Chapter One

I've just been selected to be District Twelve's female tribute. It's hardly surprising considering how many times my name has gone in in exchange for tesserae, but I didn't think it would actually be me. No one ever really does. There's the fear that it could be you, but never the belief it will be.

I stand on the stage by Effie Trinket. She's oddly dressed, this is her first year and obviously she's very excited about her new job. She has blonde hair tangled up in a nest of curls with a tiny patterned hat balanced precariously on top. Her suit, a dull yellow colour, is made entirely of the same fabric as her hat. She's naturally pretty. Or rather, if she looked like at all natural she would be. She eagerly pulls out the name of the unlucky boy.

"Elix Doffit!" Effie seems to be waiting for applause. Instead Elix, wide eyed and pale, shuffles through the crowd, no applause just silence interrupted only by the odd murmur of consolation. I know him from school, vaguely. He's a thin, gawky lad, my age, seventeen, but taller. I catch his eye as he walks up the steps of the stage, there's something in his eyes, not sadness, panic or fear, but anger. Effie encourages us to shake hands and then we are escorted off stage.

Once we are inside the Justice Building we wait in our separate rooms for our final visitors. I have one. Alanie, she's only thirteen, she's one of the girls I shared a room with at our community home, but she's always looked up to me. It shows how bad our community home must be for her to pick me as a role model. She still has the blue ribbons that I tied into her hair this morning in. At first she smiles at me, but it takes only a moment for it to dissolve away into tears. I open my arms and she clings to me.

"It's ok." I whisper, even though I know it isn't.

I hold her shoulder and crouch down so we're level, "Who brought you here, Alanie? Was it one of the older girls?" She doesn't respond, but looks at the floor, "You came here alone?" I unwittingly allow a tone of amusement to enter my voice. Through her red eyes and sniffling comes a small grin. I hug her again. She came here on her own, that means without permission. A painful thought dawns on me: she must really care about me. In the drive over from the square I managed to shut out Effie's incessant wittering for a minute and I tried to find the positive in this: I'm not leaving anyone behind.

Now I am.

Within an hour we are on the train. Effie tries to make conversation with us, at first I join in; telling her about what life was like in a community home in Twelve. Swiftly she changes the subject asking questions to Elix. He is uncooperative, answering only yes or no until he stands and move to a different seat in the cart. Before Effie can verbalise her outrage there is a loud crash from another cart and the door opens.

"Tributes!"

A tall man, who looks to be in his late twenties, explodes into the room wielding a dark red bottle. He lifts the bottle to his lips and glugs. I immediately notice his features: his eyes, his jawline, his unkempt dark blonde hair, how they all fit together to make quite an attractive product. Then I instantly scold myself, my priorities definitely need reassessing. Effie runs to his side,

"Just the man we need. I don't think you have been formally introduced to our tributes. This-"

"Ah, quiet woman." He now has even Elix's attention, "This woman," he points a swaying finger at Effie, "Bane of my life. Ain't that right?" He swivels unsteadily and lands on the chair beside me.

"Well don't you look pretty? All done up for the Reaping? What's with the…" He gently twists a clump of my hair, "The boy hair?" I just smile at him. I'm used to drunks. Mr Salker, who ran our community home, was quite the alcoholic.

"Are you finished now?" I begin patiently, "Because today hasn't been too great for me so far." I barely get my words out before tears fill my eyes, I look away. I don't want to cry in front of a stranger. He keeps looking at me though. When I manage to compose myself I look up at him. He doesn't say a word. He doesn't try to comfort me. He just holds my gaze a second longer and hands me the bottle. Then he slopes off.

Effie explains how that drunkard is actually Haymitch Abernathy the only victor to come out of District Twelve. She hastily adds a "So far!" and eagerly looks between us. She continues to witter for over an hour before finally leaving us alone. I try to strike up a conversation will Elix, but fail. A few hours later Effie returns and hurries us through to a different cart. By this time I've drank the contents of the red bottle and find moving around a little bit difficult and everything a little bit funny.

We have to go through three carts, each more elaborate than the previous one.

"And here we have the dining cart."

But it isn't just the dining cart. It's extraordinary; unnecessarily extraordinary perhaps. It looks more like a fine restaurant, one that only the President would dine in. There's a row of chandeliers along the middle of the room and a long banquet table beneath them. The food is already piled up on it, more food than I've seen in my lifetime. I don't wait for Effie to finish speaking and Elix is close behind me. I try piling food up on my plate, but soon run out of space. I devour the food on my plate and refill it several times; I've lost any care for propriety. At some point during my feast Haymitch has entered, sat beside me and began eating with a true sense of decorum. I slow to halt when I notice how I have been gorging myself.

"You seem better." Haymitch doesn't look up from his food.

"I took your advice." I only now notice the slight slurring on my speech. He picks up another bottle and offers it to me. I take a moment to consider.

I've seen the effects of alcohol, but that was caused by long term drinking and nothing bad has happened yet.

I don't really want to be intoxicated while surrounded by strangers, but I supposed I don't have long to live.

I pick up a glass, Haymitch pours it out for me and carefully places it back in my hands.

"Are you trying to get me drunk Mr Abernathy?" I giggle profusely. He leans forward, "You already are Miss…?"

"Salker. Dinah Salker." I don't really have a last name. When I was a baby I was found by someone and handed in to the community home, but officially any child without a last name takes on that of the community home owner. However I figure that explaining this would be incredibly difficult at the moment and it would probably upset Effie.

"Well, hello there." He shakes my hand and then turns his attention to Elix. "You." Elix looks up for a moment then continues eating,

"What?"

"Name?"

"Elix."

"Come and find me if you ever decided to stop moping."

Haymitch doesn't get a response. I don't think he expects one. Haymitch stands, his plate is empty but I notice he hasn't eaten much, a few slices of meat at most.

"Well I'm going to bed." I look over to the window, see the darkness and realise it must be nearing midnight. "You two have a big day tomorrow."

He's right, so I stand and make my way to the wrong end of the cart as if to follow Haymitch. Effie hobbles after me, having been in high heels all day they're beginning to have an effect.

"No, no Dinah dear, that's the wrong way." I don't respond I just stop, a little bit out of touch with the world. Effie hooks her bony arm around my shoulders and guides me away, wittering the whole time.

"Oh now don't be embarrassed, dear. It's very easy to get turned around here. Here you go, now through the door. Oh dear, if you're going to be drinking you might as well drink better quality alcohol. Oh and dear, about that," We made it to my bunk, "I don't think it's wise for you to drink yourself into such a state. You are a tribute now, all eyes of the Capitol will be watching you and dear, your actions reflect against both District Twelve and all of its representatives, including myself. I can understand that you must be excited by the day's events, and of course how glamorous this train must seem, but really this isn't the way to celebrate. Do you understand me, dear?"

I pull myself up on the bed.

"No, frankly you don't seem to know what you're talking about, so how do you expect me to understand when you're talking absolute nonsense?" I know Effie means well and I mean no offense, but she really is clueless, "I mean, how would you feel if you'd been plucked from your home and now destined to have to kill children to survive?"

I don't think anyone has ever spoken of the Hunger Games in such a blunt way before, not to Effie at least. At first she looks stunned, but she shakes her head and she's smiling again.

"Sleep. That's what you need, well I'll let you rest. We reach the Capitol early tomorrow. Goodnight!" She closes the door and I'm alone.

I don't sleep, I lie in uncomfortable warmth, waiting for the sun to rise. Waiting for the Capitol to appear at my window.