My feet dragged as I approached the steps of Rosse Hall, the Kenyon Pealers’ melancholic notes ringing in my ears — the soundtrack to our imminent, inescapable reaping. I was one of sixty students who received an email in their inbox inviting them to participate in Kenyon College’s third (sometimes) annual Hunger Games, and one of 21 to show up. 

The event came from the mind palaces of Maud Karambis ’27 and Zady Hasse ’28 who, dressed in their finest velvet suits, jointly took on the role of President Snow. Karambis explained, “Zady represents the more empathetic side of Snow, while I represent his more evil side.”

The idea came to Karambis and Hasse a couple weeks ago when they happened upon a YouTube video from 2012 depicting past Kenyon students’ re-creation of the games. Another video from the same account published a video of Kenyon’s second Hunger Games a year later, but the games seemed to stop after that. Until now. 

As more and more participants began to trickle in, our Presidents Snow explained the rules. The games would take place within the boundaries of Old Kenyon and the Gates of Hell, though the “arena” would get smaller and smaller as the game progressed. In order to eliminate another tribute, players must successfully steal the two ribbons tied to their person — ribbons could be stolen by hand, or weapons could be used to hit a tribute’s body, equating to the removal of a ribbon (said weapons consisted of plastic swords and Nerf guns). 

After questions and clarifications, the reaping ceremony began, and each tribute’s name was plucked from a hollow disco ball and read mightily by Tuva Siegel ’28, the games’ Effie Trinket. Each tribute would then approach the Rosse steps, participate in a short interview with the games’ host Maddy Revzon ’27, our Caesar Flickerman, and receive their ribbons.  

As we waited for our fates to be sealed, we looked around at our fellow competitors, noting who might be the easiest to kill and who should be avoided at all costs. Adele Cutler ’27 persuasively embodied the role of the reckless loose cannon, attempting to sneak weapons into the games and declaring to the group that she would “kill everyone.” Hearing this, I knew what I had to do, and asked her if we could form an alliance. She surprisingly agreed. 

Once the reaping ceremony concluded, we made our way to the science quad and formed a big circle around the quad’s statue, which was surrounded by the weapons. Karambis and Hasse counted down from 10, and then all hell broke loose. 

I chose to believe that it wasn’t a lack of skill or strength that led to me being the first death of the group — rather, my subconscious choice to play badly so that I could focus entirely on writing this article. Which is exactly what I did. Boots on the ground, pen in my hand, I spoke with as many tributes as I could chase down. 

I realized this was more than just a game when I came across Paul Snyder ’27, who was brutally killed by none other than his girlfriend of over a year, Cutler. When I asked him about this act of backstabbing, he replied, “I’m feeling pretty betrayed, honestly.” In response, Cutler remarked, “You gotta do what you gotta do to win.” I think it’s safe to say that Cutler and Snyder were not our Katniss and Peeta. 

While Cutler took an “every man for himself” approach, TJ Andrews ’27 and her team of tributes proved that alliances could be worthwhile. Andrews partnered with Ia Sofia Cabre-Jockovich ’27, Kat Skillings ’27 and others, forming a ruthless girl group that collectively and successfully preyed upon other tributes. “I’m always there to back up my alliance members,” Cabre-Jockovich shared. 

Thirty minutes into the games, a soft rain began to come down, as if the Gamemakers themselves had turned a knob to heighten the already-high stakes. At this point in the games, tributes were dropping like flies. Molly Hunt ’27 was ambushed in a surprise attack from Andrews, which resulted in her death. Meanwhile, Skillings was a menace on the battlefield, brutally killing Cutler, Ava Genco-Kamin ’27, Maddie Barbar ’27 and Elise Hornsey ’29. 

The final three tributes left standing were Skillings, Cabre-Jockovich and Conrad White ’27. As the battlefield shrunk down to the boundaries of the Science Quad, a small crowd of dead tributes and curious onlookers formed to watch the final battle scene. 

White’s downfall began when he left the bounds of the arena in an attempt to escape his imminent demise. The crowd cheered for Skillings and Cabre-Jockovich as they finished the job, killing White with a nerf bullet shot to the chest.

After successfully eliminating White, it was unclear how allies Skillings and Cabre-Jockovich would proceed. All jaws were on the floor when the two tributes charged at Presidents Snow, taking matters into their own hands Katniss- and Peeta-style. The dead tributes joined in too, uniting in this revolt against tyranny.

Sweaty and spiritful, all tributes left the games with smiles on their faces. “It just feels good to run around like a kid,” Luc Gilbreath ’27 reported. “It was a whimsical time.” 

The first place trophy? A one-of-a-kind Kenyon Hunger Games shirt with a drawn-on mockingjay that most definitely is not machine-washable (Skillings and Cabre-Jockovich will have shared custody). The participation prize? Memories of backstabbing and kinship in the South Campus arena that will last a lifetime.