The 76th And Final Hunger Games (Discontinued)

Preface

I'm standing in a glass cylinder on top of a Golden metal plate. The dimly lit light in the room reflecting on the glass is the only reason you can really tell it is there. My stylist shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot and gives me a hesitant smile. I know he is trying to look brave for me so I lift my head a little higher. Trying to convince him as much as myself that I have a chance. I shift in the unfamiliar clothing, long pants, a sleeveless shirt, and a light (but according to my stylist, very warm) jacket. Giving me no clue to what the terrain in the arena may be. I don't know why all this is registering in my mind so clearly when it all seems so serene.

The platform begins to rise up and I close my eyes and take a deep ragged breath. When I open them again the first thing I notice nearly stops my heart from beating right then and there. The circle all the tributes are standing on is the mocking jay sign of rebellion. A sign that had brought me false comfort, only to bring me to the arena now. Then I begin to survey the arena itself. The ground directly  around us is rock wasteland. In front of me it looks like a volcano is in the distance, behind me it looks like ice and glaciers, to my left desert with sparse plant life, and finally to my right some sad looking woods.

I took this in quickly, to quickly in fact, and the minute of waiting continued on at an agonizingly slow pace. I looked painfuly out at all the familiar faces that now surrounded me. So reconizable yet now so different. But I tore my attention from them and raked my eyes over the supplies. The head of the mockingjay was to my right, the derection I planned on going, and had a bow and quiver of arrows lain across it's beak. A few backpacks where on my way to it, and I decided to try for them.

How long can a minute possibly be? A very long time apparently. The other tributes where either fidgeting or standing inhumanly still. I thought one of them would crack and step off to soon, and I thought that some one may be me. But just when I thought I would break down into hysterics, a mockingly cheery voice pounded our eardrums.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the seventy-sixth and final Hunger Games begin!"

In that moment, in that very second, all rules of of sanity, trust, friendship, honesty, and all other basic elements of humanity crumbled to dust.

But know I've gotten a head of myself, I should be starting at the begging. Yes, how about we start with my name?

Alexandria Snow.

Daughter of the thankfully dead President Snow.

It is because of that fact I am forced to pay, and this is the story of how.

~~~oOo~~~ 

Soooooooo? What do you think? Promising start? Possibly? Maybe? *crickets* Well I won't know unless you comment and tell me! and what do you think about the cover I made? Please comment. Please? Even if its just a few words it would mean a lot to me! :D If you don't comment you stink... JK! JK! (Rowling) Thanks for reading!... and putting up with my sarcasm... XD