The Hunger Games (Writing Contest) [CLOSED]

Warner Cole-Reaping

They told me I had to do background information on myself, so here it is: Hello, my name is Warner Cole, a charming 18-year-old from District One. I have grown up training side-by-side with my peers. I eat, sleep, breath Hunger Games. Blah blah blah. I'm a typical, stereotype, district one tribute. My parents are rich, they own the largest department store in Panem. They have paid for everything: training, training and more training. More blah blah blah. I like to use my strength as my weapon, but my boyish good looks always works on the ladies, too. My electric blue hair and shining green eyes fit in well with my district. I'm tall but not too tall. My parents know a lot of people in the Capitol very well, so I'll no doubt have a lot of sponsors. I'm also good at using any weapon. I come off cocky and arrogant so people don't like me. I don't make friends easily and I wouldn't trust them if I did. I've only known how to hurt and to train and to hurt and to train... If I have to pick something to bring with me, well I'm not sure, maybe my lucky necklace. I'm being written by sherlockion so check her out, I guess.

Is the cameras off? Yes? Okay, this next part is off the record. Let me start over, just for you guys.

Hello, my name is Warner Cole. I'm 18-years-old. I'm from district one. A lot of people only know the side of me I show the world. The side I showed everyone above. I'm not sure why I don't act like my true self, maybe I'm scared people won't like me, but they don't like me anyways, so what does it matter? I'm not sure and I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this now. Here's another confession: I'm terrified. I've always been terrified of the Hunger Games. I don't like to fight and I don't like to kill. But do you know what I'm more scared of? No, of course not. I'm mostly scared of myself, because I'd rather kill another kid to uphold my legacy then to die my true self. District one does something to you, something to your mind. They make you believe that killing is winning but all my instincts are telling me to run, but there's no where to run to. So, I'm sitting here, in this chair, talking to you, telling you everything about me because someone ought to know.

I think that sometimes I convince myself that I am the person depicted above.

Back to the About Me. I would choose a gun as my weapon, if that was a choice. My strengths? I'm a good talker, I'm smart and I'm a leader. People bypass these traits in a career tribute, but here I am. What's the next question? My weaknesses? I'm insecure, I'm not sure how to make friends and I'm not sure if I can kill someone.

{Appearance}I choose to have blue hair, I like it and the style and the edge it gives me. My eyes are naturally this green. Like I said, I'm tall.

The necklace, the one I talk about above, is what I would bring, no doubt about it. My love gave it to me, but that's a story for another time.

Well, I guess that's it.

Played by: sherlockion

Reaping:

Hello again. Today is the day. I can feel the excitement, like static electricity, in the air. District One is alive. I try to refuse the excitement, but how can you when everyone else around you isn't?

I run to my bedroom and lock the door tight. I close my blinds. I shut off the radio. I destroy anything that reminds me of who I truly am. Why was I born a 1? I sit in the corner, staring at the mess I've created. I clear my mind. I take a deep breath and I try to calm down. But now my adrenaline is kicking through me. It's like destroying things gets me high. I feel so powerful. I feel like who I'm supposed to be.

I let go. I embrace my fate. I feel the excitement in my soul. It's like I can live forever. I stand up and change into a very nice suit and leave my destroyed room behind me.

My parents have already left for the town square. It is a tradition in my family for the parents to go ahead with the children too young to be picked and too old to volunteer, while the ones able to compete in the Hunget Games walk together. However, I'm the youngest of 3 boys. All of whom have competed in the Hunger Games. My older brother, Daniel, won about 12 years ago. My second oldest brother, Marvin, was the last person to be killed his year. He was almost Victor.

The streets are crowded and I have no patience. I pull out a gun and fire it above my head. Everybody scatters and I'm left with a perfect straight path to town square.

This is my last year to be picked or to volunteer for the Hunger Games. In the years past I would be praying to not be picked. But I feel so powerful right now. I know there's already a male tribute picked, from training to volunteer, but I want this more than anything. So when Jayden, the announcer, says she'll pick the male tribute first, I got even more excited. I waited untill she pulled the paper out of the bowl before yelling I volunteer.

I am the first Cole boy to volunteer.

I am the first District 1 tribute that didn't listen to the rules. I feel sorry for John, the 18 year old who was supposed to have this honor, but I don't really care either. Jayden picks the female tribute. She's nice, the female tribute. But nice won't win the Hunger games. Jayden makes Lottie and I shake hands. I grip her hand tight and I see the pain in her eyes. I lean in close to her ear and whisper "mirror mirror on the wall, who's going to be the one to kill them all?" I pull back and give her this wild smile and she looks terrified of me.