Here's a Hunger Games Fanfic I wrote. :) you'll need to have read at least the first Hunger Games to get it probably. :)
It's from the view of FoxFace, the female District 5 tribute. I didn't finish it. :D
FoxFace
I will not kill people. That is not who I am. I'm no good at it anyway, I am a small and weak girl. However, I am good at sneaking, stealing, and hiding. I am cunning. Not strong, stealthy. I do not think I will win these games. But I will try. All I want is to return home to my older brother, Rob, whom has short, orange hair like mine. He has my father's eyes though- green like a lake. Mine are ice-blue, rimmed in a line of deep, but not rich in color, blue. I am not impressive. I'm not strong, particularly beautiful, or charming. My poor stylist. I was dressed as, well I'm not sure what it was. The crowd did not notice me. They only noticed the district twelve tributes. I watched the girl. I see in her a semblance of me, but with more stubbornness and secretly, more hurt. She is quiet. Quiet is a sign of hurt. She hides something, I can tell.
As I train in the tribute center, I continue to watch the girl. I've developed a bit of an obsession with her, I suppose. She does not think that she is beautiful. She does not know that she is strong. I watch her. She hides her skill; I believe that it is something with a bow and arrow. She will glance at the other tributes trying the bows and smile as if she knows something they don't. Which of course, she does.
I hurl into the porcelain potty with all my might. I repeat this process three times. How weak of me, I think, to be puking out of nerves before the games. Well, nerves and all the Capitol food. What if I die tomorrow? Who knows, maybe I will. The male tribute from my district walks in. He sees me there, leaning over the toilet. He makes a bit of a tsk tsk noise and helps me up. I know him. He's seventeen, barely six months older than me. I have the misfortune of still holding the title, "sixteen" though. He has chocolate brown hair that's long, but not too long (modeled after Percy Jackson/dude in 17 again/dude in warm bodies) and nice, sea colored blue eyes that always twinkle mischievously, but give off a comforting warmth. I'm embarrassed to be found in a moment of weakness, especially when he seems fine, and is helping me even! "Aren't you nervous?" I ask him after weakly thanking him for helping me. He laughs lightly, "Yes! In fact, I envy the fact that you were able to empty your stomach! Mine just spins in circles." Now it's my turn to laugh. "What strategies did Johanna give you?" Johanna is our mentor. I've always secretly admired her. She used trickery and female wiles, to some extent, to win the games. Pretending she was weak, then striking out with unbelievable force!? Genius! I wish I was like her- strong- strong enough to even carry an axe. "Not much." I reply. He nods in agreement, "Not too much help, is she?" "No..." He smiles again. Why is he smiling so much? Is he not afraid? "So, who are you betting on?" He inquires. "I don't have any money to bet." I reply. "Oh, I didn't mean literally. Just who do you think will win?" "Oh..." I chew my lip. The girl. The girl from District 12. I think she will win. But what will he think if I say that? District 12 never wins.... "The girl from District 12." If I'm going to die, I don't want to die a liar. "Ahh.. Wise choice. Personally, I'm betting on the boy from eleven." I smile. He made a much better choice than me. "But the girl," he continues, "she is very smart. And I think she's hiding her skill." Suddenly I'm jubilant. He observes! Like me! He has noticed the same thing! It's a treat to have my hypothesis validated. "I thought the same thing!"
My heart screams to be relieved of its utter agony. My hands shake and my fingers are numb. "12, 11, 10, 9..." The games. I'm in the games.
