It's a foggy day when I leave for District Twelve. My bags are packed with more than enough clothes for the day long trip. My parents are often worriers, and the only way to convince themselves that I'll be fine is to pack me more than enough of pretty much everything. I try not lot let it show, but I've been worried as well. I've heard that District Twelve is dangerous. It's poor and dirty, and no one has ever won. I sigh as I board the speed train and take a seat near a window. Well, if Twelve really is that poor and underprivileged, then they really will be in for a treat, coming to the Capitol. And I did want to share the beauty of my home, so what better place to start than with the country's poor? I'm really doing them a favor.

I wake up the next morning feeling less than refreshed. Even though the train has beds and all the comforts one could expect, I stayed up Most of the night, first with excitement, then worry. This is my first trip anywhere by myself. And to District Twelve, of all places! This district must be the farthest away from the Capitol. After eating some pale cracker for breakfast, I check my watch. I only have twenty five minutes until I get to District Twelve, so I'd better get ready. I pull out the schedule that Gareth Silversmith had given me. The first point is 'Board the train'. Well, I've finished that. Next is 'Ride the train', then 'Exit the train.' Well, he must be very detail oriented. I think I would know to get of the train! The next step of actual importance is 'Meet with the mayor.' I'm supposed to meet him at the Justice Building in District Twelve. I don't know where it is, but fortunately Mr. Silversmith has included a map. The building in the picture is very shabby looking. Surely that cannot be the Justice Building? It's some sort of faded stone, not even marble, and there are black streaks all down one side. Well, I suppose they have to make do, seeing as all they do is mine coal. I don't think anyone even uses coal anymore. At least not in the Capitol.

The train stops at precisely 8:25 am. The reaping isn't until midday, so I wonder why I'm here so early. Perhaps they need someone to help set up.

The train doors open, and the first thing that hits me is the smell. There's something rotting nearby. The air has a sooty tinge to it. Taking a reluctant breath, the repulsive air moves deeper into my lungs and I have a very undignified coughing fit. Shaking my head, I step out of the train and head for the Justice Building, glancing at the map every so often. How can people stand to live in a place like this? As I walk, I feel eyes following me, and I feel foolish in my Capitol clothes. Back home, my outfit would be normal, plain even, but here my bright green and teal dress and platform boots looks out of place. Maybe even ridiculous. I shake my head and curl my hair behind my ear. I do not look ridiculous. These people just don't have the privileges I do.

A couple poorly made streets onward, I realize I must have taken a wrong turn. According to the map, I should be directly in front of the Justice Building. However, I don't see anything of the sort. To my right is a plain brown house with a small patch of mud in the front. I see a flash of white fur- a goat- through the one window. Goodness, the people who live here are strange. I would never keep a goat as a pet. On the other side of the road is another house. This one is in much worse condition. The roof is corrugated metal, rusty in parts. There are logs propping up one of the walls.

I spin around and backtrack the way I came. However, looking for where I turned the wrong way, all I see is smaller paths leading off. I don't think I made a wrong turn, but if I've been going the right way, then that must mean the map is wrong. I brush the poof of hair behind my ear again. Where could I turn that would get me to my destination? I backtrack all the way to the train and follow the map again, but it leads me to the same place. I clutch the map tightly, even though I'm sure it's wrong. I have to face it. I'm completely lost.

The only way I'll be able to find the Justice Building is to ask someone, but I'm worried how the people here will react. I've only seen one person walking by, and he didn't look very friendly. But I am on a schedule, I remind myself. I check the piece of paper. I should be at the Justice Building by 9:00. Looking at the time, I discover that it is only 8:40. Good. I still have time. I keep following the main road in hopes that it will lead the right way and I won't have to ask anyone for directions. I have no such luck. This road continues on down toward a mountain, obviously not the direction of the Justice Building.

I take a deep breath and choose a house that doesn't seem too shabby. Maybe if the house is nice, the people will be nice as well. I walk over, but stop. I don't know whether I should knock. Maybe the people are sleeping still, and they'd be angry if I woke them up. I shudder at the thought of being chased by a nasty man with a shovel. Cautiously, I look around at the outside of the house. There's no light coming from the window. I look for a different house. This one is also dark. It occurs to me that the people might not even be in the houses, and thats why no lights are on. Well. I suppose I'll have to try sometime today. Taking another deep breath, I brush my hair behind my ear and knock on the door. No answer. I wait a few minutes before moving on to the next house, because if the owner of the house opens the door and sees no one, they probably won't be very pleased.

The door opens after what seems like an hour.
"Yes?" says a woman in a faded blue dress. I notice her eyes tracing over my clothes. Sh wrinkles her nose. Obviously she doesn't think much of us citizens from the Capitol.
"You're the escort, aren't you," she says. "I can tell."
"Yes," I reply. "Do you know the directions to get to the Justice Building?"
The woman sighs. Leaning against the door frame, she points to the road.
"Go back and to your right," she tells me. "You need to take the third path down. It has a big rock outside the front."
"Thank you," I say and turn to leave. The woman suddenly reaches out and catches me by the arm. I freeze. This is exactly what I was afraid of. However, she doesn't mean harm.
"Just, please, don't pick my boy," she begs. "He's too young."
I nod. "I'll try."

00000

The Justice Building looks worse in real life. Though there must have been designs carved on the walls at one point, now every trace has been worn away. The town square isn't that impressive either. It's just some packed down dirt. As I make my way across it, I have to snake around patches of mud. I can't risk getting these shoes dirty.

The mayor, Tom Mallohop, is waiting for me inside the building. I introduce myself as Effie Trinket, no 'Evelyn' this time. I've already got this job, I don't need to sound businesslike.
"Why am I here so early?" is the first thing I ask.
"You just need to go over some documents that have to do with your job as escort," he says. "You are new, correct?" I nod while trying to hide my dismay. He is very stiff and formal, which is normally good, but on him it doesn't fit. This feels like an act he's trying to put on. Maybe he's just uncomfortable meeting someone from the Capitol, I tell myself.

As I go over the documents with the mayor, I realize what is so weird about him. The people in the Capitol are all so cheerful, even when they are acting formal. The mayor, on the other hand, doesn't seem happy at all. Maybe it's something in the air.

The documents are finished in no time, which leaves me wondering what I'm supposed to do. It's 9:30. I check the schedule, but 9:30 is listed as 'Sign Documents'.
"Umm, is there something I'm supposed to be doing?"
The Mayor looks up from some paper he was working on.
"Well," he tells me, "you can go find Haymitch. He'll need to be here for the reaping."

Haymitch, it turns out, is the only victor of District Twelve. He'll be the mentor of this year's tributes. This time, my map is correct in leading to his home, in Victors Village. I wonder what he'll be like. He must be pretty tough to have won. I think he was the winner of the second Quarter Quell, even. Then again, not everyone who wins stays ... normal. Victors go crazy all the time. I find it strange. Once they're famous, and have everything they could possibly need, they just go mad, or something. Maybe they don't like the attention.

I get to the only occupied house in Victors Village and knock on the door. No answer. The people in District Twelve must hate to answer their doors. Just as I'm about to turn away, the door bangs open. The man is very obviously drunk. He's swaying on his feet, and he has a bottle of something in his hand. In his other hand is a knife. I shriek and jump backward, stumbling on the uneven ground. I manage to catch myself before I hit the dirt. Shamefacedly, I get to my feet. The hand I used to break my fall has a red scrape across the palm. Small droplets of blood are pooling where a small rock is embedded. I straighten my skirt with my unharmed hand before gently brushing the rock out. Looking up, I notice that Haymitch is still watching me, knife lowered.
"You the new escort?" he says. "What do you want?"
"Well, apparently you're supposed to be present at the Reaping," I say as crisply as I can to make up for my ungainly stumble. "You'll need to get ready."
"Listen," Haymitch replies. "I know how to deal with myself. I really don't need some little girl to be my alarm clock." He turns and goes back into his house, slamming the door behind him. I shudder. He certainly wont be a good mentor for this year's tributes. They need to learn, and Haymitch seems to be incapable of teaching anything.

00000

12:00- The Reaping. The mayor gives a brief speech about the Hunger Games and the Capitol. Funny. He doesn't sound very enthusiastic. Doesn't he know that the games are a chance for honor in each district? Well, maybe he's bitter that District Twelve hasn't won more often.

The mayor doesn't introduce me after his speech, but I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to speak next. No one protests as I walk to the microphone.
"Hello," I say, then freeze. I never went over my speech. Stumbling for something to say, I come out with the same phrase everyone uses: "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor." There is an awkward silence as no one claps. I feel like I should say something to fill the pause, so I introduce myself.
"Hello, I'm Effie Trinket, your new district escort." I smile at a field of blank faces and walk over to the girls' Reaping Ball. "Ladies first," I say brightly. It's rather unnerving how unresponsive everyone is. I reach into the big glass container with my left hand, the one that isn't scraped. Pulling out the slip of paper, I squint to read the name printed on it. "Karaley Patton." A slightly narrow faced girl sighs and slumps her way upstage. I greet her into the microphone. "And how old are you?"
"Fifteen," she answers. I smile at her, hopefully to reassure her, then head for the other Ball.
"And the boys' tribute is," I say as I open the second paper, "James Winward." I hear a gasp as the crowd of people push a shaking little boy forward. "And how old are you?" I ask him. He has to stand on his toes to reach the microphone. "Twelve," he says nervously.

As we turn to go into the Justice Building, I hear someone begin to scream. Turning back to look, I see that it is the mother who I had asked for directions.
"You promised!" she shouts. "you said you wouldn't pick him!" I turn away as a group of Peacekeepers surround her. They'll calm her down enough so she can say her goodbyes.

While the new tributes are escorted to say their separate goodbyes, I consider going to find Haymitch. I decide against it, though. I really don't need another fall in the dirt. My hand is still sore.

I needn't have worried about Haymitch. After I've showed Karaley and James where their rooms are, I find him in the bar car. Typical. I ignore him and go sit somewhere else, casually inspecting my slowly healing hand. Tomorrow we will reach the Capitol. And I can't wait to show off my home.