Wiress's POV

I am in the guest room of Beetee's house in the Victor's Village.

My house has been burned down by the Capitol. Tomorrow is the Quarter Quell. All my life, I couldn't even see sunshine—only imagine it. Could my life get any worse?

Well, I suppose I should be positive. I'm still alive. I'll be alive for a few days after that.

Then I probably won't be alive anymore.

Just a weak, crazy little tribute from District 3. I might be smart, but no one but Beetee understands that. Even Beetee's been wary about my sanity lately, but of course he hasn't said that to me. I can just see it in his eyes, his expression whenever I say some crazy metaphorical thing I've come up with. I sigh.

I'm lucky to have even survived my first Games. On top of that, I didn't even kill anyone in the process! That's probably why the Capitol burned down my house. They wanted blood in my Games, but all they got was a plan. And plenty of knowledge about my surroundings.

That year, the Games had been in an environment unlike any other. A narrow, winding metallic tunnel. All around, there was technology embedded in the walls; highly useful, if you knew how to get the tools out of the walls. I was the only one who noticed this. It was like the Arena was built for District 3. I didn't use any of the swords, or spears, or daggers; only the ones necessary for survival. None of the other tributes would have figured out that the walls held a secret, had they not spied on me; and besides, I had no allies. Or a use for them. Not even my district partner, who was killed in the Bloodbath. (This, actually, was held outdoors. We were then somehow transported into the tunnel by unknown means.)

They all thought that I was crazy, of course.

The chances of me surviving the Quell are slim. I know that Plutarch has made a plan to rescue all of the tributes from the rebellion before we die, like Johanna and Beetee and Katniss, but I'll be killed before then. I'll be so absorbed in something that I won't notice that my death is minutes away.

At least it'll stop my suffering.

But I don't want to be a broken machine. Without purpose.

I sigh again, then pull the covers over my frail body. I really don't have much strength at all, except in my hands; but what good would that do?

I stare out the window. I see a light that's probably just a streetlamp, but I try to imagine it as a star. It helps me calm down.

I close my eyes and fall unconscious, dreaming.

I see a young girl with light brown hair, probably around 11 years of age. She's surprisingly tall, even taller than I am. Taller than most of the people in my district, in fact. She seems inquisitive. She sits there, on the floor, writing something on a piece of paper.

Then, I see this huge, monstrous-looking woman enter the room, yelling taunts and insults and all sorts of terrible things. Her arms are outstretched, and I have a feeling that it's not for an embrace.

The poor girl doesn't scream. She widens her eyes and positions herself behind a marble column, waiting. She grimaces in anticipation.

The beastly lady starts looking for her up and down. I realize that I should do something.

I whistle softly, and the woman notices me, and scales up my small stature.

I feel as if I know this woman's name, for some strange and supernatural reason. So, with my finger, I trace the word "Agatha" on the wall behind me. The letters appear on the wall, shining in a metallic, electric blue. It literally seems to be humming with electricity. Sparks fly from the name.

The woman widens her gaze, screams inaudibly, and leaves…? Not expected.

The young girl looks at me and smiles.

I smile back, and whisper my name.

She whispers, "Matilda." That must be her name. She runs up to me and gives me an unexpected hug. I hug her back.

She reminds me of someone.

Of a sister. The one I never had.

I stroke her long brown hair gently, and she smiles again. "Thank you," she says.

If only the Capitol were this easy to conquer.

She tells me about the awful Headmistress they used to have in their school, named Mrs. Agatha Trunchbull. I look behind myself, and see this name imbedded in the wall. How on earth did I know her name?

Matilda tells me that when she was little, she used to be able to move things—with her eyes. Her teacher at the time, Miss Honey, had told her that it was because she didn't have enough challenges for her brain. I could actually believe that. Matilda seems like a very smart girl.

Matilda says that once, she had a dream, where I was at school, and I was being taunted by the teacher. The kids had started laughing and throwing paper at me, and it was all because of this…this metaphor I came up with that the teacher didn't get. That actually did happen to me, multiple times.

She says that that happened to her too sometimes, except the kids didn't taunt her. All because of that woman, the Trunchbull.

"We're so similar, Matilda," I say, "nobody understands us, yet we have so much to comprehend. In my world, it happens to me all the time. Except it happens to almost everybody. I live in this place called Panem, and there are 12 districts, with a Capitol in the center. I live in the 3rd district, which makes technology. You see, once, we all rebelled against the Capitol, because they were treating us unfairly. Well, the Capitol started the Hunger Games. They make children between the ages of 12 and 18, from each district, fight to the death—for their own entertainment. All because of a misunderstanding.

Matilda widens her eyes. "W-why should they do such a thing to you? That is just against humanity! I hate it! I hate it I hate it I hate it!"

I nod in agreement, and sigh. She sighs back.

"If only everyone was like you, Matilda. If only they were. Now, I have to go into the Hunger Games tomorrow. I'm going to have to die, for those monsters' entertainment. I have only a few days left to live."

She starts quaking and sobbing uncontrollably. "Why, Wiress? Why would they do such a thing? It's like they're wiping out an endangered species—the species of nice people! Killing all of these people! So much could be done, but they just end it! I hate it! I thought that there wasn't anyone worse than the Trunchbull—but there is. I—it's unbelievable. I want it to stop. I want you to live, Wiress. You, and all the other people in the districts. It's so…unfair."

I hug her again, this time more tightly.

"Don't worry, Matilda. Even if I die, maybe you'll still see me in your dreams. Maybe you will."

I shudder somewhat, then awaken. It's morning. No birds are singing.