Hey, I'm so sorry I wasn't updating for months, I really lost my muse and couldn't even look at the story. I think if I just make myself write then I can get these out, because I know a lot of you were invested in it and I seemed kinda bitchy last chapter. Reminder, I own nothing, yaddah yaddah, welcome back to my story. Love you all! Oh, God, I'm looking back on my earlier chapters and I'm sooo ooc on Marvel, forgive me but I'm too lazy to change my horrible writing.

We All Fall Down: The Story of Ash Malthorne

Picture a cluster of tiny villages with log cabins, steam rising from our chimneys - when the residents can get coal, that is. Dirt paths lead from one house to another, rich forest soil, a dense and muddy brown; about a foot of dead leaves lines these paths no matter where you go. Invariably half a mile from each village is a large deciduous forest.

This is District 7. My home.

This is District 7. Nothing like the smelly pine trees I can see behind the Cornucopia.

The clock is ticking down from 60; if I'm to get out alive, I'll need to pick wisely and quickly. It's best to have your eye on something for a while so you can figure out the best strategy to obtain it. The initial fight happens here, but the supplies are invaluable, so I'll have to risk it.

30 seconds left. I spot a large green bag and a spear lying on top of it, as if the Gamemakers put it there just for me. I have to have them. My body angles itself towards the items and I get ready to sprint for my life; hopefully I can evade the monstrous tribute to my right. He looks like he's from one of the lower districts, 1 or maybe 2. I don't keep track of brute tributes.

The bag seems to shimmer in the sunlight, with 15 seconds left on the clock. I can't run very fast, but I can dodge pretty well, and all I need to do is get that bag and the spear and I'm out. Shouldn't take more than a minute. I bet most of the tributes will still be blinking in the sunlight by the time I'm running into the trees.

10. The tribute on my left is a pale girl with vivid red hair. She looks terrified.

9. Do I look scared?

8. Everyone will have their eyes on my bag. I have to be quick.

7. I hope my mother is watching.

6. She'll be so proud of me when I come home.

5. I just have to get this bag.

4. Maybe kill a tribute.

3. Hold on there, Ash. Just get the bag for now.

2. Get ready.

1. Go!

A gong rings and I take off; other tributes are bolting right for the stack of goods at the mouth of the horn, much, much faster than I can run. This wasn't my best idea but I need to get the bag if I want to live.

It's not too far away, but already some of the kids have reached weapons. I can hear screaming several feet away but I don't dare look.

The bag's right in front of me. Adrenaline pumping through my body, I snatch it, take the spear, and look around; the huge, hulking guy from 11 is blocking my path.

I lunge but he's too quick, sidestepping and raising a huge sword. Oh, no. That looks really bad.

Bad, bad, bad.

I yelp as it comes nearer, trying to dodge.

Too late.

Yay, craptastic chapter. I updated, though, so WHAT NOW?! You know, if you want better chapters, you should review. Right there. Yup.