maddiereid97
At thirteen, Hayley Santos knows the sound of an axe biting into wood better than she knows the sound of her own laughter. District 7 has shaped her hands into calluses, her muscles into quiet strength, and her mind into something tougher than bark. She spends her days working with her father Jim in the lumber yards, climbing trees higher than the watchtowers, and coming home to the thump of her dog Rocco's tail against the floor. Life is harsh, but it is familiar. The Capitol is distant, terrifying, and mostly watched from a screen. Until Hayley's name is drawn.
The 71st Hunger Games tears Hayley from the forests she knows and drops her into an arena that feels like a cruel reflection of home. This arena is a labyrinth of towering trees, choking undergrowth, shifting platforms, and hidden traps. Nature is both weapon and shield. The Gamemakers twist forests into cages, roots into snares, branches into execution platforms. Hayley, with her red hair, green eyes, and tongue sharp enough to cut, must do more than climb trees to survive. She must climb past her own fear.
As the youngest tribute in the Games, Hayley is dismissed, underestimated, and targeted. She learns quickly that in this arena survival is not just about who holds the sharpest blade, but who uses their words like weapons and their silence like armor. She discovers how to bait Careers with sarcasm, how to disarm potential threats with honesty that sounds like mockery, and how to hide her terror behind a smirk. Every alliance she forms is built on shaky ground, every moment of trust measured against the risk of betrayal.