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This is going to be a story about Johanna Mason that starts from her Games all the way to the end of Mockingjay. So yes, there are spoilers. It's going to be a bit like a three-shot (does that even make any sense?) since I can't fit everything into a one-shot, and it's too short to be a short series. So I'm going to settle for a three-shot, if such a thing even exists.

This lovely story/three-shot/piece of written work/thing was requested by the amazing duhBekah!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins.

fury [noun]

1. destructive rage verging on madness

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

She always took people by surprise; with her size, with her skill, with her replies.

And she doesn't know how to feel about that; whether to be irritated at the fact that they think so little of her, or to be deviously glad that they underestimate her.

Johanna Mason is more than what you think she is, and she's more than just some tiny little girl who sits at home and waits for the future to come.

She's not like most girls - she climbs up trees and hacks away at the trunks, even though it's considered a man's job. Johanna finds it funny, that they would categorize jobs by gender - all the work they're doing goes to the Capitol anyways.

It's pointless.

Day after day, Johanna works. She cuts down trees with her axe, and she takes satisfaction in hearing the thud of the tree as it reverberates into the earth, as if the more trees that fell to her hand, the more the Capitol would shake, so far away.

Johanna hauls the wood to the shops and she continues chopping. She swings her axe at the trees and pretends that every blow is one delivered to the Capitol personally.

One for every child that dies in the Hunger Games.

And one for all the children that will continue to die for their entertainment.

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

But despite her hate towards the Capitol, Johanna isn't coated in bitterness.

Only in the forest, where no one can hear her scream. Where the trees fall under her hand, and she feels like she has some sort of control over something.

But back in her little house on the outskirts of District 7, Johanna is a loving sister and a playful cousin. She is a hardworking daughter and a beloved niece.

Every day, Johanna would scurry up the trees before she axed it down, to look for bird's eggs in their nests to bring home to her younger siblings and her little cousins.

Pale, speckled, smooth eggs lie in a row in her house, a collection of little trinkets that she brings home every day. Johanna relishes in seeing the little children squeal in delight over her newest discovery.

And her uncle and aunt that lived with her would boom loudly about what a sweet cousin she is, and her parents would smile at her with a twinkle in their hazel eyes.

Her older sister would roll her eyes, and all the little children would giggle and shriek with glee.

And Johanna would be the reason for it all, the reason for the happiness so commonly found in this little household.

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

Johanna's life is more than fine, in her opinion. She has the forest to work in, where she can scream until her lungs feel like they're being torn apart. She has the birds and the trees and leaves to listen to her, and her axe against the tree trunks to rid of the anger she has for the Capitol.

She has her family to come home to; the family that she loves and the family that she would die for.

But this happiness is short-lived, and Johanna curses herself for ever thinking that things would be okay in this world; not with the Capitol ruling them.

When Johanna is fifteen, she is Reaped to participate in the Hunger Games.

She doesn't know what to think, doesn't know what to do; not when it's her name that's been drawn out of thousands of slips, and with her family giving out strangled cries all around her.

Johanna sees the look on her older sister's face, so wrought with grief and horror; she would have volunteered for Johanna, she knew it - but she's nineteen now, and Johanna doesn't know if she would rather see Annaleigh walk up to the podium instead of her.

She can see the look on her parent's faces, her aunt and uncle's faces mirroring theirs. They clasp onto each other like they'll never let go, and tears are streaming from their face like waterfalls, looking at her frantically and filled with terror.

And as Johanna walks slowly to the podium, she passes the face of her little brother. Little Declan with his face contorted in anguish, watching as she walked by. It was his first year, his first time being enrolled in the Reapings, and no - he wasn't supposed to see this.

Johanna climbs the stage, and the Capitol escort pushes her up, forcing her to move faster. His touch burns like acid on Johanna's skin, and she wants to hiss at him; he's from the Capitol.

She doesn't know what to do, standing like fool on the podium, with the cameras trained on her. Johanna can see her little cousins in the children's pen, crying hysterically, almost drowning out the words of the escort.

And all Johanna can see are the faces of her family scattered throughout the crowd, crying as they see her on the stage that announces her as a pig going to the slaughter.

She fumes, because this is the Capitol's fault, and now she will never see her family again and she'll never play with her baby cousins or go to Annaleigh's wedding or tease Declan for having a girlfriend. She'll never find love herself and she'll never have children with a face like her own; she'll never see the forest again and she will never bring home another egg for the children to play with. And it's all the Capitol's fault.

The tears that trickle down her face burn her skin, and Johanna tries to wipe them away, but they're coming too fast.

She'll never hug her parents again. Her aunt and uncle won't give her a praise ever again. No more family dinners and no more late-night talks.

Johanna can't help but to think about all the things she will lose in a matter of weeks, and all the things she'll never have; all thanks to the Capitol.

One tear for every little thing she'll never have, for every little thing she'll miss.

And they're tears of anger because this isn't fair, she's not supposed to be up here, she's supposed to go home and stay with her family forever.

Soon, Johanna is a blubbering mess on the stage, not even hearing the boy's name being drawn. She can't see through the tears and the anger that clouds her vision, and she hates herself for crying like a baby, but she hates the Capitol for making her look like this more.

The hate and the loss mixed together is making her cry, and she can't help the tears running down her face or the steaming, bitter hate in her mouth.

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

She's pushed into a room, and she sits on the couch, trying to compose herself.

Her family bursts into the room - all of them rushing in, running for her.

None of them can speak through the tears and none of them can do anything but cry.

"Why do you have to go?" Jeremy, her youngest cousin, wailed loudly.

"You'll come back, right?" Rhine, her other cousin pleads, tears shining in her dark green eyes. "Right?"

"You have to." Declan said stubbornly, though his voice trembles.

"Mommy, make Johanna stay!" Livi shouted to her mother. Johanna's aunt only shook her head slowly, shaking silently with tears.

"My baby girl. My beautiful baby girl." Johanna's mother sobs, hugging Johanna tightly. "My little girl."

Annaleigh held her little sister with a viselike grip.

"You'll come back. I know it." She whispered into Johanna's hair, letting a few tears drop onto her hair. "You have to."
Johanna nods and tries to seal everybody's face into her memory, but the tears in her eyes make everything blurry and she' s left with nothing but a distorted picture of the life she used to have.

"Find water." Her father gasps through his tears. "And stay away from the other tributes."

"You're small, but you're strong." Annaleigh shook Johanna firmly. "Remember that."

"You'll try to come home?" Declan asks Johanna timidly, clutching his older sister's hand like he used to when he was still an innocent boy. "You can't leave us behind."
"I will. I'll try my best." Johanna chokes out, her throat raw and scratchy from all the tears.

"I love you." Her mother whispered, clutching onto her father's arm tightly.

And all around her, Johanna's family surrounded her, whispering I love you.

Over and over again, the three words are repeated, floating through the air, carrying bits of Johanna's old life in them, of what she used to have.

I love you.

Johanna chasing Rhine, Livi, and Jeremy around the house, yelping and screaming with happiness.

I love you.

Annaleigh and Johanna having long conversations on their bed, planning out the wedding and the family that they both wanted to have, Declan laughing when he walked in on them.

I love you.

Her parents dancing during celebrations, letting her dance in the middle; her aunt and uncle swaying nearby, smiling.

I love you.

And in the middle, Johanna cried, the memories hitting her with full force; the faces of the people she'll miss most surrounding her.

"I love you, too."
She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

.

They take her away; whisking her to the Capitol. The tears are streaming down her face the whole time, with the memories fresh like a wound, and the sight of her family being dragged away from her as they cry out her name.

Johanna manages to compose herself a little on the train, but her anger towards the Capitol does not ebb away. They took away everything she had, and everything she could ever have.

By the time Johanna is sitting at the table for dinner on the train, she is fuming, despite the fact that her eyes are pink-tinged from all her crying.

The boy sitting next to her stares stonily ahead; a seventeen-year-old, by the looks of it.

Their mentor, Blight, walks in, his footsteps sounding like tree trunks crashing into the earth.

He sits down and eyes his two tributes with weary eyes.

They look the same to him, the same as the last year's tributes and next year's tributes. They're always the same, with scared eyes and hopeless chances.

Johanna stares at Blight, ready to take in whatever knowledge he gives her. She had promised her family that she would win, and Blight was the person who was going to give her all the information she needed to go back home.

But what he says is unexpected and not the least bit helpful at all.

"You," Blight points to Johanna with his bottle, "are a fool."
Johanna is taken aback, because that was not what she was expecting, not from the person who was supposed to help her survive whatever the Capitol threw at her in a week.

"Crying the whole entire time?" Blight accuses. "In front of all the cameras?"
Johanna opens her mouth to defend herself, but Blight cuts her off.

"How am I supposed to work with that?" He growls. "Now you definitely won't have any sponsors. You're too weak."

And those two words - too weak - struck Johanna like lightning.

Johanna Mason was not weak.

"Before you try to stick up for yourself, honey, I should let you know that the Capitol doesn't like tears." Blight hisses at Johanna. "And neither do I. Tears are for the sniveling cowards who have no chance of winning, and already you've proven that to me."
Johanna seethes, because she is no coward, and she is not weak. She stands up from the dinner table and leaves without a word, stomping all the way back to the compartment.

No one stops her.

They all thought she was some fool, some weak crying fool who couldn't do a thing.

They were wrong. They were all wrong. Johanna Mason was not some prissy, snivelling coward who was pathetic and useless.

She would prove it to them. To all of them.

But why did she have to prove it to them? Johanna didn't have to show the Capitol anything. She didn't owe it to them - not after all they did - and she sure wasn't going to try and impress them.

Johanna didn't need Blight or the Capitol to win. She was fine all by herself. She didn't need to win over anybody, and she sure as hell didn't want to.

So they saw her as a blubbering dunderhead? Fine. Johanna didn't have to try and change their minds - they had no part in whether or not she was going to win. And she was going to win.

She didn't need their help, and she didn't want it. There was no way the filthy Capitol was going to assist her in any way. And never in a thousand years would she accept it.

In fact, she deduced as she rolled over on her bed, it was better this way.

Johanna was already a weakling, another victim to them. They didn't know about her strength or her abilities, and she would play it to her advantage.

It only made her all the deadlier when she unveiled what she could really do.

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

.

Johanna decides to play her part as the crying buffoon throughout the whole entire train ride.

Blight thought she was weak? She didn't need his help; since when did anyone besides the Careers get sponsors, anyway? There was no use in wasting time and energy trying to charm the Capitol when she could be preparing to win.

Already, her plan was developing in her mind.

Johanna already created herself in front of Panem as another useless victim who will die. She would continue the part, letting everyone think that she was weak; underestimating her. Nobody would pay attention to her, let alone even think she was competition.

Then, when the time was right, with all of their guards lowered from her reputation, she would take them out and win.

It was perfect. All Johanna had to do was cry and cry and cry.

And that's exactly what she did.

Johanna cried as she left the train. She cried when they gave her the makeover, loud enough for the other tributes to hear her. Johanna even let a few tears trickle down her face during the parade, making sure that she shook and trembled, looking around with fearful eyes.

She cried when they were in the training centre, just sitting in the corner, wailing loudly as the Careers threw their spears and knives. While she cried, or let out the occasional whimper, she observed everyone. Johanna saw the Careers and took note of all of their skills and build, as well as any other tribute she thought was worth observing.

She would cry hysterically whenever a trainer offered her a weapon to practice with, pretending that she was deathly afraid of weapons, when in reality, she was eying the axes in the corner.

Johanna made sure to tie feeble knots and identify plants incorrectly during her judging. She cried during the judging and sniffled quietly the whole way through. Blight shook his head when they saw that she got a 1 on her training score - she's surprised they didn't give her a 0 - but Johanna had a silent celebration in her room when everyone was asleep.

Johanna shook noticeably during the interviews, and spoke softly in a trembling voice, making sure to let her eyes water multiple times. She gave the most fearful replies and wiped her eyes with large motions that everyone was sure to notice.

It was almost too easy to cry on command - Johanna pinched her eyes slightly before entering any public place and thought about all the saddest things she could come up with - her family dying, District 7 being bombed, the forest being reduced to ashes.

But mostly, she thought about the Capitol taking away everything she had, and the angry tears would start up again. As long as no one saw her fists, then it was fine.

By the night before the Games started, Johanna knew that she had succeeded in the first part of her plan.

All of Panem saw her as a fool. As a weakling, completely hopeless and most definitely a bloodbath victim. All of the other tributes saw her as easy prey; pitiful and so pathetic that they wouldn't even bother with her.

Johanna smiled, looking out her window at the world that thought she was a weak coward.

She fooled them all. And now, she was one step closer to returning home to her family.

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

.

Johanna runs away from the bloodbath, not daring to even grab a knife. She was supposed to be the frail Johanna that was afraid of weapons, and she couldn't betray her act by carrying one.

Johanna ran away and hid herself, staying away from all the tributes.

That year's arena was a construction site. There were half-finished buildings and houses missing their roofs; streets missing their road and apartment missing their walls. Construction vehicles littered the arena; trucks, cranes, bulldozers, forklifts - all of which were frozen in position, in the middle of a gruesome dance.

Everything seemed to creak and sway, ready to fall at any second.

Johanna hid in the tallest apartment, on the fifth level. There was a wall missing, along with the roof of the apartment. The floors were missing a few planks and the ceiling was missing a few beams.

Johanna holed herself in a crack between the walls, feeling the structure swaying slightly.

From the height of the apartment, Johanna could see most of the arena. There was the Cornucopia not too far away, with all the bloody bodies and Careers hacking away. Along the unfinished street she was on, there were a few other half-finished houses and apartments; trucks and cranes at every corner.

If she squinted hard enough, Johanna could see a section of the arena where it was nothing but bulldozed flat land, with what she assumed was a bulldozer nearby.

There were no trees. No grass, no plants, no vegetation. Everything was dust and dirt; brown and grey, the skies bleak and unfriendly.

Johanna hid in her tiny hole in the wall, even as night passed. The Careers passed by her building once, but they quickly bypassed it after seeing how unstable it was; unwilling to take their chances in venturing up. The large boy from District 5 also passed by her apartment and seemed to have camped out in the house across from her.

Johanna stood as still as stone, almost as if she was a part of the structure herself. Night came, and she counted the faces in the sky - fourteen. Johanna almost lets out a laugh when she sees her district partner in the sky - Blight had trained him, and he had tried to charm the Capitol, and what use did that do for him? He was dead by the first day.

Now that night covered the arena, Johanna slipped out of the crack she had been hiding in. Her stomach was rumbling, and her limbs were all creaky and cramping from the countless hours in the cramped space.

Tentatively, Johanna explored the floor she was in, careful not to step on any of the gaps in the floor or any planks that would make squeaks. She didn't dare to go up another floor; in fear of the whole building collapsing her - it was unsteady as it was on the fifth floor - and she didn't dare go down a floor either; the District 5 boy was nearby and she didn't want to risk him seeing her.

Carefully, quietly, Johanna prowls around the fifth floor of the unfinished apartment, looking for any weapons or food - both which were unlikely.

However, Johanna managed to salvage a large, wooden stake that splintered off a floor above and fell to the ground. The ends were sharp, and the wood was strong, and Johanna tucked it into her belt as a weapon to use.

There was no water or food anywhere, and Johanna's stomach was grumbling loudly enough for the boy across the street to hear.

She was almost done doing her third round when she heard slight skittering noises.

She whirled around, gripping her stake tightly.

Staring back at her were a dozen rats, twice as large as they should be; eyes a glowing yellow without any pupil, eerie and disturbing.

Muttations.

They opened their mouths and skittered towards her, and Johanna could see the sharp fangs in their mouths - poisonous, most likely.

The rats charged at her, and Johanna raised her stake, ready to kill.

One by one, Johanna killed all the muttation rats; stabbing the ones closest to her and swinging the ones that got too close away.

Soon, there were twelve bloodied bodies of the dead rats around Johanna, who was holding a bloody stake in her hands, panting.

Johanna smiled sweetly at the camera in the corner, and delighted in imagining Panem's reaction.

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

.

For the next few weeks, Johanna lives on the rats. She discovers a furnace on the second floor of the apartment and she toasts the rats there. They're crunchy and bitter, but it's better than nothing.

The furnace also leaks water. Occasionally, just a few drops. Johanna uses an empty tin she found to collect the water. It takes hours to get anything more than just a few droplets of water, but in the end, Johanna has enough water to satiate herself for another day.

The Careers killed the District 5 across the street from her. She could hear his screams piercing the night, and her brown eyes shined down from her little crack between the wall.

The Careers entered the apartment she was staying in, as well. She could hear them climbing up the building; on the first floor, the second, the third, the fourth - but when they reached the fifth, Johanna was already out the missing wall and scurrying down the building with the bucket and stake attached to her belt, using the pipes along the side of the building.

When the Careers left the apartment, dissatisfied that they found no one there, Johanna climbed back up again, and she found that climbing up and down the pipe was quite like climbing up and down the trees back at home.

Johanna lived in that tiny apartment floor, stabbing the rats every night and even taking out a few hawk muttations that flew through the unfinished wall. There was the occasional rumble as the building slowly deteriorated; the floors above her shuddering and breaking off, letting it rain sharp splinters.

She hid in the crack between the wall during the day, and came out only at night when no one could see her figure in the building or her brown hair in the wind.

The days passed slowly, dragging on. Faces lit up the sky every night, and Johanna tallied them in her head.

Sixteen down...seventeen...eighteen...

It wasn't until there were only six tributes in the arena did Johanna leave her little apartment for good.

Armed with her stake and a determined glint in her brown eyes, Johanna hunted the arena for the last tributes, ready to go back home, no matter what it took.

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

.

Johanna found the first tribute - the girl from 3 - huddled on the seat of the crane down the street.

The girl had a knife, and she held it tightly, her knuckles turning white. Her face was gaunt, eyes crazed, her stringy blonde hair hanging in front of her face.

"I-I want to be a-allies." Johanna whimpered, adopting the stutter and quiet tone she used during her interview. She hid her stake behind her back, ready for its access if needed.

The girl did not lower her knife.

"It's too late in the Games for allies." She shook. "Go now, or I'll kill you."
Johanna widened her eyes in fear and back away quickly, tripping slightly over her shoes.

Even though her eyes were laced with the fear she was so used to faking, Johanna noticed the girl and her fragile state. The way she held onto her knife with both hands, too tightly to unravel in her frenzied state.

It would be unfortunate, really, if someone was to attack her from a distance and she couldn't throw her knife in time; not what that grip in that state.

Johanna took a few more steps back, the girl's panicked grey eyes never leaving her. When Johanna saw the girl let out a small breath of relief, Johanna took her chance.

With lightning speed, Johanna pulled out her stake and threw it at the girl, piercing her through her throat. The poor girl's hands didn't even have enough time to let go of the knife before she fell over, dead.

Her cannon rung, and Johanna pried the knife out of the dead girl's hand, testing out the weight of the weapon in her hand.

Johanna continued hunting for the four remaining tributes, never looking back at the dead girl; her first kill.

Johanna had to go back home, had to go back to her family - she promised - and there had to be some sacrifices.

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

.

One by one, Johanna finds them all.

The boy from 2, the girl from 1, and the girl from 4.

Johanna kills the muttations that they throw at her - hawks with cutting feathers and sharp claws, rats with poisonous fangs and deadly speed, beetles with unbreakable shells and lethal pincers.

She finds the remaining tributes, and all three of them - Careers, they were - all laugh when they see her, the frail, weak, shaking Johanna with a knife in her hand and a grim smile on her face.

"I'll go easy on you, Seven." The boy from 2 smirks. "Just for you and your condition."

Johanna breaks his ribs with her own hands and pins him to the ground, stabbing him in the heart. He's dead in minutes, after a knife fight that he wasn't expecting, barely giving Johanna a few shallow cuts before she kills him.

The boy is in bleeding tatters by the end of it all, and Johanna knows that everyone is watching as she pulls out the knife from his cold body.

"My, my, my. Look at what came tumbling in." The girl from 1 purrs. "Isn't this lovely?"
Johanna stands as still as stone, watching as the tall brunette picks out a machete with a deadly curve.

"I'll have fun playing with you." She says sweetly, her smile filled with acid.

Johanna breaks both of her wrists and slits her throat, the self-confidant smirk still on the dead girl's face; dead too quickly to process what had happened.

Johanna takes the axe from the dead girl's pile of supplies, along with her food and water. The axe is familiar in her hand, and if she bypasses the cuts on her hands and the body in front of her, she might even fool herself to believe she was back home again.

"Do you honestly think you can kill me?" The girl from 4 laughs, barking. "I'd like to see you try."

Johanna hacks at the girl, despite the girl's best efforts to evade her powerful swings. A large gash rips open in the girl's stomach after Johanna's last blow, like a gruesome smile on her stomach.

The organs come spilling out, and the girl dies before she can get the rest of her pained scream out.

Johanna yanks her axe from the girl's bleeding stomach, wipes the blade of the axe with the dead girl's shirt, and continues on, already looking for her next victim.

She was not the prey.

Johanna Mason was the hunter, and she wouldn't stop until she was the last one alive.

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

.

The boy from District 1 is her last target.

He's a bulky eighteen year old boy, with at least a decade of experience and a thirst for victory and blood.

Johanna was nothing but a measly fifteen year old with her life spent in anger, fuelling on by her drive to go back home to her family and the life she had.

"Are you going to kill me?" The boy asked, an amused smile on his face. "Little bitty girl from District 7?"

Johanna only grips her axe tighter, staring at the boy and the club in his hands.

"Do you honestly think you can do it?" The boy hisses. "So you can return home to your little hick family by the forest?"

Johanna grits her teeth and her eyes flash with burning hatred when the boy mentions her family like that. But no, she will not be the first to strike. She turns the handle of the axe over and over in her hands, but she will not be the fool and hit first.

"Let me remind you of the odds right now, Seven." The boy grins, a malicious glint in his eyes. "I have fifteen years of training, and you've had absolutely none. I got a ten in training. You got a one."

"I'd say the odds are in my favour right now." The boy laughs to the sky, completely crazed.

Without a warning, the boy snaps his head back to Johanna and charges at her, his club held like a bat, ready to swing at her head.

Johanna ducks and steps nimbly aside, reappearing behind the boy with her axe raised and ready.

The boy growls and charges at her again, swinging for her head, then swinging for her legs when he misses.

Johanna leaps and dodges all of the boy's furious hits, and the boy roars in frustration as Johanna disappears from his sight for the fifth time. She quickly shimmers up the crane next to them, perched between the bars.

"Come out, come out, little girl." The boy calls. "There's no time to hide when I've got a Game to win."

Johanna watches as the big, burly boy spins around in circles looking for her, and she positions her axe. It's too hard to throw her axe down at him, not with the crane's bars in her way.

Without a warning, Johanna leaps down from her post on the crane to the boy's back, the unexpected weight making the boy crumble to the ground.

Johanna raises her axe, ready to deliver the final blow, but the boy keeps on squirming around, quickly turning over to see Johanna on his back. He grabs his club, but before he could even wrap his fingers around the dull weapon, Johanna brings down her axe and hacks off the boy's arm.

The boy roars with pain, the arm lying inches away from the socket, blood pooling from the wound.

Without hesitation, Johanna hacks off his other arm, and his screams intensify, sounding too primal to be human.

Blood pools from underneath him, already forming a large puddle.

Johanna stands up, her feet ankle-deep in the boy's oozing blood, watching as he squirms around, trying to get up without the balance of his arms. She holds the axe in her hand, blood dripping from the blade.

"The odds lie." Johanna spits out, the burning anger of the Capitol underestimating her coursing through her veins.

The boy looks up at her with fearful eyes, the shadow of her body blocking out any dull sunlight. The shining blade of her axe and the vicious look in her deep brown eyes will be the last thing he ever sees.

With one quick, clean slice, Johanna severs the head of the boy from the body, just like how she would sever the trunks of the trees back at home.

The cannon rings, and a shocked voice declares her as the victor.

The hovercraft lifts the boy's remains, and the blood that drips from his wounds falls onto Johanna's head; raining blood from the death that she created.

Johanna is the victor, and she is going to go home.

But looking around her, looking at the abandoned, ghostly construction site and the puddles of blood, Johanna knew that it wouldn't be the same.

She may have fooled everybody, but she couldn't fool herself. She was different now, and she's not the same person she used to be. Johanna knows that the girl who played with her little cousins and climbed up trees for eggs is long gone; dead like the rest of the tributes.

Because none of them ever leave the arena, not really.

But Johanna shrugs off the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach and prepares herself to be returned back home again, barely believing that she actually did it - she won the Hunger Games and now she was going to go back home and see her family.

The weak, fearful Johanna Mason was this year's victor.

She's not what you expected, no, she isn't.

Thanks for reading!

So, what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know through a review!

Yes, if you may or may not have noticed, I did write this out a little differently than my other stuff. I usually don't write in third person unless it's for a one-shot (two-shot? three-shot?) and I normally don't have a reoccurring line in the story that appears every now and then. However, I do quite like it for this one-shot, three-shot/thing and I was just going along with it as I wrote. I really only did this once for another story of mine, so I'm wondering if you guys like it for this story.

I kind of wrote this in the middle of the night - funny how inspiration strikes at the strangest of times. So I apologize if there are a bunch of errors in here, with a ton of characters just kind of thrown at you and just nothing making sense at all. So yes, basically I am apologizing for writing out a bunch of gibberish and posting it up. Sorry ):

And, if you haven't known about it already, I have a little challenge of mine in which I write backstories for existing characters in the Hunger Games series. Often, I just write whenever the inspiration sparks for whatever random character I'm thinking about, but I do also take requests! If there's a character you'd like for me to write about, then just let me know through a review or a private message, and I'll be sure to write out your request (:

Once again, thanks for reading!