Of course. It had to be me . Why wouldn't it have been me? I mean, for my whole life I have been very unlucky. But that was generally just things like losing thing missing my train by ten seconds, or whatever. It usually didn't involve my name being picked out of a huge glass bowl to go and face a certain death.
But these are not the panicked thoughts swirling around my mind. All I can think is; I'm going to die, I'm going to die. As I stand on the stone steps with a roaring in my ears and my knees shaking so heard I fear I may not be able to stand up any longer. I search the crowd, looking for the one persons face I really need to see. Vena's terrified blue eyes meet mine, and, with a lurch of my stomach, I know she is saying goodbye. I want to hold her, tell her that It'll be OK, but it is not long before the armed men come to take me onto the train.
A few hours later, as the train is speeding towards the place where I will be prepared to go out to fight to my death and my numb shock has worn off, leaving a strange calm, I begin to marvel at how different these games are to the 74-and-a-half previous Games. The fact that I was the only one from my "district", or city inside the Capitol, participating, as there are only 12 tributes competing. The fact that we have only one days training, so no one has an advantage over someone else. The fact that there will be no interviews. I know that the people running it, including Katniss Everdeen, who was a victor herself, want to keep it as small and as humane as possible, which isn't very much of either. It must have been terrible, having to face 23 other tributes and, possibly even worse, the fact that the people who I am reluctantly a part of loved this bloodlust and made a CELEBRATION out of it.
I remember watching these Games, year after year. And it was awful. How could anyone enjoy this specimen of inhumanity? Why can't these people compete in these Games and see how fun it is to be the one being brutally murdered, as opposed to watching safely on the sidelines? Well, some of them might be; I don't know who the other tribu-
My heart stops as I realise that the train is slowing down, meaning that I am to get off soon. It's time to meet my fellow tributes -and murderers- and begin training.
