Blake's Blog "Everything you've ever wanted is on the other side of fear" ~ George Addair 

People say winners are made out of sinew and honor, but I believe in the winner who has faults and a brain. I believe in Anne Foyer. So far, I can tell she works visually and that she never does anything without having a plan. Throughout the entire games, I have been saving money to send Anne a map; showing her the location of her and all the other remaining tributes. Just this morning, I woke up and saw Anne on the TV following a pack of Careers. I think she is trying to get a pattern of their habits so she can use them to her advantage.

I know that Anne is suffering from breathing problems left over from the tsunami, so I want to give her the best shot she has. I quickly stuff the first envelope I find with money and careful instructions saying, I have given you money so that you may use it to send a silver parachute to Anne Foyer. You are to place a map in it that shows the location of all remaining tributes. She is to receive the parachute right after they display the names of the dead. Thank you, and may the odds be ever in your favor. After sealing the eggshell envelope with tender care, I sprint to the post office and send it away to the Capitol. Hopefully Anne will go to sleep tonight with a plan of revenge and victory.

As I walk home from the post office, I have a daydream of all the ways I could try to be more like Anne, she is who I have always wanted to be. At dinner, I pretend to be looking across the table to my father. I am actually intent on the TV behind him. There is a brief flash of Anne, nestled high in a safe looking tree. I see her face brighten and know she sees her gift floating down from the heavens. As Anne unravels the map, she has a look of confusion that quickly turns into gratitude. Right then, she turns to look directly at the camera, as if giving a silent thank you to me. Your welcome Anne, I just hope it’s enough to keep you alive.

Fear controls the body and mind, it takes you places your never want to go, until you end up scaring yourself to death. I hope that nobody else dies from natural causes, nobody gets pleasure from watching teenagers play ‘Survivor Man’. I have been ordered by the Head Gamemaker to orchestrate a mutant that will make an easy meal of the remaining weaklings. We are on a baby hunt, and won’t stop until we weed them out with mutts. But what is going to be able to please and shock the Capitol while also murder capable killers. Spiders, snakes, scorpions, big cats. All of them are armed with lethal weapons, if only one of them would shock they audience. It has to be something that looks vulnerable on the outside, with hidden killing weapons. A frog.

I quickly bring up a holograph of the typical poison dart frog, and add the Capitol’s killer magic to it. I add a vibrant red and blue pattern to act like a magnet, tributes will be drawn to its beauty. I am not creating your average frog, this is a poison dart frog with enough poison to kill 50 grown men. The Capitol will admire its glowing colors, making the frogs appear like a pet that they could cuddle up to. Only these pets are going to kill you at any chance they get. I install and program the frog to have super senses in order to track down and kill their prey, the tributes. I just finished when the Head Gamemaker calls for the mutts to be released all throughout the arena.

The first tribute drawn into our trap is the poor little girl from District Three, she is attracted like a lamb to the slaughter. From my view I can almost see her eyes shine with wonder and curiosity as she stares ahead at my glorious creation. The frog transforms into a full grown killer just as the young girl stretches out her hand to the frog in a sign of friendship or even trust. You would think she wouldn’t trust anything considering she is trapped in the Hunger Games. The young girl is ensconced in a blanket of frogs before she could comprehend what is happening to her. I send a signal to the frogs to stay clear of her face to the cameras can zoom in and show her dying moments. I always have to look away when a young tribute is being slaughtered at my fingertips, they look so innocent and hopeless when they die. I guess that’s the point though, we have to scare the Districts until they loss hope.

They say that swimming makes you feel weightless, but I think that it feels like a universe sitting on top of your shoulders. I was sitting next to Annabeth, we were just wrapping up our dinner and having a conversation about our districts. She talked about such a nice brother that she had, how they would spend countless days together. Then, she was abruptly cut short by a thundering crashing sound off in the distance. Since she grew up near the sea Annabeth knew something was wrong began shouting at me to run. I didn’t know what was happening, but I fully trusted her to keep me safe.

I wasn’t sure what we were running from, my only thought was that if I stopped I’d be standing in my grave. We continued to run, until she came upon what we had been running to, a huge tree thundering high above the ground. Annabeth instructed me to climb and explained on the way up that a tsunami was occurring over in the west, by the beach. She had terror in her eyes, I could tell because what should have been blue turned into a deep grey that wouldn’t lighten up, it was like she knew what was going to happen. As we approached the halfway mark of the tree the wave broke through the trees beneath our feet, trampling everything in its way. The last time I saw Annabeth she was pushing my higher into the canopy, tears forming in her eyes which were now almost black.

It’s not real, I had to keep telling myself that she would swim right up to the surface and continue to climb with me, but she didn’t. It’s not real. It’s not real. As I climbed for my life I was slipping on my tears, and hanging on a slim branch when I remembered that it’s all just a game. I broke down into hysterics over the loss of my newfound best friend, and removed my one arm from the branch. I continued to make it seem like I was going to give up. On the inside I knew what was going to happen. Just before I released my final finger from the branch the swelling water quickly receded. I was right, the Gamemakers primary goal is to make the Hunger Games a success, not bring how children to their families. If I did fall into the churning water then the audience would have lost their small innocent Willow tree in a forest of prickly pines and looming oaks.

Unconditional love is rare, whenever you find it you should hold it close to you can’t forget it. I found unconditional love in my brother, Rye, and my best friend, Roger. They both love me for who I am on the inside. If I were to loos everything I had they would still see me for who I was. I think of them during my daily routine in the arena. As my ally, I think her name’s Annabeth, and I forage for berries I think of picnics with Roger in the fields. While climbing trees for coconuts I think of Rye and our childish competition to see who can climb the highest on the tree in our yard.

One dull and overcast morning I wake up feeling like I should just give up, but then I notice something shimmering in the distance. I pick it up and realize it is a silver parachute, I remember that sponsors send useful things to help tributes. As I open it up I quickly realize what is inside the package. It is similar to cameras that we use back home, only this one has one setting, video. The note attached is telling me that I am allowed to record a message to my loved ones back home. I quickly send my words of love to Rye and Roger. As I close up the package I am flooded with grief, my last words to my loved ones are floating away into the computer generated sky.

Making friends is a skill I have not yet mastered, let alone forming an alliance. I doubt I will be able meet anybody trustworthy, it’s in human nature to murder out of greed or jealousy. I continue to sit in my tree, high above the sandy floor, thinking of a winning strategy. From the Hunger Games that I have seen before, victors can have a wide range of strategies, such as pretending to be weak, hiding the entire time, and fleeing from threats. All of these could probably work for me and my physical ability. I don’t have much muscle mass, so it would be in my best interest to stay a good distance away from any Careers. Since I am so high up in the tree strong gusts of wind start to make the branches tremble and shake. I quickly climb down, being careful not to miss a single branch. One wrong step and I can become a pancake shaped blob on the forest floor.

After descending the tree with care I begin to look for the perfect shelter, something near water and easy to run away from. The sun finally begins to slip below the ocean, transforming the sky into a sparkling oasis of deep purples and vibrant greys. I stumble upon a hollow tree trunk, it has a few abandoned spider webs in it, but I clear them out and add some soft ferns to the bottom to make acceptable accommodations. Once I deem the trunk acceptable it is almost time for the visions of the dead tributes. I am sitting and counting my supplies when the lost tributes are shown in the sky, I can almost hear their final pleas to their killers, begging them for mercy. Stan Jennings is shown across the moonlit sky, it seems like he is trying to warn everybody left in the arena that we must keep our eye open. I must be losing my mind, projected images don’t speak to you. Seeing a tribute from my district among the list of the dead is depressing, it makes it seem more realistic, that I could vanish at any given moment.

Sleep doesn’t come easily to me tonight, so I spend half of the night contemplating what would become of me once I die in the Hunger Games. Where do lost souls go once they have fulfilled their duties on Earth? I remember my mother telling me tails of happy places far away during my grandfather’s funeral. I drift off to sleep with visions of a happier place in my head. I was suddenly awaken when I hear somebody outside of my shelter. Then I am taken back to civilization when I hear a knock on the side of the trunk, I peak outside to see the brunette from District Four. I invite her to spend the cool night inside the tree trunk with me, I try to remember what she said her name was, but I just can’t. I hope that she will agree to be my ally when I ask her tomorrow morning, she seems to be brave. It will be so nice to have a friend to go through this ordeal with me.

I step into the tube, and feel an odd cozy sensation. I am about to enter the Hunger Games, and I feel warm and happy. Soon the ground beneath my feet shakes and I am being lifted into the air, and surrounded my certain death. As I look around my surroundings I realize where the warm and happy feelings are coming from, the sand beaches to my left, and looming volcanoes to my right. They aren’t my only threat through, a large group of fierce opponents are around me.

Stop, I have to tell myself. I’m not doing myself any good by dwelling on the strength and demeanor of my rivals. I have to focus on the gong, when I hear it I have to sprint into any cover I have, I will die first if I don’t get a long distance between me and the cornucopia. It seems like my best shot is to grab a light blue backpack just 10 feet from my feet, then to run into the trees behind me. BANG!

In a flash I see everybody running to the center, and I barely notice my feet taking me right to the backpack and straight to a pack of throwing knives. Great, now somebody is going to stab me from behind. I muster all of my energy and spring into the wooded area beyond my pedestal. By the time I reach the woods I am barley breathing, but thankful nobody noticed me. I scale a tree just to be safe, when I get to near the top I see many fighting figures near the cornucopia. I fiddle with my ring, and hope that I will make it to see a glorious sunrise over this strange new land.

My mother comes into the room, weeping so much that she can barely breathe. I attempt to calm her down, but I too begin the endless sobbing. We seem to be sobbing for endless days and nights, but all of a sudden our five minutes are up, and I’m screaming my good-byes to her. As I sit in the room by myself, awaiting my next visitor, I notice something small and delicate in my hands.

I stare at my token, my grandmother’s wedding ring, wonder and awe wash over me as I think about the story behind it. The wires wrap around my finger like vines creeping around a tree trunk. The black wires twist around each other and ensconce the diamond in the center of the ring. My mother is so generous to allow me to bring this ring into the Hunger Games. The story behind her ring is magical and inspiring.

I hope that having her ring with me is going to help me survive in the Hunger Games. The love and affection of my grandparent’s relationship just might be enough to help me cope with the stress and anxiety of weeks to come. When I run my fingers over all the unique patterns of wire I feel peaceful. It’s like closing your eyes and falling asleep, forgetting all your problems and fears.

One foot in front of the other, and then you’re fleeing from your enemies. All it would take to kill me is one more step. I can never bring myself to enter the reaping because of the deadly outcomes. One minute a girl is standing nervously next to you, the next moment she is standing on her pedestal, awaiting certain death. Every time you are entered into the reaping bowl you are entered for the “chance of a lifetime”. There is a chance that today I will be picked to enter the Hunger Games, which will be the death of me. The first step to your end is being in the reaping pool. I go through with it anyway, since you are forced to be entered in the reaping bowl.

As I am waiting for innocent children’s names to be called I notice how pristine the reaping bowl looks, sunlight glints off of the bowl and makes it twinkle. It reminds me of how my mother’s expensive necklace looks when you hold it up to the light just the right way. I quickly look over at my mother and the rest of my family, I want them to think I’m not too nervous or scared about the reaping. My family is my backbone, they love my unconditionally. When I look at them I see my father staying strong, my mother on the verge on hysteria, and my brother making funny faces at me. To be separated from my family is like going years without rain.

I hear a muffled noise come over the speaker, I guess Harper Haze called one of the other 14 year-old girls because one of them was breaking down and crying in tears. She looked as if she was hunched over in pain, her tears were flowing freely and began to fall onto her dress.  I finally realized it was my best friend, Regina Finn, who was crying. The girl next to me whispers for me to move forward, now I understand. I have been reaped. I feels like a tornado barreled through the district and carried everything away, except me. I try to walk up onto the stage as calmly as possible, but I break down when I see mom, dad, and Rye in the audience. The only thing I can feel is fear, creeping up on me like a lion and pouncing the second I turn my back.