The train travels back to the Capitol. I don't know what I expected out of our contestants. Our tributes. Maybe I thought they'd be more...vibrant. Maybe they usually are. But I wouldn't know. The train stops, and the tributes are pulled out of the car by white cloaked peacekeepers. I exit last, my boots resounding against the glass road. They turn to look at me, and I see hate in their eyes. 
    I watch as a peacekeeper shoves the girl from District 7 down. I do not know her name. But then, Jessica, the girl from 1 calls it out. Kathryn.
    She's not what you expect from a girl that cuts down trees for a living. She's not one of the bruly girls I coinsidered to bring to the games. But, it's because of her difference, that I chose her. She probably think's it's a curse now. She probably wishes she had the muscles, the male, angry, axeman features, anything to get out of the games. But to me, she's beautiful, she's different. She likes being who she is. She reminds me of a storm, some unknown hurricane. But then again, they all remind me of a storm to come. A danger to me. Because they know that the one tribute who lives will find me.
    They know that that one tribute will make me regret what I have done. And then I am running, down the glass road, as fast as my feet can carry me.
                *                *                *                *                *                *                *                *                *
    I've been confined to my quarters.
    What kind of sick joke is this? I have done everything I have been asked to do, I have played every part perfectly, I have strummed every single note on their stupid guitar, and still I am punished.
    President Snow said I showed signs of weakness on the train.
    Weakness!? Has she ever tried to randomly pick on souls to murder? I think not! This is where I loose my cool! This is where every bit of hidden emotion I keep is let loose. I can't take this! I just can't!
    ...
    But the problem is, I know why she is doing it. The closer I get to the tributes, the more friendly I become with them. Lauren, from District 2 is a bright girl. She smiles. She laughs, hiding the horror of what she knows is coming. I am proud of her strength, and I am becoming attached.
    So here I am, designing a battlefield for 12 children.
    I wonder what God thinks of me. Will he call me a murderer, on Judgement Day? Will he send me to the fiery pits of Hell for this? Will he deny me?
    I don't think I will ever be prepared to find out.
                *                *                *                *                *                *                *             *                *
    "C'mon! It won't be that bad, Veris!" Cori cries. "All you have to do is wish the tributes luck, eat a few grapes, and beat it! Then tommorow, you get to destroy them!"
    I wince. Cori is tieing the laces on my backless, navy gown. He is all green today, like a tree frog. He bounces like one too. I shake my head, my curls, now fully brown, spinning in front of my eyes. I haven't had the time to get it redyed. "This is going to end badly, Cori. I know it. I just know it! Why does your mother want me to feast with them?"
    He shrugs. Of course. This is Cori I'm talking to, the witless wonder. He doesn't know anything.
    He finishes the tie, and I turn. He crushes his lips against mine, and I succumb. If it keeps me from the dinner, so be it.
    After what seems like hours, Cori begins wiping my lipstick off his pale face. I smirk, the 1st of what could possibly be a smile in many days. "You should go." he says gruffly. I nod, without another word, and flee my room.
    The Dinner started 30 minutes ago. I rush into the ballroom, and sit on my designated chair. All 12 tributes sit around a U shaped table. Jessica, from District 1, is closest to my right. Di Amore, from 12, is closest to my left. All is quite. A servant steps toward me, and fills my empty wine glass with a deep, rich red liquid. I nod to him, and he merely closes his eyes. I notice a resemblance in him and the girl from District 10, Jamie. My stomach clenches.
    "Er...h-hello..." I mumble, stumbling over my words. "My name is-"
    "We know who you are." Natalie Estel states angrily. "And we know why your here." Her cold blue eyes flash, and I automaticly sit lower in my seat.
    "Right..." I mumble.
    "You want to make us feel good. Like this is all just in our heads. Well, I'm not falling for it." Hannah Iris' voice is certain and icy still. Her red hair glitters in the fading sunlight from the window. My words die on my tongue.
    "Maybe she wants to rub it in our faces." Ivrin Lucca murmurs. "That we're all going to die."
    "Oh shut it, Ivrin." Simon commands, and the table is silent. His dark hair is messy. I can see my relection in his black/blue eyes.
    "Veris Black, why are you here?"
    I can't speak. They have all turned on me. Not one believes me. Not one believes that I wish that if I could turn the clock back, I would.
    "B-Because....President Snow....s-she told me to." I whisper.
    And Simon smiles. "Exactly."
    Then it is Mikael's turn to speak. I can tell that even if he is the youngest, he will have the last word.
    "What good will it do to kill us? Haven't we suffered enough?"
    And the rest of the meal is eaten in silence. The next day is the Games. And now, I am truely terrified.
                                                        
                                                        DAY 1 HOUR 0 MINUTE 0 SECOND 0

    The timer is set. My heart is beating inside my chest. A hovercraft is taking the tributes to the center of the arena. There they will be placed in a circle, and will have a chance to fight for weapons placed in a Cornicopia near the only stream the runs through the valley. Cori decided that a Cornicopia would be the best representation as a weapons center. He said something about a Cornicopia bearing the best fruit. I didn't really care at the time. I had just wanted to get the preparing of the games over with. But now I am dreading the begining.
    The watch the hovercraft on my screen. The tributes have been dropped. They now each stand over a metal plate. Each tribute must wait 60 seconds before stepping off the plate, or it explodes. Then, they all die. It was President Snow's idea.
    The clock starts, the little electronic numbers whizzing by. My breath stutters, and comes to a halt. A 1 appears on the minute sign.
    Mikael is hit over the head, and he is unconscious. Hannah runs toward the Cornicopia, laughing. The others follow. Kathryn and Natalie are in a battle already. Jessica has knives in her hand, and she attacks Lauren. And in a silent alliance, all forces turn to Natalie, and she falls. Hannah manages to escape with a cut on her arm, but nothing more. She has an arrow in her hand, along with a bow. And from afar, she turns, and shoots. It lands directly in Mikael's throat.
    A cannon booms in the distance. It is the sound they will all listen for in this game. For that sounds means death. It means you are that much closer to surviving. Mikael's body lays not 5 feet away from his metal plate. He didn't even reach the Cornicopia.
    The other tributes have run away by now. I watch as Natalie struggles to her feet, and limps into the forest, not even stopping as she walks over Mikael's lifeless body.
    One down. Eleven to go.

                                                        DAY 2 HOUR 20 MINUTE 4 SECOND 34
    
    The forces have turned to Jessica. Apparently the coinsider her a threat. She is hit multiple times, but she is not the only one. Not one tribute is uninjured, and each is watch their back. Alliances have been made and enforced, and yet beaten and broken. And it is only the 2nd day. Natalie has still not healed from the day before. She managed to run away from the others today, but the energy took it's toll, and she is fading. Jessica and Kathryn are by far the biggest threat. They have teamed up, and the way they work around the fire, the embers reflecting in their eyes, I am terrified of them. They speak in whispers, and I feel sorry for the other tributes.
    They got to Lauren and Avery, who had been talking amongst themselves near the river. Lauren is bleeding and broken, while Avery managed to get away. When Lauren asked for his assitance, he laughed manaically, and left for the moutain top.
    I feel as if I am dreaming. I only catch so much of the games. One person is fine, and the next day, dead.


((The rest of the days I have missed will be posted tommorow!))

The Games are kind of at a stand still. Everyone is in "alliances" with eachother. Now that Hannah Iris is dead no ones really going after eachother. Soon alliances will have to be broken for the games to go on. 


                                                   May the Odds be ever in your favor - Jessica Everdeen.
 

So the rule is when you are sick you loose five points that day and that night you dont regain any. This rule prevents people from faking sick, or going on pointless school trips they aren't oblieged to go on, or staying home for petty illnesses. Although now I have a 101 fever, and I will loose 5 points today. & if this fever keeps going I wont be at school tomorrow. Also Kathryn Devalley has a fever and we (the top two tributes) are both at home sick.

I should have never made that rule.

                                       May the Odds be ever in your favor - Jessica Everdeen.

Okay, so since Veris is still working on writing and such I thought I would do an update on this page. The Games are going great ! Everyones paranoid and barely anyone trusts anyone. Alliances are the key of the game. But trust me backstabbing is an issue in this games. But drama and backstabbing goes ! Things are getting heated up so check back soon !

                                           May the Odds be ever in your favor - Jessica Everdeen.

Okay, we have now worked out the Sponsor issue. You can have 1 Sponsor at a time, and a limit of 3 sponsors per game. Here's how it works.

The Sponsor let's me know who they want to sponsor. Ex: Jessie told me she wanted to sponsor Jessica. When the tribue feels they need sponsoring, they come to me. Since, I'm the gamemaker, I decide what they get. Let's say Jessica was poisoned. I can say she got an antidote. Then, after that tribute has recived their item and put it to good use, they can have someone else sponsor them. But remember, only 3 sponsors per game!

Okay, so this is the picture that will go up on your profile when you die. I used Jessica's, cause she's the 1st under our dropdown.

    I tap my fingers anxiously across my knee. I hate being on trains. They go far too fast for my liking. We are speeding down a track at 250mph toward District 1, and I am queasy. I glance down at my hands. The fingernails, once long and elegant have been bitten down to the nub. I sigh, and run a hand through my hair. Most of the curl is gone, only to be replaced with a lank, messy look. My natural hair color is seeping through my roots, defeating my faded sapphire locks. Dark circles linger beneath my eyes.
    Cori told me I looked stretched. I told him to thank his mother for the compliment.
    She speaks through him, I know it. He tells me things that are surely not of his own creation. He speaks of love and passion in a way that makes my throat constrict. Those are not his words. Cori is far too dimwitted to make up something that special on his own. President Snow is trying to pull me into a relationship with her son. I can only imagine why.
    It has been exactly 2 months and 24 days since President Snow has told me of my new positsion. I have been on an almost constant lock down, being badgered by news journalists, stylists, cameramen, and giddy adults, drunk on the idea of pain and blood.
    It makes me sick. Litterally sick. I have not been able to keep food down for longer than a day. The pressure, and stunned horror, makes living life difficult.
    A month ago, I recieved a computer from District 3. It is not just any computer. It designs, it creates. It can bring a sandstorm over an ocean. The Capitol has put District 2 to work, building walls around the endless forests, where no life can be found. I know this will be where my contestants-my tributes, the people I've chosen to watch die-will fall. This is my next order from President Snow. To choose the children who will suffer from their parents actions. We have decided to go with only 12 this year. "A tester year." President Snow had proclaimed happily in one of my many meeting with her.
    The train is slowing to a stop, and suddenly, the pouding of my heart in my ears is overwhelming. I close my eyes, couting to 50. It doesn't help as it normally should.
    The train driver opens the door to the 1st class section, where I sit on the couch, my face green as if I'm going to be sick. "Miss. Black?" he murmurs in a gruff voice. My eyes snap open as if I have been shot. He is a heavy-set man, with an overgrown brown mustache. For a train driver, he is well dressed. His grey suit matches the stormy color of his eyes. His nametage states, 'Mr. Praug.'
    "We have arrived..." he mumbles, and then teeters back through the door. I know this man will not be my friend. He knows of President Snow's plan. Mr. Praug lives in District 1, where he has 4 children, all within the age limit of the game rules. I stand, and walk toward the door that will lead me into District 1. The usual glamour and luxurious feel of District 1 is all but gone. The white marble roads and gold streetlamps have been reduced to rubble. The jewled windows of the chapels and the Mayor's home have been destroyed. Though, as I stare through the window, I have to admit, they are doing well without it. They are rebuilding. I beg that all the other District's are the same.
    I open the door, and step out into the light. The silvery glow of the Capitol's train creates sparkles that fly across the city. I walk down the steps, tripping over my heels. People begin to stop, and look, and I feel my face redden.
    I walk toward City Hall, where Mayor Helunski stands. He is young for a mayor, the devious look of childhood still remains in his dark eyes. His black hair is slick with gell. He stands in a purple suit behind what one must have been a podium. A microphone is held in his hands.
    I wade through the crowd, and soon enough, all fo District 1 has parted like the red sea to let me pass. Mayor Helunski puts to micorphone to his lips. "Ladies and Gentlemen, let us welcome Veritas Black to our lovely District 1!"
    "It's Veris." I mumble as approach him. I had winced at the uncommen use of my 1st name. Veris, or Miss Black. Never 'Veritas'. Mayor Helunski shrugs, and hands me the microphone. I watch as he returns into City Hall. He does not wish to stay and watch his people's reactions. I know this. The Mayor's know of the Capitol's plan. The people, the poor people, have no clue.
    "Err, hi." I murmur into the microphone. There is no reaction. The people glare at me. They know I am from the Capitol. Everyone from the Capitol is hated these days. We bombed their Districts. Well, what were we supposed to do? Sing children's songs while they bombed the Capitol? The anger drives me forward.
    "My name is Miss Black, and I work directly for President Snow. I have some bad news for the Districts. You see, your rebellion, well that was very wrong of you to attempt. We have already shown you that the Capitol is not afraid to kill to get what it wants. And what we want now, is for you to pay for the wrongs you have commited. District 13 paid for everything they have ever done. Their elders paid, their babies paid. But now, for the rest of the surviving Districts, we in the Capitol wish for the children to pay for the wrongs their parents have committed." I inhale, and begin to relay the rules and guidelines President Snow has set down for the games.
    "12 children, one from each district, will be randomly chosen to preform in an event titled 'The Hunger Games'. Winning, means fame and fortune. Loosing, means a certain death. Only one child can survive. It's a fight to the death. It will show you and your fellow Districts that when faced with the choice of murdering and being murdered...well, I suppose you can work that out yourself."
    That's when the shouting started. The words of hate and anger soaring through the air. I watched, my face unmoving as a man pulled a gun from his pocket. The man next to him, in all white, tackled him. President Snow enforced men like that. The white cloaked men. She called the Peacekeepers. If they kept me from being shot, then she could call them whatever she wanted. I stepped down from the podium and sat on the steps. The Peacekeepers were doing their job well. Before long, a line of white stood in front of me. I stood once more, and looked out into the crowd.
    A glint of gold caught my eye. A girl with blonde locks, dressed in a school uniform stared at me, her green eyes dark and angry. "You there!" I shouted over the remaining heated grumbles from the crowd. The girl looks up, her eyes wide.
    "You're my District 1 tribute."
    The crowd is roaring once more, droning, the once again, insane pouding resounding from my chest. A Peacekeeper is dragging her toward me. They are walking up the steps. She is standing directly in front of me, her head an inch taller up from mine.
"Your name?" I ask in a bored tone, trying to pull it off as the people in the Capitol do.
"Jessica." she replies, in the same tone as mine. "Jessica Everdeen."
    Suddently, a gunshot cracks through the air. One of the Peacekeepers is down, and the Inhabitants of District 1 are attacking my bodyguards. I grab Jessica's arm, and we race out of the District, to the train that is still glimmering in the fading sunlight. I open the door, and thrust her inside. The door slams behind me as I climb in as well.
    After a moment that we both gasped for air, Jessica speaks. "Who do you think you are?" she challenges. I turn to face her. Her face is red, though I am not sure if it is from the run, or from her anger. "You Capitol people, you just all think you're so high and mighty-"
    "I'm not just anyone from the Capitol." I reply coldly. "I'm the Gamemaker. I design the Hunger Games. I decide whether you die or not, so I suggest you shut you're bratty mouth." I push past her, and collapse on the couch.
    She rolls her eyes. "How old are you?"
    "15." I reply softly.
    "I'm 17!"
    "I don't care. This is my job." I snap, though my voice is softer.
    Jessica begins to pace in front of me. "I can't believe it! The Capitol has some teenager controlling some lunatic death games! Do you realize that you're murdering, doing this. You might not be doing it directly, but you will always be counted as a murderer!"
    I wince, and Jessica notices. I try to cover it up. "Look, I didn't ask for this job!"
    "'Course you didn't." Jessica mutters, not believing a word I am saying. "And even if that is true, you took it anyways." and she retreats down the hall, to the dining car.

                *                *                *                *                *                *                *                *   
           
    Hayden Ewan is a quiet tribute. I attempt to converse with him, but he is the total opposite from Jessica. He intends to remain quiet, and deal with his pain internally. I like his type better. A few of the tributes have adapted to the news like that, but most of them have shouted at me. Eventually, I let them. I don't fight back. They have every right to be angry with me. I ruined their lives, after all.
    I still sit on the couch, flipping through the tv. Chandler Weathers from District 10 is chatting with Kathryn DeValley from 7. Natalie Estel from 3 is staring out the window. She has never been father away from home than District 3, and she likes the scenery. The other tributes have left. They have traveled through the dining car, to the Compartment Car, where each tribute has a room. I hug my knees to my chest. They are probably lonely. Lonely and afraid. And I am afraid with them Afraid of what I have done, and what I will do.