Staying at home with the brutal games continuing on is a nightmare. These are the games that took my son, Eugene. I want them to be over as soon as possible. Despite these facts, I have still chosen a favorite person I would like to win, Gerome Washingbeard. He is very charismatic and is doing great in the games, but hasn’t gone completely insane. One would think my favorite would be Blake Cooper, the other tribute from district 8, but it isn’t. He is doing great I’ll give him that, but he seems to like it too much, as though he was a fighting dog bred for this purpose. I also don’t want Blake to win because if he does, he’ll be returning back here as a victor. I can’t trust someone with that kind of thirst for blood.

To ensure that Gerome beats his fellow 5 tributes, I’m sending him a silver parachute. Deciding what I could send that would impact his games was actually tough. I know I’m not allowed to send weapons and he is doing fine on food. I figured he would have to move around so the other tributes can’t kill him like shooting a fish in a barrel. With his current setup, his food is in a pile while he sleeps on the ground. A backpack would be perfect! He could stash everything inside and go out to hunt the others.

After paying a fee to send the backpack in, all I could do is wait. I need him to make good use of it so the other beast of a tribute can’t return to our district. Watching the parachute fall gracefully in was a strange feeling. It was great to know I am impacting what will happen from now on, but terrible at the same time. I was taking part in these horrible games that killed by son. My wife and I should be despising these games and everyone in them, not aiding the process of killing kids. But as I said, we have no choice. I can only hope Gerome takes advantage of the backpack to protect himself, and the people of district 8.

The tsunami we released into the arena did not go as planned. The giant wave only killed four tributes. Though it did liven up the arena, it did not drive the tributes much closer together. The tributes NEED to get closer. An exciting Hunger Games consists of brutal killings tribute to tribute, not staying separated in their own secluded areas. To aid in this process, the other game makers and I decided on releasing poison dart frogs into the arena. We decided on these because, as the name implies, they are poisonous. Unlike tracker jackers which we have released in past games, these are easier to avoid and get away from. The tributes running for their lives will definitely drive them together.

Seeing the frogs on TV was mind boggling. Some of the tributes walked directly towards them and got bitten. Others ran away and from the looks of things, will be meeting up soon. I would say I feel bad about doing this, but I honestly don’t. This is our 80th Hunger Games so the killing of people from the districts isn’t new. I would like it not have to be this way, but my life depends on it. With the remaining tributes cautiously approaching the same area, we are sure to see some action.

Being one of the gamemakers for the 80th annual Hunger Games is a great responsibility. I have to make sure the games stay… interesting. The currently surviving tributes are spread apart and we have to make sure they found eachother. What better way than to using something common for a tropical area. A tsunami. It would drive all the tributes away from where they are to coming close together. If some end up not making it through, it would still be an interesting death.

The bloodbath would probably be led by Blake Cooper, but if everyone joined together they could over come him and have an underdog victory. No matter what happens when the tsunami starts, it will be the reason and I am not killed for a bad Hunger Games.

Running away from the bloodbath was literally running away from a battlefield. I got out of there as quick as I could and if I was timed, I probably set a new best mile time.In the backpack I took was a small dagger which I strapped to my side and 2 granola bars. No water. Water. I need water. I had been so worried about running that I lost sight of the true priorities. Finding a needle in a haystack would have been easier than finding fresh water in this arena. It was insanely waterlogged with salt water. Right around dusk I finally found water. I considered setting up a base but I dubbed the area unfit to stay for a long period. It was completely flat and the pond of water was about 6 feet below the ground with a stream flowing into it. If I stayed here, I’d end up buried at the same depth. I had to spend the night thought. After taking my drink, I go and sit behind a nearby bush to take shelter for the night. I couldn’t sleep. I knew I couldn’t. I had to see who died and protect myself from the same fate.

After what seems like an eternity of sitting I hear a noise. I move to find its source slower than a snail. It was a boy, slightly older than me, who has found the pond. He looks unarmed. My mind ran at a thousand miles a minute. Should I take him out? I could. It would be so easy. I stand up behind him and draw my dagger. He noticed me. I’m blown. If he does have something this could be the end. Once we are face to face I tell him to put his hand up and he complies. “I’m friendly!” he yells at me. We stand facing each other for about a minute, thinking. At that point I was still considering taking him out. One less person to worry about later, plus I work best alone. I can’t decide what to do. I wasn’t planning on this happening so soon. I fiddle with the cloth. It made me think of my home and how I had to do anything to get back. I thought that would make me human, not want to kill him. It does it opposite. I was ready to do even the worst to get back. But not yet. “Whats your name?” I ask.

“Lee Sin” he said awkwardly.

“Eugene” I replied. At that moment I made my choice. I need to work with someone. I wouldn’t last 3 days alone. Once I sheathed my dagger you could see us both relax with the tension fading. “We could work together.” I proposed to which he agreed. We sat down by the pond and started talking strategy.

I kept my hand on my sheathed dagger at all times.

He tells me he’s from district 3 and has a plan to use the mines as a trap. That’s complete… genius. Compared to that I feel useless. I jokingly talk about how I can make us clothes but he reassures me that can actually be useful. I wished to have talked more but we were interrupted by the screen in the sky. 4 people had died today in the bloodbath. Stan Jennings from district 3, the same as Lee. You can see he is upset. Luan Smith from 6, Yolanda Bubblebench from 7, and Duncan Reilly from 9, who I had talked to some in training. He told me he didn’t know Stan very well but he will still upset nevertheless. I asked, “Did you know Duncan Reilly?” “Of course. Everyone did. He was such a jokester at training,” he said as we begin to laugh.

“Turns out my partner from 8 turned out to be a pretty bad dude, huh? He probably caused all of this.”

“Yeah, and he gave me a death stare at the beginning. Speaking of death, we should probably find some shelter.”

“Well, we’ll spend the night here, but we won’t stay here for long, it’s not safe. I’ll take first watch.”

He gladly accepted and climbed a nearby tree. The thoughts continued to enter my head. I could still do it. He’s sleeping now. Even easier. I fought to stop thinking like that. Whether I like it or not, we’re in this together now.

Hearing the starting gong go off is exhilarating, yet saddening. It’s insane to think that you will be fighting for you life, but sad to know that only one will win that fight.

In the time leading up to the gong while I was standing on the metal plate, I was planning out everything that I thought would happen. Checking my surroundings I decided it was a tropical setting, very sandy and water logged, but most of it was salt water.  I knew there would be a massacre like a herd of lions hunting gazelles. I didn’t want to be the gazelle, but I didn’t want to be the lion either. When the countdown was around 10 seconds left I began to freak out. What if my plans didn’t work? What if I did end up like the gazelle? I was so deep in panic that went the gong went off, I didn’t notice for about a second. I was too late. Everyone jumped off and started swimming for the cornucopia. Luckily I practiced my swimming during training.

I dived in and started to swim as fast as I could. Once I reached land I managed to grab a backpack. I wasn’t going to risk heading for the cornucopia. I started to sprint away at speeds that felt faster than light. I tried to resist looking back but I had to. I saw the other tribute from my district turn into a feral beast. He made it to the cornucopia and was slashing at the weak gazelles left and right. Before the start of the games, I was hoping we could pair up as an alliance, but I’m not sure I could trust him.

Working alone will be best. That’s how I’ve always survived outside of the games. I didn’t even check my bag as I continued to sprinted away from the bloodbath.

Every tribute entering the games gets to bring a tribute token; which is something to remind them of home. When I first started to think about what I would take, I had no idea. I have never been one for physical memories or keepsakes, but I knew for my family’s sake I would have to take something. I didn’t want to wear to a necklace or a pin because those seemed too over-used. I was hoping I could take one of my dads lucky watches but I didn’t think it would be allowed. This was truly a harder decision than I anticipated. I expected to just pick something to wear and that would be the end of that, but it couldn’t be that easy. Since I’m going to be stuck in an arena fighting for my life with other kids, I need something to remind me of home. I need something to hold on to so I don’t lose myself inside that arena. When I decided what I was going to take as my tribute token it seemed stupid. I ripped off a bit from my lucky shirt and tied it to my wrist. I would have taken the whole shirt but you have to wear a special uniform the gamemakers design. This bit of cloth would be the only thing keeping me myself in the arena, but I can also have a double use for it. If isn’t confiscated from me I can use it as a good tool in a pinch. When I absolutely need a fire but don’t have any tinder to start it with, I can burn the cloth. Though it would be destroying the one thing I had from home, it could also be the reason I make it home.

I have been chosen to be in the Hunger Games. I have dreaded the idea of being picked ever since I turned twelve.

Arriving at the reaping in always terrifying. I see the faces of all the kids I know waiting to know if their name will be called. All there is to do after checking in and being crammed into the 14 year old section is wait. During that time, every moment felt like an eternity. When our district escort finally comes to chose 2 tributes for our district, time feels even slower. Harper reaches into the glass ball to pick a name. She grabs one and read it. Time is completely frozen. “Eugene Polison,” she said.

Everyone has heard the term “heart sank to my stomach” but my heart plummeted into the ground. I walk up on to the stage speechless. There is nothing I can do. My mom and dad were not so speechless. My mom screamed and cry while my dad held her back. No one volunteered to take my place. She read the other name and I didn’t even hear it. I was still lacking of words to say. I glanced over briefly and I might have seen the other tribute a couple of times in the factory. I could practically feel the collected sigh of relief from the crowd since none of them were chosen. I was.