Splinters in my hand are the least of my problems as my feet dangle what must be 30 feet above the surface of the Earth, but for all I care it could be a mile; I’ll be dead either way if I drop. A large, insignificant puddle along the leaf-littered jungle. Come on, I try to motivate myself, you’ve done harder than this before! I can hear the branch starting to crack and falter under my weight. I look down at my uniform for the games. I notice a small red button on the side. Risking it all, I push it. Now I only have one hand keeping me on the breaking branch; one hand between me, and the painful clutches of death. The red button activates a fanning mechanism on my uniform, and I move for just a split second which breaks the branch to about halfway until it’s shattered. Just as I begin to feel that all hope is lost, a small beeping noise reaches my ears. I look up to see the instrument of my salvation. A sliver parachute has landed on the branch above me, and it pops open in front of me. Along with a video camera for which I am not sure of the meaning, a cloth flutters out too.

The branch is now on the very last splinter of wood before it shatters. Then I realize: I have seen this type of cloth before. It’s called memory cloth. It is usually just a normal cloth, but if you can put an electric current through it the molecules realign and make it rigid. This allows you to glide without losing much altitude. Just what I need! I thank my mentor, Harper Hayes and grab the cloth along with the lightweight current gloves. I can only put on one, since my other hand is hanging onto the tree, and put the cloth down my uniform. Just in time it seems, the branch snaps and I fall backward. I activate the gloves with a squeeze, and before I know it, I am gliding among the tree, and soon I circle back to the tree with the camera and the silver parachute. I notice a note has been attached to the sliver parachute as I gracefully land on a more stable branch a few feet lower.

“Record a message to your friends and family at home,” the note reads, “and may the odds be ever in your favor.” Immediately, I know what to say. I don’t have any parents, they died in a forge fire back when I was just a boy. Since we were the richest people of District 2, they hired a butler named Alfred before they died. Alfred has been my closest friend and I consider him to be my family, even though we have no blood relation. My message will be to him. It will also be to the people of District 2, to let them know that I will win the Games. Soon, the other tributes will know defeat, and I will be living in the Victors’ Village amongst the other victors of District 2.