After living in a run-down house where everything is second hand, and being born in a sap and saw-dust covered district, the train takes my breath away. I look around and see light blue couches by the windows. It looks less like a train and more like a sitting room. I slide across the shiny wooden floor to the other side of the room and catch myself on the wall.

"What are you doing?" Chauncey asks, raising his eyebrows from where he sits on one of the couches, looking bored. I shrug and sit across from him. "So do the couches pull out and become beds or something?" I wonder aloud, investigating the one I'm seated on.

"We're going to be sleeping here?" he screeches as a peacekeeper walks into the room. "I CAN'T SLEEP ON A COUCH!" He rounds on her, "Do you think I'm from the 12th district or something?" She looks at him, puzzled. "Of course not. You each have your own quarters containing a bedroom and a washroom. As well as many dinning rooms."

"Oh, whew." Chauncey sighs with relief. I just gawk at her, dumbfounded. This was very different from the lumber train I was expecting. "There is already a meal prepared in the next room." The peacekeeper says, nodding at the other tributes who I realize have boarded.

I instantly jump up, knowing all to well I haven't eaten anything all day today or yesterday. Chauncey gives out a snort of laughter. "Fatty." He says, sticking out his tongue. I stick mine out in reply, then gladly follow the peacekeeper into the next room.

I soon realize that tributes are treated as well as Capitol citizens. The food is all rich and delicious, and everywhere in the train as well-kept as the rest. Even my wardrobe is packed with clothes I find as I investigate my room later that day. There is even my own bathroom, complete with a large exquisite bath tub big enough for me to lie down it. After showering in hot water for the first time in my life, I change into a large silky white gown I find in one of the drawers.

Slipping into the large bed I'm surprised it's a lot less comfortable then it looks. After awhile of tossing and turning I realize why. This is not the bed Asyga filled with frogs when Sylias was convinced they were sad sleeping outside and let a dozen loose in the house. This is not the bed Anyia climbs into when she has nightmares. This is not where I laid the time I had a fever, and Luna made me a breakfast-in-bed despite the fact we had no food so she just made something awful she called pine-cone-soup.

Trying to hold my tears back, I think of something else. There is no point getting sad about this, I should try to enjoy everything and keep my head held high until the slaughtering comes. If my life is going to end soon, I want to make the most of it.

I wake up the next day to sunshine blaring in from the window. I crawl out of the messed up bed and stumble across to the door. It isn't until I walk out into the hallway do I realize I should probably get dressed. Going back into the room I change into a fancy red skirt and matching top.

Every one except Chek is wide awake and eating breakfast. I'm about to sit by a well-dressed man with a large scar across his face next to Vireo until I hear a bit of their conversation. "…it's better to stab someone, bashing in their head is a big problem because it leaves you covered in blood…"

Not interested in hearing this man talk about how to kill people, I sit by Chauncey who is stuffing his face with a large frosted cake. "Good morning." I say, stacking bacon on my plate. "Nlut entraustar en muuufff?" he asks me, spitting cake on my face. "What?" I ask, whipping my face off with my sleeve. "Not interested in hearing Mr. Murder talk about how he used to bash in heads back in his day?" Chauncey asks.

I look back at the man with more interest, noticing now how familiar he is. Winning the games about 13 years back at the age of 17, Jacob Davenport is definitely the showcase of District 7's victors. We currently have 5, Adara Leizer young, pretty, and sadly insane. Comac Alms would probably be popular if he wasn't so grouchy and actually brushed his hair, and Lylax Jennebera is neither pretty nor young. Then there's Jotham Freestone who's very large build isn't as favorable to the Capitol's as Jacob Davenport's well-toned one.

I have never seen any of them other than on TV, and sometimes I catch a glimpse of them on stage at the reaping, but I'm usually to nervous to notice. Investigating Jacob closer I realize he isn't as handsome as many claim him to be, with choppy black hair and unforgiving dark hazel eyes. I look around and see two of the others there, Lylax Jennebera and Jotham Freestone are also seated at the table.

"That guy is so irritating." Chauncey mumbles. "He dresses sooo… ugh." I'm surprised that's his only complaint, as Jacob is well known for pretending to be nice to lots of tributes, allying with them, then bashing their head in during their sleep. "Speaking of mentors, shouldn't you be talking to yours dummy?" Chauncey asks. "Who's my mentor?" I ask, feeling sheepish for not knowing. "You don't know? Someone's stupid~" He says in a sing-song voice. "It's Jotham, fatty."

I get up and grab my plate. "You're a lot nicer on TV." I say. Chauncey laughs. "I don't get paid for being nice off-stage stupid head." He replies. "How old are you?" I ask. If I couldn't see him I'd guess six. "Twenehm." He answers, forking more cake into his mouth. I'm guessing he said twenty.

I sit by Jotham and suddenly feel very uncomfortable under his agitated gaze. "Hello" I mumble. "I'm Flicker Lexington, you're my mentor right?" He nods. "Yes, I know who you are. And I know what you are, not much to work with."

"I'm not exactly useless," I retort, irritated. I thought mentors were supposed to believe in you? "I can run pretty fast. I'm used to not eating. I can climb trees really well, and I'm very handy with rope." A smirk comes across his face and he slaps me across the back. "Glad to hear it, I won't be training no fragile damsels, got it?" I return his smile and give a determined nod.

"So, you good with axes?" he asks. "Oh…no… I've actually never used one. It's my job climb trees and tie rope around them before their pulled and stuff." I mumble nervously hoping this doesn't deem me as a 'fragile damsel'. He shrugs and goes back to his food. "Did you see the other reapings?" he asks, he shoots a glare at Chauncey after I shake my head. "Whumeff eel duh eett lootar." He grumbles with a mouth full of cake. "Let's watch them now." Jotham says, picking up his plate and walking off. I pick up my plate too. "Oh and put some more meat on that," Jotham orders. "I want you to gain 20 pounds before we get off this train."

I put another slab of meat, and a slice of cake on for good measure hoping I can hold all this food down. My diet is of one small meal a day, including rice, sometimes bread, and often some sort of vegetable. If I'm lucky. Sometimes the kids I sit with at lunch pass me a slice of cheese, if they are lucky enough to have food themselves. Clara often gives me something too. I hate feeling like a charity case but I gladly except, as I often find myself pushing my plate towards my much thinner little siblings.

I seat myself besides Jotham and he turns on the large TV, with the clearest screen I have ever seen. The house doesn't have a TV so when viewing something is mandatory we have to watch it on the large fuzzy screens in the Town Square. "Study them." Jotham advises. "See their weaknesses, asses their value." I feel awful sizing these kids up like a piece of meat, but if I want to win this I need to swallow my morals.

I try my best to remember each name, face, and how strong they look. A few stand out to me. A ridiculously photogenic pair of careers from 1, a deaf boy who volunteers to be with his sister in 3, a girl with incredibly long hair from 4, a small young girl in 8, a very tall girl with purple eyes in 9, and the usual starved children from 12. At my own reaping I look bored and annoyed, like I'm just waiting for it to get over while my cheek continues to bleed. I ask Jotham if this a good thing and he just shrugs. "Hey it's your stylist's job to present your personality, it's my job to present your strengths."

"What are the stylists like?" I inquire. "Annoying as hell." He replies. "Dress you up in the ugliest things, but just trust them. It may look awful but the Capitol likes that stuff." I think about the other games I've seen and the way the tributes looked. "Being naked and smeared with coal is fashionable there?" I ask. "Well…" Jotham says. "Sometimes they make you fashionable and sometimes they just seem to want to humiliate your district."

We spend the rest of the day talking about strategies and what I need to do. He tries his best, but I don't think Jotham is quite sure what to do with me. "Your strength is your most valuable asset in battle," He absent mindedly informed me once. "You need to use your weight and strength when confronted with other tributes." I reminded him I weighed about 100 pounds less than him. "Oh, right." Jotham mumbled. "Well…I guess we'll need a new strategy."

Jotham won the games about 30 years back because of his strength and battle skills, so I guess that's what he usually mentors based on that. He seems better off with someone like Vireo, but I don't dare say this aloud in case he realizes it and decides me and my 102 pounds aren't worth the effort to train. I don't want to get stuck with a mentor like Jacob Davenport, who won because of his awful ways. In all the clips I've seen of him killing the other tributes, he was always laughing.

As for Lylax Jennebera she seems very motherly of Chek who barely comes out of his room. Lylax Jennebera probably wouldn't be the best mentor for me either though, as is very clever and won the games because she set lots of elaborate traps which I don't think I could pull off. I think of our other victors. Comac Alms who won because almost every single tribute died in the blood bath when he had the sense to run. And then Adara Leizer, who had many admirers because of her beauty and giggly personality. She had so many sponsors that everyone wanted to be her ally.

She was thriving in the games until her allies slowly died one by one. Her strategy then turned to hiding, and she ended up lost in a tunnel underground, filled with millions of spiders that crawled all over her body and slithered into her mouth and ears when she slept. Adara slowly started dying of starvation, unable to receive anything from her sponsors while underground. By the time the last few tributes had killed each other above her, she had begun to eat her own flesh.

When the Capitol collected their victor, she was a bloody mess with spiders inside her self-inflicted wounds. They managed to fix everything but her mind, which seemed broken beyond repair. She is constantly under watch in her house in the Victor's Village, never leaving it except for when she has too for interviews or the reaping. She seems to be getting better now except for the fact she always talks as though she still has a mouth crawling with spiders, and sometimes she scratches her own arms until they're so raw and bleeding that someone has to force her to stop.

I cringe remembering watching the games and feeling like crying every time they showed her underground, scared and alone. I was only nine when I saw it, but viewing the games is required. Jotham notices my distressed face. "Wow! Look at the time!" he calls out. I look up at the golden clock and see we have been talking almost all day, as it is now seven o'clock.

After a long dinner in which I kept trying to excuse myself from while Jotham continued to shovel pork onto my plate, I finally went so sleep.

There was this old nightmare I always used to have before the reaping. I would stand in the middle of the forest, while all the trees slowly died, blood pouring out of each one.

The trees couldn't talk but I could still hear them screaming. I kept asking them over and over again why this was happening, and finally two words were said in response. The Games. Then the old Capitol escort that was at the reapings before we got Chauncey two years ago would walk up to me. "Flicker Lexington" She would call out. I would protest, saying I wasn't twelve yet, that she didn't even pull my name, that she couldn't take me. But she'd just keep on smiling blankly and never listen. She would take my by my hands and drag me into a clearing of the forest, the entire ground covered in ash.

"Good luck~" she'd sing and then disappear. I would wander around the clearing until I hear someone sobbing. I'd search for the source of the noise. Then I found a little girl, curled up into a ball and crying, rocking back and forth. I would reach out my hand to help her, but suddenly notice I was holding a long knife, dripping with blood. I'd look back to the girl, horrified, and see I had stabbed her.

"I didn't mean to!" I scream. Suddenly there's a hand on my shoulder. I look up and see Sunshine, smiling broadly.

I eventually stopped having this nightmare until it returned again tonight. It was different though, more vivid, more blood. I am still reaped by the same woman, but it's Adara crying in the clearing this time. And instead of stabbing her I grab a rock, bashing into her skull. I don't want to but I just keep laughing and laughing while she screams and spiders crawl out of her mouth.

By the time she is dead her face is bashed beyond recognition. I stand over her body, smiling a twisted smiling covered in her blood. I blink and the body belongs to Twilight. I stop laughing, but the noise still continues. I whip my head around to find the source and see Sunshine step out of shadows, giggling. More laughing comes, and this time it's from Jacob Davenport. I put my hands over my ears. "Stop!" I scream over and over again but they just get louder and louder until it pounds against my head and blood begins to flow from my ears.

"Good Luck~" The escort sings, the noise all around me. "STOP!" I screech, blood welling up in my own mouth. In a second it's over and I'm awake, clutching my heart and panting. I slowly get out of the bed with trembling legs and fumble around in the dark until I find the bathroom. I turn on the light and give a little jump when I see myself in the mirror. I look like a ghost. A wide-eyed, trembling ghost.

I wash my face in the sink and then look at my reflection again. "You are not that scared little girl anymore," I tell myself firmly. "You grew up." My reflection shakes her and whispers, "We both know that's not true Flicker." She smiles sadly. I wonder if I'm still dreaming as I crawl back into the bed. But suddenly the bed feels a lot less safe. I take the pillows and the thick warm blanket and go back into the bathroom. I place the bedding in the tub and then slip into it.

I dream a much odder, but much less frightening, dream. I'm flying through the sky, riding a fish. At first our conversation is awkward and very quiet with hardly anything said, but then the fish remembers it has something it important to tell me. What is was I never know as it begins talking so fast I don't understand a word of it. The fish's voice becomes very high and squeaky while it continues to ramble on and on, and doesn't stop until six days later.

"I have so many things to tell you," The fish says happily, at a normal pace. "We have barely any time though. Oh no what to do?" It almost sounds as though it is talking in slow motion compared to its previous pace. "Grow more mouths?" I say sarcastically, suddenly regretting it. "That's a GREAT idea Flicker!" It chirps. Suddenly the fish grows several extra heads, all of them talking as high-pitched and fast as the first. The sound overlaps horribly, and I think now is a good time to jump off, even if it means no more free movement of my lower body. I look around for a place to land and notice we are flying over a stream and straight into that big waterfall-

"CHAUNCEY!" I scream, waking up with a gasp as the freezing water drenches my body. My eyes can't quite come in to focus yet but I know it was him. I quickly mess around with the various taps until I turn it off, shivering. "Why won't anyone wake me up nicely?" I wail. "Just yesterday Anyia and Asyga-" I stop. Was it just yesterday? The memory feels very distant, like something I just saw on TV a long time ago. "You didn't wake up... and I didn't want to touch you…ugh…" He says. I throw my sopping wet pillow at him. "How did you even get in here?" I ask. "Asked for the key, Jotham told me to go wake you up. He is sooo bossy. Why are you sleeping in the bath tub crazy?"

Suddenly I realize I am sleeping in a tub and feel embarrassed. "It's so I can take a shower first thing I when wake up. Now get out unless you want to see me naked." I hiss. His eye twitches and he runs out, slamming the door behind him. I do take a quick and very warm shower then go look for clothes to change into.

"You wanted me?" I ask Jotham a few minutes later, rubbing my eyes. "We're gonna be at the Capitol in an hour or so. You gained your 20 pounds yet?" he says, grabbing me a plate and filling it with steak. "No more food!" I moan. "I'm sure I've gained 100 pounds by now." He just sticks the plate in my face. Reluctantly I begin to eat. "I'm probably going to barf up 20 pounds by the time we get off this train." I mutter.

"The arena makes you loose them pounds." He says, shoveling yet more food on my plate when I finish. "If you fat enough you can just keep lasting. So eat!" Chauncey snickers. "Oh she's going to last. Trust me." He says. "See? Chauncey already thinks I'm fat. Isn't that enough?" I grumble. "Last plate okay? And when training starts you can eat however much you want because you're gonna be hungry and eat lots anyway."

I slowly eat the next plate of food, thankfully it's a salad this time and not more meat. I stare out the window dreamily, whishing I could just jump out of it and go live in the wild by myself. I watch the inside of the long tunnel were in, imagining learning how to talk to animals and starting my own society with them.

I feel drowsy and tired from all food. My eyes begin to flutter shut when all of a sudden they snap open as the train pulls into it. The Capitol. Everything is so grotesquely bright and artificial I think, viewing all the strange looking people I've seen on TV. With their modified bodies and odd fashions. Chauncey runs to the window. "Ha ha! I missed this place!" he cheers, even though he's only been gone for about two days.

"Come look fatty!" He says, beckoning me to him. I walk over and lean outside the window beside him. "See? Isn't this so much better than your ugly little towns?" Chauncey asks, sighing in admiration at his city. "Isn't it the most beautiful thing in the world?"

I wrinkle my nose in disgust at this shiny artificial place, thinking of the long walks Twilight and I used to take into the forest to get water from the well. Deep in the forest, where not everything is a forced grown pine tree, but beautiful old oaks and maples with flowery vines wrapped around them. It is about a three mile round trip to get to the well, and hard work lugging the water jugs back. But it's worth it to spend time out there, which I haven't had lately between work, school, and chores.

"Have you ever climbed a tree barefoot?" I ask, equally dreamy thinking of my favorite tree. A hundred foot tall one right by the well I always climbed when the water jugs were filling. One sleepless night I slipped out and climbed all the way to the top, and just waited till the sun rose, watching the stars.

It's moments like that I wish I could share with someone else, not alone, not even with my siblings. I always feel lonely when I wish for that though, because I don't really have a friend I'd like to share that with. The shy kids I sit with at school have never worked because their parents made enough, so I doubt they've even been in the forest. Let alone spent the night a hundred feet up in a tree. They'd probably just whine they were cold instead of enjoying the unearthly feeling. Like I could almost touch the sky and pull myself out of this world, if only I could reach out a few more inches.

He rolls his eyes. "Why would I ever want to do something like that?" I remember I've asked him the question. "Chauncey if I win the games I'm going to force you to climb a tree." I say, giggling at the idea of him in nature, without his precious ten inch heels. "Ew, no. And you will get out, I heard whales can survive a long time in harsh conditions."

It takes me a moment to recall what a whale is, then I think of the humongous fish-like creature I've seen only photos of. They're incredibly rare and have only been spotted a handful of times in District 4, which is by the ocean where they live. So I guess I've evolved from a fatty to a giant 200 ton fish. Lovely.

The people in the streets wave excitedly as the train rolls past the strange rainbow citizens. I just smile serenely and wave back, enjoying the breeze on my face. I see Chauncey is back to his on-stage self, grinning hugely and waving vigorously to everybody, blowing them kisses. He acts as though they've all gathered round to see him, and not the kids who will be slaughtered this year. I stop smiling.

The train slows down more and more until it's pulled to a complete stop. Jotham comes into the room carrying a plate filled with cookies. He steps between us and hands me the plate. "Incase you want a snack before we set the monsters loose on you." I shove the plate back into his arms. "No. No. No. No more food!" I beg. Chauncey takes the plate from his arms and begins snacking on them himself.

"Wait, monsters?" My pulse quickens. They aren't going to send us into the arena right now, are they? No… that would be ridiculous. No training, no interviews, no parade, no meeting the other tributes. But apparently it was 'a shaky year', maybe the Capitol is just trying to show us the games have no rules, that they can just do whatever they want.

"Yeah." Jotham replies. "The stylists. Trust me Flicker, they're worse than any mutts you gonna find in that arena." Realizing I had panicked over nothing, I shrug and give an embarrassed giggle. "Well come on," Jotham says. "Let's go meet your monster." I stand up and stretch, my back hurting from leaning out the window. I follow Jotham through the train, until we're in the sitting room I first arrived in. A red eyed Chek Martinghale is being held in comfort by an agitated looking Lylax, while Jacob Davenport it talking to Vireo. I step off the train first, into the light of what feels like another sun shining on a different planet.

...

Okay, this is about as far as I got. I have like another half chapter after this. After my friends gave up on their stories I became disheartened. I might actually finish it someday. If someone enjoyed this story and would like to hear more, I'll probably continue it. I actually have a lot of ideas I think would be fun to write.