This was no tribute’s campfire gone out of control, no accidental occurrence. The flames that bear down on me have an unnatural height, a uniformity that marks them as human- made, machine-made, Gamemaker-made.

The Hunger Games

“In the woods waits the only person with whom I can be myself, Gale”.

“There’s twenty-four of us, Gale, only one comes out.”

Suddenly I am furious, that with my life on the line, they don’t even have the decency to pay attention to me. That I’m being upstaged by a dead pig. My heart starts to pound, I can feel my face burning. Without thinking, I pull an arrow from my quiver and send it straight at the Gamemakers’ table. I hear shouts of alarm as people stumble back. The arrow skewers the apple in the pig’s mouth and pins it to the wall behind it. Everyone stares at me in disbelief. “Thank you for your consideration,” i say. Then I give a slight bow and walk straight toward the exit without being dismissed.