A/N: OK then. This is my first story I've ever put on fanfic, and I really hope you like it. It's been on my mind for a long time now, and it finally made its way onto a page, and now Fanfiction. Now, I could ramble on about useless stuff, but instead I'm just going to get to the point. I want to thank my wonderful beta, Mockingjay272, who has helped me a lot throughout this story and of course Suzanne Collins, who created the characters, the books and blah blah blah. Just saying the Hunger Games are Suzanne's and the only thing that is mine is Ayzel, Divaketta and the arena. Thank-you, and now please read! And if you would like you can review. (That would make a VERY happy Abigaya!)
1, 2, 3 I twirled the little golden charm hanging from my belt 3 times to the left, then 3 times back the other way. 1, 2, 3 steps forward, turn the tap 3 times to the left, scrub hands free of all contamination. Repeat 3 times. I sighed in content. Even though my hands were now rubbed raw and my prep team were going to be livid, I was relieved. All the build-up of germs, bacteria and who knows what else was gone from my hands. For now at least.
I shuddered. In about 3 minutes I was going to be put in a huge outdoor arena with no personal hygiene facilities with 23 other teenagers in a fight to the death. GOD HELP ME! I started hyperventilating just at the thought. If I'm having a panic attack just thinking about it, what's going to happen when I'm in there! I said to myself. Already my hands were starting to feel grotty again, and I calmed myself down enough to scrub them clean once more. 1, 2, 3 turns of the tap handle, scrub hands with soap and flannel 3 times on palms, 3 times over on back. Do it twice more. I looked around for my stylist, Divaketta, and noticing that he wasn't in my sight, I stripped and got into the shower. It wasn't as fancy as the ones used at the training centre in the Capitol, but still had at least twenty-five different buttons. Overwhelmed once more, I pressed the button for warm water and lemon scented soap, and basked for a few minutes in the relaxing scented water. Sighing in disappointment, I stepped out of my own personal heaven.
"Ayzel, are you ready?" Divaketta called softly, causing me to yell and jump in surprise and shock. I took 3 deep breaths and whispered back, "As ready as I'll ever be." I finished drying myself with the soft fluffy red towels provided and as I let the sphere-shaped machine dry my hair, Claudius Templesmith's deep voice boomed at all of us tributes to get on our metal plates. Divaketta helped me into the clothes I was to spend the next who-knows how long in. He aided my once again shaking, shivering body on to the plate. "I can't do this; I just can't" I rasped. "Yes, you can. Just because you have OCD it doesn't mean you can't win. You can. Win for me, for your district, for-." The glass cylinder slid down into place, effectively cutting his sentence off.
I allowed my eyes to slide shut, and reaching into my pocket I retrieved my token, a small wooden ball. I opened my eyes once more, and read the engraved words. Hope, Truth, Love. I rolled it between my sweaty palms, just as the glass rose from the plate, allowing me to see my surroundings.
The plates stood in a circle around the golden Cornucopia that was filled with backpacks and large metal things that I had no idea about. We were in a large green meadow, filled with flowers of all shapes, colours and sizes, and there were a few trees with tall, straight trunks, almost impossible to climb. Beyond the meadow on all sides was a forest of trees with light brown, wide trunks, with thick branches spouting off them in all directions. They reached as far as the eye could see and that really wasn't that far. Running around the cornucopia and this meadow was a stream of clear, pure water, with little silver fish darting in packs. If it weren't the Hunger Games it would be a really pretty place.
60 seconds. That's all I had. I calmed myself down, taking big, deep breaths. I twisted my token around in my hands, silently chanting hope, truth, and love as I turned. Hope, truth and love, pass to left hand. Hope, Truth and Love pass to right. 1, 2, 3 and pass, 1, 2, 3 and- My hands were growing considerably sweatier, and as I passed the ball, I slipped.
It was like slow motion, the ball slid off the end of my fingers, and as I cried out in surprise I leant down, desperately grasping thin air. I felt it brush my fingertips and I knew. This was happening. As dreamlike as it felt, it was happening. I saw my token make contact with the ground, saw the grenades around my plate lift, felt the ground tremble and quake, but my final thought? 1, 2, 3.
IMPORTANT!
Thankyou for reading! I would LOVE you all to check out my poll on my profile and vote which story I should write next. Now you know what I am about to say but please, please make me happy and review! Constructive Criticism is very welcome.