All-Stars: Non-Careers

Chapter 7

Mouse Parentii

I didn't know how I got mixed up in this. One thing was for sure. I sorely regretted ever picking a single pocket. If I'd just been a normal kid, I wouldn't have gotten picked for the Quarter Quell. I wouldn't have had to go through the Hunger Games three times.

I'd be a good boy if they let me go home. I learned my lesson. I wouldn't pick pockets. I wouldn't even cheat in school. I'd be a good citizen and I wouldn't give them any trouble. Hadn't I been punished enough?

Chase Enders

I got a second chance. My arm was all better, too. Most people in the first Resurrection Games seemed sad, but I was happy about it. I'd probably die again, but first I got to live for a while. Dying wasn't so bad. I could see the Games building and hang out with Nubu some more. He was really cool.

My mom didn't get a second chance, though. She was probably already dead. But that meant she didn't have to see me die again. I hoped she got to see a lighthouse before she died.

Alinta Fintan

Nubu was still with me. Was I not quite dead yet? I wasn't in the Arena anymore.

"Are we dead?" I asked. He looked sad.

"You're going back in," he said. He looked like he was going to cry.

"But what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm your mentor," he said.

"What?!" I tore off the blankets and sat up. "You won?"

"I'm sorry. I should have saved you," he said.

"No, that's great! You killed Victory and you won! That's so cool!" I said. Nubu was the coolest. He stayed with me and then he won. He was the best.

Beth O'Darielle

The Capitol had outdone themselves. They made up something called a Resurrection Games. What it meant was that I got to come back and do it all over again. They said there were no Careers this time. That meant it was my job to do all the killing for all of them. They let in everyone, which meant there were dozens upon dozens of victims for me. I could do that for them. I'd never loved Panem more.

Elara Angelo

It would never be enough for them. Over and over they'd send me back, and I had the same minuscule chance every time. It was worth dying to get to live again, but it would be better if I didn't have to go back into the Games.

It was a strange sort of survival, going back and forth between death and life. But then, Twelve was always good at survival.

Peach Unk

Of course. Of course they'd drag me into the Arena, kill me, then drag me back in. I just wanted to live my life. They wanted to not only control my life, but to give me another just so they could control that too. I had half a mind to jump out a window. That would show them.

Why couldn't they just butt out? I wasn't going to burn down the District or start a rebellion. The worst I ever tried to do was get a back alley tattoo. Ooh, they better watch out. They really dodged a bullet there.

I'll just do the new Tributes and then the fun can start!