I do not own The Hunger games or any of the characters. All rights belong to Suzanne Collins. I thank my friend Sam, as she helps me greatly in my writeing.

"Get up!" A voice shouts above me. "Get up now! You cannot afford to be weak! Clove! You're wasting my time!" Shouts Mesh, one of my personal trainers. I'd knew it was her because of her voice, after all, I'd been forced to endure the horrible screech of it for as long as I could remember. "Get up you useless lazy-"

"I'm up!" I groaned. In District 2 they train us to be Peacekeepers, but you don't need to act like one until you're given an official uniform. Mesh isn't a Peacekeeper, but she acts as though she's someone of high stature, so she acts like a one. Whenever she talks, she's usually shouting.

"Get up!" She screeches. The pitch of her voice rings so high that it actually hurts and I groaned again. When I open my eyes, I'm immediately blinded by the glare of the sun. I'm blinking away the spots that flash behind my eyes when someone's head comes in to my line of sight. I don't need to wait for everything to focus to know who it is.

Cato my fellow tribute, and training partner.

A smug smiles plastered onto his face. Before he has a chance to insult me, like he usually does, I use the force of my hands and arms to I push myself off the ground, and I flip back onto my feet. It's then I remember that he and I are in the middle of hand-to-hand sparring. One my least favorite exercise. I touch the side of my head and hiss from the sting of pain im presented with when I do. Vaguely, I remember that Cato had swung his right hand at me, and I was too slow to duck. It must of connected, which explains the pain. Even though we're not supposed to make any physical contact to the head during sparring, Mesh had apparently decided to over look it. It doesn't bother me though, even I play dirty from time to time. We weren't exactly sticklers for the rules, since Careers like Cato and I technically aren't allowed to exist. It's unfair to the other Districts.

I hope that there isn't any damage to my head. It would be hard to explain later.

When I finally decide to turn around, I'm forced into a defensive stance as I faced Cato. He stands almost a foot above me, reminding me of why I hate hand-to-hand combat so much. I'm considered small by any standards, and next to Cato I probably look like a child; but Mesh, and some of our other trainers, have decided that I could learn to use people's height and weight advantages against them.

But why should I do any of that if I can just nail them between the eyes with a good knife?

Cato of course has spent this entire time having a good laugh at my attempts, especially when he'd flipped me onto the ground when I tried doing it to him.

This time, I gave him no warning when I attacked and we go though the motions of the training we do everyday. There's only rule when Careers train: Don't kill or do permanent damage to each other until the games. So when I decided against going for his head, I kicked him square in the chest, heel first, but it's like kicking a statue and he barely moves or reacts to it. When he reached for my leg, I went for his arm like they'd told me too, but all too soon I still ended up on my back, with Cato leering over me with a smug smile on his face. It would have worked if it'd been anyone but Cato, but he wasn't just brutishly strong and big, he actually had some what of a brain and reacted faster than his size would lead you to expect.

Mesh snarls whenever I make contact with the ground, she has us repeating the motions over and over again, but nothing changes. By the seventh attempt, my back is surely bruised and my muscles ache. I've gone through every trick I could think of, and just when I thought it was useless, I managed to corner him by getting him to pull too much force into a swing.

I had finally got a solid hold and flipped him.

My triumph dies before I can enjoy it though. Cato grabs my leg and violently slams me into the ground. He then rolled with the flip and ended back on his feet. The force of the slam has left me breathless. And as I gasped for breath, Cato adds insult to injury by straddling my waist, and pinning my hands at my sides with his bulky palms.

"Get off me Cato!" I snarled, struggling against his weight; it felt like he was going to crush my waist flat.

"Really Clove, if you wanted so bad to be writhing underneath me..." he chuckles, clasping my hands to my sides with his knees, "you could always just come to my room at night."

I spat at him, my aim proving still good as it hit him square in the eye, stopping him as he reached out to touch me. "You wouldn't be half as smug if I had a knife." I hissed. Wiping his face, he gave me his smug look again and rolled his eyes.

"But you don't, and I win again." He grins and I can do nothing but scowl.

"He's absolute correct, what are you going to do when there isn't a knife for you to use?" Asks Mesh, glaring down at me from another angle. She's decidedly old, I'd guess in her late fifties, and everyone knew she was one of the best trainers in the District, but I hated her. I mean, really, who names someone Mesh?

"As if they're isn't going to be one in the games." I snapped. I've seen the broadcasts, there's always knives. "I'll find one." I say and she snorts. I hate her, she acts like she understands me, but she doesn't; no one does.

She was a Peacekeeper trainer, nothing more. She has no idea what my life is like. I'm a Career tribute, actually I'm THE female tribute for District 2. Ever since I was born I've trained for the Hunger Games, and for all 15 years it's all I've lived for. When I was 10, I became a chosen tribute because I was stronger than most of the girls at school. I surpassed those who were bigger and stronger than me in any area. And my skills at throwing knives were recognized. I don't have to work in the quarries or in some factory like the other girls who I've trained with have to, but having my life constantly supervised and followed by trainers is far from anything pleasant. Either way, Mesh is nothing. Nothing like my mentor.

She keeps going on about the; "unpredictability of the games." and "being ready for everything." like she'd actually been in them, but she's only watched them like everyone else. Right now, I would have liked nothing more than to lodge a knife right into her arrogant throat, but today was the Reaping, and it would be really hard to explain her death.

I give a pained grunt, and try to pull my hands free from Cato's grip. He's holding on so tightly, I'm sure my their are going to be bruises. "Get off me Cato, so I can find a knife and cut you!" I screech, he keeps smirking, and part of me wondered who else was watching.

"You won't always have a knife, Clove." Cato tells me, he's wrong though, I always a knife on me. Well, except for today.

"Wanna bet?" I argue, he shifts so that he's sitting on my stomach, making breathing a difficult task.

"What if there isn't." Says Mesh. It comes out as and statement instead of a question. "What if their isn't a knife? You'll be helpless Clove, you rely too much on it."

"That's stupid," I huffed, "if I can't use a knife, I'll use an axe, if I can't use an axe, I'll use a sword. What does it matter?" Its doesn't matter, except for the fact I just like knives better. And are they really, for the first time since the Hunger Games began, not going to have knives? I grunt painfully, struggling once more against Cato. "I said, get off!"

"That's not the point, you may one day be without a knife Clove, or any weapon. How do you plan to survive then?" Mesh retorts, sighing like I''ve disappointed her greatly. I scoffed, and when she kneels down beside me she whispers. "This is the Hunger Games, and despite the name, it's not a game! You and Cato are the best of our District, and only one of you is going to come home, unless you screw it up! Your life right now… is in his hands and you have no knives, no weapon to help you. They're not going to hold back Clove, there's no rule about not killing in the arena, that's what you're supposed to do. The other tributes, if there are any left by the time it come's down to you and the strongest, they wont come to your rescue. You're a small girl Clove, but you can use his weight against him if you try." She encouraged. I grunted in response.

The only thing that she was encouraging me to do was cut her mouth straight off. None of this mattered, she'd been happy enough barely acknowledging me all year. And now that it was Reaping Day, she suddenly wanted to develop my skills. None of it mattered though, it wasn't my year yet because District 2 trained tributes until they were 18. And when I do go, I don't know where the hell she has it in that tiny little head of hers that anything she's taught me would ever be repaid.

She wasn't even a victor, not like Enobaria, my mentor, whose lessons would give me all that I needed to know to win the games.

"Let her up Cato." Speaking of mentors. Enobaria always seemed to know where I was when she needed me. Cato got off quickly and offered me a hand. "What. Is. This?" Enobaria snarled, I could see the anger reflected in my mentors eyes, and it was clear by the tone of her voice that she was unpleased.

"I'm training them, these are my hours as they are everyday Enobaria." Mesh snapped back, not at all humbled at being in the presence of the victor. Enobaria took a step towards the elderly woman, her eyes narrowing and her lips curling back over her fangs. Even though I stood at attention, I couldn't help the surge of excitement that I felt every time I saw her golden-tipped fangs. Enobaria was the victor of the 62nd Hunger Games, and like most of our tributes, a volunteer. During her games, she'd been ruthless, powerful, and outright vicious, going so far as to kill a tribute by ripping their throat out with her teeth when she had no other means. She was my mentor for the games, officially decided five years ago, and even more than that she was my idol. And as much as I admired her, she was still a scary woman and anyone who had the gall to stand up to her, was either very stupid, or they were counting on the Capitol's no-exceptions punishment to deter anyone from interrupting today's peace. I was anxious, I wanted her to silence the worthless trainer, but at the same time I didn't because I couldn't bear the thought of losing my mentor now.

"I thought you were smarter then this Mesh." Enobaria said, her tone barely hiding her anger.

"You don't like my methods?"

"We don't train our Careers, not today. You know that." Originally, we're not supposed to train at all. But the Capitol pretends to notice as long as our District makes it easy to be over looked. Today District 2 will be swarming with Peacekeeper and it will hard to over look if were caught. Mesh has messed up in Enobaria eyes. "You better hope your exercise went unnoticed, or you'll be the first taste of human flesh I've had in a long time." she threatens and I shiver with anticipation. "Come Clove." She calls when forcibly brushes past Mesh.

"Coming…" I say, and I'm instantly behind her. The respect I have for Enobaria runs deep. I counted myself lucky that I had her as my mentor. She could have chosen any other Career to train personally, and she'd picked me. Not only did that make me the envy of every other Career, it meant she paid direct attention to me, and I just loved it. I love the jealous stares of the other tributes when I am giving the attention they want but will never receive. It makes me on a level feel accepted.

I followed Enobaria to her house in the Victor's Village, a section of the District sets aside for victors of the Hunger Games. Only 3 houses are claimed in District 2 and Enobaria's house can be seen easily with its fang-themed decorations. Looking around as I followed my mentor, I feet a little jealous of the houses in this special area; the worst house here was better than any house where non-victors lived. That doesn't go to say that the house I shared with my father was crap, just that I'd rather have a Victor's house any day. I already had one picked out: the plain house next to Enobaria's. Every time I saw it, I dreamed of the day that I would win my Games and move in, next to my mentor. I daydreamed a little longer than I intended though as I realized how close we were to her house. I cursed and I hurried ahead to take my place.

Years of training under Enobaria have taught me how to respond whenever I'm with her in the Victors Area. As routine, I hurry ahead of her and open the door with a spare key she's entrusted with me, then I hold the door for her until she made her way in, during which I wouldn't make a sound until she's acknowledged me. That was a discipline she wanted me to follow and I gladly did it for her. I was afraid I'd slipped up today with my slow reaction. But she seemed not to notice as she walked in, and even gave me a small nod, much to my relief. My mistake was that I returned a grin before I could stop myself. We weren't supposed to show that kind of emotion, but I'd done it without thinking. I stopped immediately, but Enobaria noticed and frowned her disapproval when she stepped inside.

I would have followed her inside, but I knew she was displeased, so I stood at the door waiting for her to either call me in or dismiss me, silently kicking myself for my show of weakness.

"Come in Clove." the curt command comes from inside the house. I quickly obey, biting the inside of my mouth to keep from smiling at her invitation and I close the door from behind me. When I find her she's waiting for me at her kitchen table, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Just like with the door, I have another trained routine she expects of me; so I boil a kettle of water while watching her out of the corner of my eye. She's staring at my back so intently I can literally feel it; when the kettle whistles that it's ready I fumble with the package, and tea scatters all over the floor because my anxiety. Her gaze, or expression never wavers when I quickly look back and then bend down to sweep up the mess.

I feel like some kind of animal that's been marked for prey, like the ones I've seen on one of those Capitols nature channels.

"Sit…" She says it so suddenly, I drop the packets a second time. But I leave them where they've scatter back across the floor, and I sit across from her. Being alone with my mentor is different then being in public. The way she watches me when we're alone isn't as hard or calculated, she lets herself show a little emotion, mostly concern. Today none of that concern is there though, I can't tell what she's thinking. She's glaring, so I know I've done something wrong. Maybe I've embarrassed her by training today when I wasn't supposed to.

"I'm sorry…" I say slowly. Its the first thing I could think of saying. When she raises an eyebrow, I continue, "You told me not to train today. And I disobeyed… I'm sorry." I said, looking down at the table. Enobaria only sighs.

"Look at me Clove." She says with a hard edge. For a second I hesitate, afraid to see the disappointment that I'm sure is on her face. When she tells me a second time, I reluctantly obey.

She frowns, but its not a frown of disappointment. Her eyes have a soft look to them that I didn't think was possible, she looks more relaxed. "Clove, as much I distrust Mesh, she's right. What do you intend to do if you don't have a knife?"

"Then I'll steal one…"

"And if you can't?" She challenged. I wasn't sure where she was going with this, I had years to think about this didn't I? "Don't expect things to be handed to you so easily just because you've been trained. You cannot be arrogant. Brutus is stubborn and arrogant and he's taught Cato to be as well, but he can afford to be as arrogant as he pleases, because he has brute strength."

"I'm faster than Cato is." I argue.

"He's stronger and he knows how to use that strength. I saw that in your training." she states deflating my argument. She continues, "He's bigger than you Clove, and there will be others who are bigger than you. How do you plan on wining if that's the case?"

"I don't know…" I mumble, "I'll make an alliance or something." I say, I'm running out of answers. She chuckles at the thought.

"You will, will you? with who? Other Careers from Distinct 1? District 4? Or maybe one of the poorer Districts?" She asked. I just stared at her in confusion. Was she mocking me? But why? She was usually entirely serious.

When I don't give an answer, she leans forward and places her badly scarred hands on the table. She looks down at them silently and I followed her lead, tracing the faded lines of her scarred skin that makes her hands look as if they were bound tightly in frayed twine. I steal looks at her face as the silence drags on. Her eyes have taken on that distant look that I'd come to recognize as a sign that she was thinking. I want ask, but I don't because It must be something that really bothers her. Maybe she's thinking back to when she was in the Games.

"You were sloppy today." She finally says. I blink. I was sloppy?

"How?" I felt the quiver in my voice when I asked, and had to bite my tongue.

"You let Cato get the upper hand again."

"I didn't do it on purpose!" I snapped. I don't understand why she's so disappointed in me today. I tried. I honestly gave it all I had, but like she'd said Brutus's focus was strength, pure physical strength. Cato was built like a pillar and could throw a spear half a mile easy if he really wanted to, but that was really all he had. After training with him for so long, I knew where his weakness was: his confidence. Like his mentor, he was rash and arrogant which led to him into underestimating his opponents. Sure he beat me in the head-on fights we had in practice, but there wasn't going to be any of that in the Games. In an actual fight I knew I could beat him, Enobaria had taught me tactics and how to play my own strengths; Cato can't do a thing to me if he can't reach or hit me. As strong as he was, there was no way he could carry as many spears as I could knives, so his shots were limited. And if nothing else, Enobaria's endurance training would ensure that I outlasted him. If it ever came down to me and Cato, I would win easily.

Surely she knew that. So why the hell was she speaking to me like I was child? Because I lost a stupid sparring match that threw away every advantage I had?

"You're still too weak." she tells me calmly.

Suddenly it hits me, she doesn't think I could win. She's abandoned any hope in me and I can't keep the despair from showing on my face. She stays quiet, looking me up and down. My mentor saw my weakness, she'd seen what that had done to me. She thinks I'm weak.

"No I'm not." I say so angrily, I can feel my teeth grinding.

"You are… Cato beat you. Maybe I should have taken him on as my student…"

"I tried. Enobaria…" I say, feeling the anger bubbling inside my stomach. It hurts. of everyone, I never thought she'd betray me, that she'd lose faith in me.

"Try harder." she says.

I growled at how calm she is. "That's not fair!" I shout before I can stop myself. "Cato is bigger and I never beat him in hand to hand, no one ever does! I'm faster then he is! Why are you treating me like I've already lost to him? It's not fair!"

"The Games won't be fair Clove!" She snarls slamming her hands on the table. "They never are. Being quick will not be enough. What have I been teaching you? Do you not understand my methods? You can not afford to be weak. If you can't use brute strength, then you have to be smart. You have a bright mind Clove, you can think on your feet, you can improvise. Cato isn't an idiot, Brutus has taught him every fighting technique he knows and how to counter each of them! You're going to have to use tactics he's never seen." She says. I scoff, but I think about what she's said. Enobaria was certainly right, Cato knew how to fight, but he only knew what he'd been taught, he could improvise as much as a rock could curve in midair.

"Have you seen your father yet?" Enobaria then asks, recomposing herself and changing the subject. She motions to her empty cup.

"I saw him this morning, with his wife and her son." I say, getting up to finish preparing her tea. I don't call her, the woman my father is married to, my mother because she isn't; my mother had been lost giving birth to me. To me, that woman was just my father's latest bride, one of many over the years.

"Clove, you've trained hard. No one denies that you're our District's best female tribute. That's why I've decided you'll volunteer this year." Enobaria says as I place the cup of tea before her.

I silently gasp at the news. Volunteering isn't anything strange in District 2, it shows confidence, and confidence means more sponsors who'll try to keep you alive during the Games. But it wasn't my turn yet. District 2 had long ago decided that its Careers would be partnered from the beginning, and that they were not to enter the games until both were at least 18, because of that, Cato and I weren't up for another 3 years.

Apparently that's not the case this year. My mentor know best though, so I don't protest, I just nod, but knowing that I've been promised to take part in the coming Games have set something off inside me. There's a part of my mind that makes me want to scream and throw a tantrum, to plead and bargain, anything for an out. Being in the games means certain death, and not only was I going to be in them, I was going to OFFER myself to them. I have to block off these thoughts though, I'm a Career. This was what I was meant to do, and I'd long accepted it, even looked forward to it. That's what I tell myself to keep from breaking down into tears at least. Careers don't cry, and we certainly are not afraid of dieing.

"You're afraid." Enobaria states more than she asks. I smirk. I have to sell myself, convince her and everyone that I'm ready. I couldn't let them see me sobbing and pleading like I wanted to, that'd be shameful.

"No. I'm ready for this." I say, and she smiles the first kind smile she's given me all day.

Its then when the sirens go off, alerting us that we have an hour until the Reaping.

Enobaria sips her tea, but her hand wavers when she sets the cup back down. I can tell she's nervous too. She tells me to go find Cato, and I obey. I follow a crowd of people coming from the stone-processors as they file into the center of the District. There are checkpoints where Peacekeepers or people from the Capitol sign everyone in to make sure no one skips the Reaping. It's a simple process, signing in, they line you up and take a little blood, comparing it to their list of everyone living in the District. Sometimes someone cries when they prick them and they get pulled out of line, but I don't think anything happens to them except that they've embarrassed themselves, their parents and trainers. Careers never cry though, you get a warning the first year you're able to stand by yourself but after that, no more. We're supposed to take the pain and smirk at the Peacekeepers, because they're just another challenge for us to overcome.

It didn't take me long to find Cato, he stands out so easily amongst the other Careers.

"Hey, sorry about earlier." He says looking down at me as I join him. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

I shrugged. "Whatever." I say, making myself sound bored and uninterested. "You got lucky."

"Sure I did." He says unconvinced, but he leaves it at that, a smug smile still on his face. He looks excited though. I roll my eyes, knowing he's watching, but he's convinced that I don't care.

I look around at the other Careers, I couldn't remember which pair's turn it was supposed to be, but I wondered if Enobaria had told them that it was my turn this year.

When the hour is up, everyone has gathered quickly, but we're forced to wait another half an hour until Lyme, another victor, finally take her place at the centre of the podium. She begin with the ceremonial speech that reminds us for the 74th time what everyone, except maybe the younger kids, already know. She recites to us the story of Panem and how it came to be. How it rose up from the ashes of an ancient place called North America, how it was destroyed by disasters of chaos, droughts, storms, fires that engulfed even the seas, and the brutal wars that followed. Lyme tells of how the ruins left by all this formed the Capitol, and divided Panem into thirteen Districts of peace and prosperity. Then she tells us of the Dark Days, the evil times where the Districts rose against the Capitol but were quickly put down, and how the leader of it all, District 13, was wiped from existence.

Everyone takes in what Lyme is saying, but no is really paying attention, except the new tributes. Its just part of the show, just an accepted process that will start the biggest event of every year in Panem. As Lyme nears the end of the speech, everyone's anxious. Several people shuffle in place when she gets to the part about how each District offers a male and female tribute for a battle to the death, and how there is only one survivor. Its a tradition that the Capitol's enforced to show us their generosity at not having wiped out our ancestors like they could have. By the end of Lyme's speech, everyone cheers for the kindness of the Capitol, like dogs trained to greet their masters at the door. Lyme then reads off the names of the past Victors from each Hunger Games and their home Districts, including herself, Brutus, and Enobaria. Both of whom take their stand on either side of Lyme. Everyone cheers at the prestige the three of them give our District, everyone except for me. I knew that Enobaria was only telling the truth as she saw it, but it still felt like she's abandoned me.

Finally Lyme says the words that everyone has been waiting for, and the response is deafening. "Happy Hungers Games everyone and may the odds ever be in your favor."

Everyone applauds and Enobaria takes the Podium when they bring out the bowls with the names of the tributes inside, one for male and one for female. She gives a second speech about how much honor it is to be chosen to represent the District, and that its our turn once again to be the victorious District. Through the crowd I manage to spot my father with his wife and her son. My father stood with his back straight and stiff, the model of a strong, middle aged man, his face as hard as the stone our District was famous for; I can't remember a time I've ever seen him really smile and mean it. Beside him, not even as tall as his shoulder, is his new wife: young, beautiful, just recently an adult, holding her son who only has a few years left until his first entry into the bowls they use for the Reaping. After, I don't know why, but I looked for Cato's parents; I found them a few rows behind my father. It was clear that Cato's looks come mostly from his father, both of them even had the same smug look as they waited for the speech to end. Cato's mother though, is a small woman, standing out from her husband and son. Her expression is neutral as she watches the proceedings, when anyone looks towards her she smiles but it's obviously strained even from where I am. I wonder if she knows, that Enobaria and I, may have single-handedly sealed her son's fate. I didn't want to hurt them, but Cato was my partner Career, that meant he'd have to die, because I wasn't going to lose.

Cato nudges me and I look up just in time to see Enobaria reaching down into the bowl, her eyes are not watching what she's doing, instead she's looking straight at me. I tense as she draws the name and unfolds the paper. She and I know that I'm going to volunteer regardless of the name she draws and she's telling me to be ready. There's a pause when she finally calls the name.

And It's mine.

Just as I'm about to foolishly shout out 'I volunteer' my own name reaches my ears and I pause. The people in front of me turn and stare, some enviously, others approvingly. But I only look past them to my mentor, she nods curtly. I can see the shock of the other female tributes, any one of them could have been chosen this year. I notice a girl whose 3 years older then me, I know because I've trained with her, but someone has their hand clamped over her mouth as she cries and stomps angrily.

"Come Clove…" Enobaria says, she stretches out her hand and beckons me with her fingers. I approach like a dog as I obey, plastering on a smug smile the best I can. Enobaria loudly introduces me to the District as if they'd never seen me before, leading me aside as Brutus takes the podium. He has a speech too, but it's about what we should want in an ideal male tribute, but there's no questioning that it's going to be Cato.

I find my father's face in the crowd again, his expression hasn't changed. It's still cold and hard, and he's actually glaring at me, like I've done something wrong. His wife has knelt down, shushing her son who's started crying at my name being called. He's causing a scene, so she hurriedly whispers to my father before carrying her him away.

I feel sick. I think I might pass out. But a firm hand holds me steady as I watch Brutus draw his tribute. I don't hear the name he calls, I only see Cato when he plows through the people in front of him and stands before the podium.

"I volunteer!" he bellows eagerly, drowning out any part of the name that's passed through his Mentor's lips, his voice overwhelming even the Capitol's voice amplifying technology. The crowd behind Cato erupts into applause and cheers as he stands next to me. He shakes my hand and turns to face them again. It all subsides except for one person, Lyme, who keeps clapping.

"Ladies and gentlemen of District 2, we have our tributes!" she almost screams into the amplifier as everyone erupts into applause again.

From then on everything is quick. Peacekeepers leads us away and I don't even have time to say goodbye to my father. No one gets the chance to say goodbye, they're taken straight from the stage to the crafts that takes them to a train bound for the preparation centers. The only form of contact we get is a letter of parting that we've prepared before each Reaping in case we're chosen. I hadn't written one this year, my letter had been the same for years and I'd just told Peacekeepers to keep my old one on hand; I'd written everything I wanted say on a piece of paper, and I'm not even sure my father has got it. On the craft, there's myself, Cato, our mentors, and Lyme, who acting as the representative escort for our District.

Several Capitol reporters try to interview us as we go by, but Brutus keeps them all back with angry snarls. They will have heard enough to twist his foul cursing and insults into enticing headlines. We're then shuttled off to the train, which takes off the instant the doors close behind us. The sudden speed of the train's take off takes me by surprise and knocks the breath out of me. I try to look professional, but I end up stumbling into a seat next to Lyme, who's some how remained in her seat and keeps staring at me.

"Have you ever been to the Capitol?" She asks, I look at her and shake my head. Traveling between the Districts is forbidden unless you're someone important on duty, but you had to be someone really special to be going to the Capitol except as a tribute. Not even my father has been to the Capitol and he's a head Peacekeeper. She just nods and she asks Cato the same question. I don't listen hear his answer though, because Enobaria has pulled me away to a separate part of the train.

"Try harder." She whispers, staring out the window. I blink, confused as to what in the hell she's talking about.

"What?" I ask just loud enough to be considered a whisper.

"Try harder. Make it look like you want to be here Clove." she tells me. I realize that I must still have some doubt showing in my expression. Composing myself, I smirk up at my mentor.

"Of course I want to be here." I hiss, "More than that, I'm going to show you that I'm the best, by coming home after I've killed Cato." I whisper to her confidently, and she smiles at me again, but this time I don't let my feelings show.

"Good Girl." she says, before she leaves me to join Brutus, Lyme and their conversations.

The journey to the Capitol takes less then a day; our train is already among the Capitol's high tech buildings before the sun even starts to cast its first shadows, not that it could be believed that night could ever come to a city with so many artificial lights. When we're dropped off, we find out that we're not even in the Capitol itself yet, just the outskirts. At the station there is another, fancier train that is waiting to receive all 24 tributes that will take us deeper into the city. When we board it, we find that each District has its own car, separate from the other parts of the train. Both Brutus and Enobaria give us strict instructions to not leave the car until told otherwise, and Brutus departs to his own devices. Enobaria stays with me as I explore what little there is to explore of the fancy train car until I'm bored, she then takes me to where I will be staying.

Cato and I are given separate chambers with our own facilities, including bedrooms, dressing areas, and even a private bathroom. Its one of the things I'm thankful for, not having to share a room with him. I take a moment to look around the room when Enobaria reminds me of how I'm supposed to be acting: that I'm supposed to prove to everyone that I wanted to be here, even if deep down, I didn't. Before she leaves, she tells me that dinners is an hour.

When she does leave, I strip down from my training clothes and take a hot shower, turning the handle for the water as hot as I can bear. The showerhead is loud, which means no one would hear when I cried, or see when the tears finally came. No one would ever know that I've thought about home, about my father, the only family I have, and I wonder if he's expecting me to come home. In all of 15 years he's never even called me by my name. Maybe if I won, he'd finally accept me and acknowledge my existence as his daughter. If by some freak chance I didn't win, then I'd be dead, and it will be as if a burden has been lifted from his shoulders, but losing is definitely not an option.

When I finish my shower, I dress in a red shirt and black shorts, the clock on the wall tells me I have fifteen minute before I'm supposed to head in for supper. I sit on the bed and brush my hair to present myself as a Victor. Out of the corner of my eyes I see a stack of letters on my table, they're the parting letters, collected from everyone who wanted to say anything to me: advice, congratulations, and final words. I wonder if my father had written one among them. The stack is tied together with a single, looped string, and it doesn't take me long to find the letter opener and cut, where I then look through the stack for my father's signature. It's in the middle of the stack, and when I see it I put it aside to be read last. I pick through some of the letters, they're the standard messages telling me to do the District proud and such. There's even one from Cato's mother; in it she talks about how proud she is of the woman I've become, and that as much as it pains her to admit, she hopes that I will be the one to come home. I pause at her letter, rereading it a second time. Why would she write this? Did she think Cato's arrogance would lead to his defeat too? Maybe she was hoping- no, I can't think too far into it. Cato's mother was too kind to be the sort of monster her son was, and there's no cruel intent behind her words.

There's also a letter my father's wife's son, Salem. Salem's only six, so I'm not surprised that his writing is horrible, most of the letter is a picture actually.

It's a group of people, 24 of them, and only one that is standing in the middle. Of all the letter's I'd read so far, this was probably the most sincere, no words, no double meanings, just a simple picture. It moves me more than I expect, but I know I can't show emotion, I was in the Capitol now, anyone could be watching.

By the time I've gone through all of the letters and reach for my father's, there's a knock at the door. It's Cato reminding me about dinner being ready soon and that I should be ready. I know this, Enobaria was very serious about being on time, she's always early to places and meetings, and as her student, I'm meant to be there even before she is. So there's no time for my father's letter yet, I leave it where it is and join Cato outside my room. I have to bite my tongue when I see him. He's dressed in a blue top that looks like it's meant for a woman and black jeans. He must have had the same idea to take a shower, because his hair is still wet and unkempt. He looks me over and grins.

"If you get lonely tonight, my room is just across the hall." He says, and I snort.

"What? Are you hoping I stab you in the night?"

"You wouldn't hurt me Clove, were partners." he says with a serious scowl.

"Unfortunately…" I say and press past him. I will not give him any satisfaction, or my attention. Not until the games have started. I follow the narrow corridors until it lets out into a room that is easily recognized as the dinning room. The walls are a polished panel and the table is set with expensive-looking dishes. The first thing I think of when I see them is how easy the little dishes would break against Cato's thick head. Both Brutus and Lyme are already there and talking, but when we enter they stop and Brutus shoves a dinner roll into his mouth. My mentor is no where in sight.

"Where Enobaria?" I ask.

"She'll be along shortly. Sit. Eat." Lyme says brightly, gesturing to the empty chairs left at the table.

When we sit, the servers begin bringing in the food in courses. The first was a thick and meaty stew or carrot soup, followed by barbeque ribs, lamb chops, salads, pastas, and foods I've never seen before. There are drinks of all different shape and colors, and when I choose one, its a neon blue drink that tastes strongly of apples. I don't touch the soups or course they bring out, but I see that Cato and Brutus are practically shoveling the food into their mouths. I wrinkled my nose at the sight of them.

"Aren't you hungry?" Lyme asks, staring at me as I nurse the drink. I'm starving, but I don't say anything and just nod "Then eat." she says and her voice tinkles as she laughs lightly. I shake my head.

"I'll wait for my mentor, Thank you." I say. Both her and Brutus then look at me. They both seem surprised. I don't see what it is, it's mine and Enobaria's routine. She had taught me that I'm never to eat without her if she's invited me to supper. This was a Capitol supper for the biggest event of the year, but she's still here and even if I still felt hurt, I won't disrespect her.

"You're brought up quiet well Clove." Lyme says softly. Brutus snorts.

"She's brought up like a pet!" he snarls and Cato laughs, spiting mash potatoes across the table. I don't really remember reaching for it, but I've suddenly found a steak knife and I'm twirling it in between my fingers.

"Even if that is true, she's at least has table manners. But the only animals I see, are you and your student…" Enobaria says as she comes in, she too wrinkles her nose at the way Cato and Brutus are stuffing their faces. "Tools separate us from animals...tools like a fork and napkins. Come Clove, we will dine in my room. Lyme will you join us?"

"Of course." Lyme says cheerfully and eagerly. I think she just wants to get away from the inhaling of foods and talking by the mouth full. And who would blame her?

Enobaria lead us into another compartment that is to be her chambers. A smaller version of supper has already been brought here, I think that maybe she had intended this all along. I know from experience, that she doesn't like eating in crowded places, and while 5 wasn't a crowd, Cato and Brutus we're two too many.

Back at District two, a feast is held to honor her birthday, and while everyone would be at the victors square, she would invite me to dine privately with her, occasionally with the addition of Lyme.

"Go ahead and eat Clove." She tells me. I take a seat and reach for some of the stew. It's one of the most delicious things I've ever had, and I show it as I spoon more of it into my mouth eagerly. Enobaria smiles as she picks a plate of salad, chatting aloud about the Reaping in other Districts.

"I'd like to see the recapping." she says. Lyme nods. She up in an instant and pressing buttons on the wall behind Enobaria. The wall before us starts projecting a series of recording from each District. The Capitol speech can be heard, the one that's always said before the Reaping in any District. The footage shows District 1, the wealthiest District that produces all of the Capitol's luxury goods. Because of their wealth, they can afford to have Careers, and pay off the Peacekeepers if needed. it's also expected that their tributes align themselves with Districts 2 and 4.

The first tribute from District 1 is a blond girl, she literally squeals and hugs the nearest person to her before she climbs onto the platform. The announcer introduces her as Glimmer.

I snorted. Glimmer, having a name like that would have been enough encouragement for slitting my own throat. I hoped that I would be the one to take her out. The male tribute is more composed, and he's a volunteer. He's so skinny that I'm certain Cato would snap him like a twig, but he's a Career so he must have some skill. According to the announcer, his name's Marvel.

After that it shows District 2, it show Enobaria calling my name, and when I join her on the podium. I'm glad when I see that I don't look as nervous as I felt when I approached the podium. Actually I look proud, even a bit smug. The screen then cuts to Cato, lunging forward as he volunteers. District 3 is nothing special, and District 4's male is a 13 year old who no one volunteers for; the girl is just another tribute. I'm not going to waste time on killing the ordinary tributes, so I pay attention to the tributes that look dangerous or tricky.

In District 5 there's a fox-faced girl with sleek red hair, and a boy much too tall for my liking from District 6. District 7 is easy to over look. And District's 8, 9, and 10 are laughable, the male tribute from 10 has a crippled foot. District 11 has a little girl that no one volunteers for, like the boy from 4, her partner is a towering monster that might rival Cato. It's clear that Enobaria was right, I was one of the smaller tributes, and if I couldn't handle Cato, then this handling this giant head on would be impossible.

When the recap has reached District 12, Brutus barges into the room and staggers unsteadily. Cato is with him, and It takes all of his strength in holding his mentor up.

"Twelve…" he slurs, "what a laughable District!" he laughs and Lyme sighs at Brutus's state, but Enobaria snorts her agreement with Brutus. Of all the Districts 12 had the least victors, and only one was currently living. Instead of the victors conducting their Reaping, they had a spokesperson from the Capitol, a woman who had been dressed in an gaudy pink outfit. When she announces their only victor, it's even more laughable as the man is so drunk he promptly falls over, spilling beer all over himself. Brutus laughs and mutters something about the man's name being Haymitch. The woman then draws the name from the bowl, and a little girl steps forward. Her name is Prim something, small, skinny, she will be no doubt an easy kill…There's a commotion on screen, and the girl doesn't get far before another, much older girl frantically runs forward to get to her, when she does, she yells something that not even Enobaria ever expected from District 12.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

Well there we have it. Chapter 1

I hope you like it, Please Rate and Review, Reviews make me a happy inspired writer.

Please forgive any Mistakes I may have made in writing this chapter. See you soon!