The hunger games.

A child slaughtering matrix.

I never thought much about what it must feel like to have your name called. I mean, I’ve always resisted watching the games any way. Who would force a young child from watching something so brutal? But today things will change, I knew that, but I didn’t expect it change the way it did.

It was the 12th hunger games and I, Daisy, a young female child with strawberry-blond hair and hazel eyes, had just turned twelve. I think no twelve year old really ever expected the name to be pulled because it s only been in there once! But it does happen time to time, so you’re just hoping it doesn’t happen to you. But of course when my name was pulled, I knew I was finished. I remember how that instead of being nervous when I walked up, I felt defeated and hopeless.

But something I had spark inside of me a little, hope maybe? When the game matters said they were gonna be doing things a little different this year. When they asked what item I wanted to bring into the game I replied, “A woven basket.”

They didn’t question me or mock me, they probably heard even weirder stuff people wanted to bring. But with the basket, I had a plan that might as well save my life. I created a trap, placing food and water in the basket. I pretended the basket was surrounded by bombs. I placed some poisonous food inside the basket too. Sometimes I place spiders or other poisonous insects I could find inside the handmade, wooden water and food. I watched from my hiding spot as people so innocently grabbed supplies from the basket. I watched people drop dead on the floor from eating the poisonous stuff.

I counted the bombs. Twenty-one. Twenty-one people dead. Only three people left. A couple of days later before I heard the last two bombs. I only had one thought in my mind after i heard the final bomb. I won. All thanks to a handmade, woven basket. I smiled with glee as I was escorted from the arena. It’s over. Finally.