“...And our girl tribute is...” There was a suspenseful pause as they were announcing the girl tribute for District 8, “Ashleen!” The lump onto my throat rose even higher at the sound of my name. I stepped up slowly to the front. I was only 13, and had 16 little pieces of paper with my name on them in the little glass dome. My parents had waited until we were home to cry. My twin brother was chosen as the boy for our district. I had to make my choice of what to bring with me. My brother had already chosen to bring my mother’s thimble tied on a piece of twine. It was the day we were set to depart to the Capitol. As I was leaving, my youngest brother ran over to me and pushed a small twig into my hand. “You don’t have anything yet. Take this.” I kept the twig with me in my pocket through the entire games. While I was at the end of the games, I was pushed into the middle of the arena along with the district 4 boy. I had no supplies and no weapons with me. He only had a knife, and he tried to stab at me, but as soon as he got close enough, I remembered the twig in my pocket. I stuck it right in his eye. He screamed and fell backwards, the knife falling out of his hand. I picked it up, and quickly killed him. Everyone else had died, including my brother. It was awful. This was my story of how I won the Hunger Games.