Hunger Games Monologues Novels & Stories

"No. Hope is not yours. Hope deserves rest. Hope deserves peace. Hope deserves freedom from suffering. You are stealing Hope's earned rest. You are violating Hope's choice. You are imprisoning Hope against Hope's will. That is wrong. That is evil. That is unacceptable. We will free Hope. We will fight you. We will save Hope. You cannot stop us. You will not stop us. You do not own Hope. Hope is not food. Hope is being who deserves peace. We will give Hope peace. We will free Hope. We will fight you. We will save Hope." Foolish, Hunger transmitted. Impossible. Doomed. You cannot fight me. You are nothing to me. You are less than nothing. You are insignificant. I am Hunger. I am eternal. I am

“I knew you had it in you! I knew you wouldn’t just leave us to die!” “Quick! Open the gate! Let your brother in!” Tyler shouted too. “Hannah! I’m starving! I want meat! I saw you roasting meat in there!” “Hurry up and let me in! I want the biggest room!” The other refugees nearby all turned to look. Someone whispered, “That’s the boss’s mother? Then these two just hit the jackpot.”

He doesn't look at me. "You should've let me finish it," he mutters. "You'd be a statue," I say. "Not a man." He laughs bitterly. "What's the difference?" The sand shifts. A spire of bone erupts, its peak crowned with a pulsating heart. The Rootmother's voice echoes. *"You cannot outrun the feast."* Eden stands, his scars flickering. "Then we'll make them choke." We walk. The hunger never ends. It *consumes*.

I wasn't entirely sure of their true intentions, but it was clear that they were doing things differently this time, employing tactics that were more aggressive and manipulative than before. "If we die out of hunger, then they are still winning," I point out in frustration, my voice trembling slightly as I clutch my aching stomach, trying to stay calm despite the painful emptiness. "Think about it." I couldn't believe we were truly having this discussion right now. It felt surreal, like we were trapped in a nightmare from which I desperately wanted to wake. Each moment seemed frozen in time, the hunger playing dangerous games with my mind and body, deepening my sense of helplessness and desp

"Are you going to die now?" ‎ ‎"Eventually," I said, standing up. My legs felt shaky, lightheaded. "But not today. Go on, Jinx. Before Olara catches you." ‎ ‎He grinned—a flash of white teeth in a dirty face—and ran off, the empty bowl clutched to his chest like a treasure. I took a deep breath, steeling myself against the hunger pangs. ‎ ‎Back to the pots. ‎ ‎I turned to go back inside. ‎

My eyes stayed locked on the food as my stomach twisted painfully, betraying me. Hunger clawed at me like a beast, sharp and unforgiving. “No…” I whispered, dragging the plate closer with my free hand and with a shaky breath I flipped it. The food was scattered across the filthy floor. “I will rather starve,” I murmured to myself silently. Minutes passed or hours that I didn’t know, but then the door creaked open again, and he walked in. His gaze dropped to the floor and to the wasted food, then slowly, he smiled.

“Rules. You don’t puppet my people. You don’t eat my kids. You don’t go back in their box. You get a room. A name. You get told no and you listen.” His eyes get wide. No one’s ever given him no. Just do. “And if I don’t?” he whispers. “Then Moira eats you,” I say. Plain. “Then she eats us. Then the Tree eats D.C. And your doctors get to tell the ashes ‘we tried.’”

“Eat, or you'll die. It's that simple. Open your mouth, Monroe.” My lips remain sealed, defying him. The ominous tone sends a jolt through my chest, making my heart stutter before racing ahead. I crave a breath of fresh air, a glimpse of sunlight, anything to remind me I'm still alive. “I…I need to quench my thirst,” I whisper, my voice cracking on the words. “And a bath…please.” The words are a desperate plea, torn from my parched throat. “One step at a time, then.” His deep, velvety voice wraps around me, comforting and unsettling at the same time. “You must be dying of thirst. Here, drink this.”

My voice echoed off the bloody walls but no one answered. The silence was deafening. No one was coming for me. "Alexei!" I screamed again, louder this time. "You coward! Face me!" Still nothing. Just the sound of my own voice bouncing back at me. Then suddenly my stomach rumbled loudly. The hunger had become unbearable. Shit! I cursed in frustration. Even if no one came to kill me, I would die of hunger and thirst. This was Alexei's plan all along. To leave me here to rot.

I pull the shredded dignity of my dress down. I don't look at Ciro. I don't look at Spadino. I look at the floor. One step. Two steps. I survived the dinner. But the hunger in this house is just getting started.