I think fleetingly of the sheepskin fringed denim and tartan top I'd worn for the parade; the cow skin strapless dress I'd worn during my interview. I was so nervous that I'd kept cracking jokes – that much I can remember. It's all that seems real. I've been so focused on training that the thought of home, and possibly never returning there, doesn't seem as real.
I turn and my stylist fades out of sight. I can barely see her trademark yellow jeans as I rise up inside the cocoon of the lift. Blinding sunshine hits me as I lift my head up.
I feel naked and exposed. The tall looming towers around me make me instantly feel that I'll never see my brothers ever again.
Although I'd been training for mad for the weeks after the Reaping, I feel fat and colourless next to the ripped Careers. The two tributes for District 1 give each other a loving glance. This wasn't a ploy for the cameras; I'd heard they'd been together for years. Soon to be torn apart. But I guess that's just the brutality of the Games.
Looking around properly for the first time I could see that the towers were actually connected to form this gigantic structure. We were all standing inside an amphitheatre; derelict and ruined. Bricks and rubbish were strewn all around us. The floor of the place seemed to be decorated with tiny stones, and crumbling rubble; and soon blood. Some parts of the amphitheatre had almost completely rotten away. I saw a small hidey hole located behind the Cornucopia. Only a few might be able to fit through it in one piece.
The buzzer went off and immediately I sprinted off towards the opening. If there's one thing I ride myself one, it's how fast I can run when the situation require. I was so focused on this that I tripped on a piece of rubble. I grabbed whatever it was next to me as I hoisted myself up. I ran round the side of the Cornucopia and slid into the cubbyhole. I found that it was a tunnel and start to run.
I have to get as far away as possible. With so many people in such a tight space I have to find safety; fast.