Gilbert Cobb
"Good morning, tributes! Get up, you all have a colossal day ahead of you!" An ear-piercingly irritating screech wakes me up.
Where am I?
I run my fingers through the rough carpet that I apparently spent the night on. My back is giving me agony and my neck is so stiff, it feels like my head could fall off any second.
I glare around at the curious room that I've found myself in, it's covered from wall to wall in beautiful abstract paintings with two beds at either side. The paintings wobble around as the room vibrates, am I on a ship?
I pull myself off of the ground and hurry to a small tainted glass window to the side of the room. I'm trying to make out what is beyond the tinted material as I realise; I'm on a train. I explore my chamber further, poking at the works of art that loosely dangles on the walls around me, until I notice that I'm not alone in the room.
A young girl is lying face-down on the rug, with miles of straight, dark brown hair draped over her head. She could be dead. I cautiously crouch down beside the girl and jab at her side with my index finger.
The girl gasps as she sits up straight, her hair hanging in front of her face. She must have had night terrors.
"Are you okay?" I ask, trying to calm the small girl.
The young woman brushes a tangled clump of hair out of her face and reveals a pair of glistening blue eyes. And that's when I realise...
This girl is my sister, and we're travelling somewhere against our permission right now.
Amanda Frazier
I grab my glass eye off of the floor, dust it off and push it back into it's socket. That pesky thing has been giving me trouble ever since my mother gave it to me as a birthday present.
I struggle to get onto my feet before I notice a sparkling figure sitting on the bed beside me.
"Hey, looks like we'll be sharing a cabin!" He greets me, excitedly.
"Sorry, but who are you?" I ask, trying not to sound too rude.
"I'm Randall, pleasure to meet you." He says with a toothy grin whilst extending his arm out in offer of a handshake.
I reach my hand out and grab his.
"... What's going on here?" I question, looking around at the shaking chamber around us both.
"I think we've been carted away to some form of luxurious travelling holiday in our slumber, what an excellent surprise!" The green-haired boy replies excitedly.
That's far from the truth, I know exactly where we're going. We're being carted off to that grimy training centre to prepare for our inevitable deaths.
"So what's this all about?" Asks the odd boy, raising a finger to point at my glass eye.
I slap his hand away. I get asked this question every day of my life. I sigh and give the curious child an answer.
"I was attacked by a cobra when I was a toddler, I managed to fend it off somehow, but it took my eye with it." I reply, looking down at the floor with my remaining eye.
The boy sat in shock for a while before opening his glossy lips once again.
"I have a feeling we're going to get along swell." He says, with an unconvincing smile plastered across his porcelain cheeks.
Denise King
Waking up with that gorgeous boy has been a dream of mine ever since I first arrived at the Capitol's school, Malcolm Snyder is most definitely a sight for sore eyes; the way he lies beside me, his jet black hair gelled back to resemble a perky little duck's tail, his tall and chiselled figure, and not to mention the ashy circles of mystery that reside in his eyes.
Oh no he's waking up, I need to look occupied.
I turn to face a beautiful illustration on the cabin wall behind me, whilst fondling with a small lock of my wavy, blood red hair.
The boy grunts as he pushes himself up into a stable stance. He clears his throat to get my attention, but I'm not that easily swayed.
I continue to pretend to be captivated by the meaningless artwork ahead of me, but it's nothing but colours and lazy brush strokes in my opinion. The boy taps me on one shoulder and I spin around to face him.
"Did you want something?" I ask, biting my lip.
Oh what am I doing, he'll think that I like him. I need to look seriously underwhelmed by whatever words leave his perfectly formed lips. He opens his mouth to say something but is soon cut off by the frustrating pipes of Effie Trinket.
"Children, I'm trying to keep my anger contained but your expensive breakfasts are losing heat!" She squeaks.
"We should probably move, you know what that woman's capable of." Malcolm whispers in my ear.
He holds our cabin door open for me and ushers me out into the hallway. Maybe dying in an arena full of my old classmates won't be so bad after all.
Lois Poole
I'm so glad to be out of that compact little room. I couldn't last five more seconds with that sexist little mongrel. Let's just say once my podium raises me into whatever landscape the game makers decide to throw at us, I know who I'm going for; Vincent Griffith. He should know by now that I'm not attracted to guys like him, or any guys at all. I'm a lesbian, and I stopped being afraid of that fact as soon as I learned to accept myself, and I suggest that everybody else on this train gets used to me, because I'm ready to spark a few fires.
I sit myself down at a table in the corner of the dining room, I don't want to be getting too attached to any of these kids, you can only trust yourself in a bloodsport like this.
I'm presented with cutlery formed out of what I assume is pure gold, what a sensible purchase the Capitol must have made with the money of their district scum.
Once all students are seated at their tables, Effie Trinket gently taps her wine glass with a golden fork and stands tall in her shimmering pink heels. What a poser.
"You all survived the night, fantastic!" Effie scoffs.
The dining room is in a tense silence.
Effie clears her throat and continues; "So, right now we're on our way to the Capitol's training centre! Once we turn up at our destination, You will all trot off to your separate sleeping chambers and prepare for the night ahead, as we've got a parade for our lovely Capitol citizens in approximately twelve hours! I'm guessing that you're all anxiously awaiting the revelation of your tribute outfits for this year's games. Well, here they are!"
As Effie finishes, a peace keeper wheels in a rack of ragged old pieces of cloth and pieces of potato sacks all poorly stitched together, each with a number from one to twelve painted on the torso. Irritated grunts and sighs fill the room. It looks like these spoilt children aren't used to being treated like district people, it should be an interesting experience for us all.
"As none of you have arrived from districts this time around, you will be partnered with whichever pupil you happened to wake up next to this morning!" Effie squeals. "Now, everyone step up and grab your respective outfits once I've called out your cabin number."
"Cabin Number One: Malcolm Snyder and Denise King!" Effie exclaims, holding out two pathetic sacks of material with the number one printed on the fronts on them both.
Two tall students stand up and stride to the front of the room to receive their outfits, then return to their cabins to get changed. Looks like the first team could be a challenge to take down.
"Cabin Number Two: Edmund Harper and Katie Sutton!" Effie yells again.
A rat-faced girl with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail that has it's tips dyed turquoise stands up and grabs her costume with her cabin number sprayed across the chest, before skipping back to her sleeping quarters, followed by a boy with grey hair that has been slicked back over his scalp.
"Cabin Number Three: Harold Dunn and April Garrett!" Effie says, already growing weary of her own squeaks.
Two shaking teenagers grab their despicable outfits and rush to the third cabin across the corridor.
"Cabin Number Four: Vincent Griffith and Lois Poole!" Chants Ms. Trinket.
I almost forgot that I had been paired with that awful boy. I can't murder my own team mate in the games, I'm going to have to change my tactics.
I scoot behind Vincent as we collect our clothes and return to our room. This is the worst day of my life.
Susan Townsend
These outfits don't look any different from the clothes that I wore as a child. I'm still not sure how my family managed to sneak into the Capitol undetected, but leaving District twelve was the best decision that we've ever made, or so it seemed until yesterday, of course.
Now I'm being transported to a training centre where I will try my hardest to learn anything from the equipment that they'll have there, the only useful information I know is from a book of herbal remedies that my father picked up for me back in our home town, I've read that book about twenty times over now and I've memorised some key medicines that might be able to help me in these games... But I know nothing at all about fighting, or if I even have it in me to murder a child.
I look down at my partner as Effie Trinket calls out the names of the remaining teams. I think this little boy's name is Wesley, and it's my duty to make sure he's safe in the arena. But how am I expected to preserve another life when I'll barely be able to save my own.
The competition is tough this year. One of the teams that was just issued their outfits consists of a very large girl, her name is Olga and she looks far too old to even be attending the games. She has arms of steel and a body built like a stubborn tree trunk. Her hair hangs down in thick blonde ringlets that dangle in front of her bold dark eyebrows, like fat slugs crawling across her forehead.
"Cabin Number Eleven: Randall Manning and Amanda Frazier." Effie was now sounding quite bored.
An extravagant young man with green hair tutted as he collected his outfit and scampered off to his compartment, as a tall girl with dark skin and her hair tied up in a stable bun trailed behind him, costume in hand. I think that girl had a golf ball in her eye socket.
"And last but certainly not least, Cabin Number Twelve: Wesley Latimer and Susan Townsend!" Effie said, as she threw us our costumes and hurried us along to our room.
I turned to look at Wesley as we changed into our arena attire. His hair was knotty and long, his face stained with small patches of dried mud. Why did this boy's parents let him leave the house looking such a mess?
The tiny boy glanced to see me staring at him in confusion.
"Hey, no peeking!" He yelled playfully.
I think I like my new team mate.
Valerie Howell
The rags that I'm suited with stink of dirt and livestock, but they fit me well and really compliment my ample posterior.
Felix looks dashing in his rags too, they barely fit him, but who's complaining. I kiss him on the cheek and we exit our cabin to rejoin the rest of the tributes in the dining room. I sit next to a girl with fiery red hair that is cut short to her shoulders, and her hazel eyes reflect the light that is let in by an open window on the train.
She turns to look at me and smiles. This girl is going to be forced into an arena with me and is expected to rip my throat out, but she just looks so content about it all.
"Hey, I'm Lois." She says, signalling a polite wave to Felix and I.
"Nice to meet you! I'm-" My reply is abruptly interrupted by Felix.
"Back off, freak, this girl's mine." Felix snaps.
The girl gives him a stern look and turns to face Effie. I'm shocked, Felix is normally so chivalrous, are the games having an affect on him already?
"Oh don't you all look so... Different in your battle armour!" Effie taunts.
"It's barely armour." Sighed a girl with straight white hair that obstructed my view of her face.
"Quiet down Helen, I have news for you all!" Effie alerts us. "We've almost arrived at the centre now. You all must be on your best behaviour if you want to achieve support from the hearts of the Capitol citizens! These people are here to watch you all and decide on their champion tonight, and you children need to show them that you can be brave and presentable to earn their sponsors!"
"So when do we get into out chariots?" Asks a green-haired boy that is sat in front of Effie, it looks as if he's coloured in his rags with a green felt-tip pen.
Effie giggles. "Oh I forgot to mention, tributes will not have chariots for tonight's event, as we feel that you youngsters have had enough luxury for the majority of your lives; therefore, we have arranged to have you all do a lap of the presentation ring shoeless whilst the audience pelts you with various items of fruit. Oh look we're at the centre! Come on everybody, off the train. It's dinner time!"
I think we've all given up trying to reason with Effie Trinket, as the twenty-four of us trudge off of the train and make our way to the centre.