In my high school World Literature class, we just finished our utopia/dystopia unit. My group read The Hunger Games (and it was flipping rad). We had many choices for our final project, to include collage, short story, song collection, poem collection, everything requiring a rationale to support it. I chose to write a short story.

This is from Cato's point of view. It is about the training that the careers would receive before volunteering. I tried to show Cato as a confused child in some points to show the dystopian side better. Here it is!

---

    September 17, 2151

    I survived.
   
    Barely.

    September 9, 2157

    I am twelve this year. At the Academy, this is sort of a big deal. I suppose it would be the equivalent of entering High School for the other kids. The weak kids, as Father would say. We learn to spar, we train with a variety of weapons. We take tests on what we have already learned in previous years. Every-other month, we spend a week by ourselves in the woods without any resources. My father takes this schooling more serious now. He talks to my instructors and makes sure I stay at the top of my class.

    I am starting to resent my father.

    September 9, 2160

    I am fifteen now. Our training is harder than ever before. I am assigned a partner for the year to fight with. Every day, we go against each other. We fight in enclosed spaces. Someone has to keep the other down for a minute. The loser is shamed. I never lose.

    The instructors teach us where on the neck to cut someone. They show us how to snap someone's neck. My fighting partner and I become close friends. We help each other with tests and the occasional assignment. My father doesn't like him very much, and keeps telling me not to get too close to him. But I enjoy having a good friend.

    September 17, 2161

        On the first day of school, we were paired up with our fighting partners from last year. I'm glad to be with my friend again; it is a relief. Besides him, I have not been able to make many friends.

    But after one week we were given some shocking news: we would be stimulating the real Games at the Academy. We would fight to the death with our partners. I tell my father about how upset I am, how unfair it is, and he gets angry. He hits me. He tells me that only the weak care about it, and he knows his son is better than that. So I suck it up.

    September 19, 2161
   
    I killed him. I might as well have killed myself.

    I did not show up to the celebration afterwards. It would have made me sick. I knew that I would hear from my father, but I didn't care. I sat on the roof of the Academy and watched the festivities with anger.

    Another student approached me. "I take it that you're angry that you won, too," was all that she said. I just nodded my head. She sat next to me in silence. After a long time, she introduced herself as Clove. I knew that name, she was at the top of the girls' class, as I was on top of the boys'. It was a very real possibility that we could fight together in the Games. She was a threat.

    September 9, 2163

    On the first day of my last year at the Academy, I am told that I will have to volunteer to represent District 2 at the 74th annual Hunger Games. All of the eighteen year olds hold a celebration in honor of me and the female volunteer. Of course, it is her. We sit together, we discuss strategy, we both give speeches about how honored we are. Later, we confide in each other about how much we hate each other.

    I like her and do not look forward to having to slit her throat.

    January 1, 2164

    Today was the reaping. In District 2, no one is ever reaped. No one ever has any cause to worry. In a way, this twisted district is probably the safest for those outside of the Academy. Everyone is still accounted for and everyone's name is still in the bowl, but a name is never picked. Clove steps forward first, and everyone claps as she walks onto the stage.

    Everyone waits for me to speak up. The poor, confused girl from the Capitol almost reaches into the bowl full of names before I speak up. "I volunteer!" I shout, the color draining from my face. I am thrust in front of many cameras, made to shake hands with Clove, and keep my cool the entire time.

    I have never hated myself more.

    Before I leave for the Capitol, my father says goodbye. He tells me that he shall surely see me again in a month's time. Then he says that he has never been more proud.

    I realize that this is the moment that I hate myself the most. I have let somebody else take over my life and use me.

    I have become a piece in these games.

So, on Friday, I went and watched The Hunger Games. It was so good, I came home and immediately started reading the book that night. And I finished it last night (or this morning) at 0200. Then I proceeded to get on my computer and "like" Hunger Games on Facebook and follow Hunger Games blogs on Tumblr.

Today, Mama P (my friend's mother, who I live with) reserved the second book for me at the college book store. I'm so excited to read it, I'll jizz in my pants when I get that book in my hands.

Anyway- I watched the movie first, and then read the book. I know that is backwards. My friends kept talking about how much they all loved it and how they were rereading the first book before the movie. I was so curious that I was planning on reading it, and then the "adoptive family" started talking about seeing the movie Friday and my best friend offered to pay my way... so I just couldn't refuse.

I have a tiny little bladder which I filled with Mountain Dew and Snapple, but I sat through that whole movie almost sweating from the need to void because I couldn't bear to miss a second. I cried through most of it. Naturally, when I got home and found out that Mama P had the book, I stayed up until 0100 that night to read through half of it.

Now, I really enjoyed the movie, but every part that I liked in the movie was twenty times better in the book. Every part I didn't understand in the movie was explained in full in the book. I'm actually pretty happy that I saw the movie before the book. It was like skimming the book and then reading it in full. I got many pleasant surprises.

I read the last scene five times and then shamefully cried a little about it. It was so much sadder and more emotionally-charged in the book than in the movie. I never really understood how much Katniss was faking in the movie. But in the book, it was clear as day for the reader - but not for Peeta. My heart broke for him.

So I've been spending all day fan-girling over the Hunger Games and mostly Peeta Mellark. And singing this song:

Well, here is how I'm currently wearing my hair. I literally just woke up and combed it.



I'm looking to do something a little more feminine, but still short. I can't really grow my hair out at this point because I have to be able to wear it within military regulations (and my hair will not grow long enough to wear it in a neat bun by July). I have already done a short pixie cut and am not looking to go back:



I want to get a bob, I think. I would keep my bangs just like they are now, and get the bob just below my ears (as soon as my hair gets that long.) I was thinking it might look SOMETHING, not EXACTLY, like this:




Only I guess an inch or so shorter. Hmm. I don't know if this would look flattering on me?! I also don't know who this lady is >.> I wonder if I should get a bob, or something else entirely?

Huh.