As soon as the anthem ends, we're swarmed with peacekeepers. They guide us into the justice building and put us each in a room with plush chairs, couches, and carpet. I never thought I would ever come in one of these rooms in my lifetime. Well, not as a tribute, anyway. I've come up here a few times to say goodbye to friends, but that's it. I never thought I'd be the one being said goodbye to. And I only get an hour to say my goodbyes. Once I leave here I'm pretty sure I'm never coming back.

The first two people to visit me are my friends Hunter and Vincent, and then another pair of boys, then a few teachers. I heard one of them mumbling on his way out and just caught his last few words; "He was a good student...Going to miss him."

He doesn't think I'm coming back, which is probably true. As the latest pair of my friends leave, I catch a few of their words, too. "Hey, it's Peeta. He won't go down without a good fight.""Yeah, but that won't change anything. We're never going to se him again." My eyes start tearing up after they leave. No one thinks I stand a chance, I think, and they're most likely right. After the first few tears trail down my face, my parents walk in. Didn't think they would. I sniffle and stand up, and my father gives me a hug. "Oh, Peeta." He whispers. "I'm so sorry." I just pull back and look at him. "It's not your fault, dad. The odds just aren't in my favor today." I say. He purses his lips and sits next to my mom, who just studies me. "Where are Mason and Orlando?" I ask, and my dad just stares at the carpet. "Orlando had to watch the shop, and Mason was too upset. He couldn't bear it." He replies, starting to get even more upset.

"Oh. . ." My voice trails off. I can barley get the next sentence out, afraid I'll start crying. "What about you, mom? You haven't said a single word to me since you came in." I say angrily. My own mother has nothing to say to her son before he goes to his death. I should have seen this earlier. "No. Because I actually think District Twelve might finally have a Victor this year. So there's really nothing to say."She says. I'm taken by surprise. One, that she didn't yell. Two, that the thinks I can win? "She's a survivor, that one." She looks up at me and stands. She puts a hand on my shoulder just as the peacekeepers come to collect them. "Good luck." And with that she walks out.

What did she mean? Then it hits me like a pile of bricks. She means Katniss. I think. Not me. Right as the words play themselves through my thoughts, I know they're true. My father embraces me one last time. "Good luck, son." He says, and walks out, and I'm left alone. She's a survivor, that one. She had said. She means she thinks Katniss can come home, but not me. Her own son. She gave her own son the cold shoulder. This just makes me cry. This goes on for about ten minutes before the peacekeepers come to take me to the train station. I wipe the remaining tears from my face as I'm escorted to the car that's going to take us to the station. I shouldn't have cried. The station is cluttered with camera crews and reporters. But there's no use in hiding it, now. The peacekeepers have to push quite a few people out of the way for us to reach the doors of the train. We stand outside of them, so the cameras get good shots of us, but I take it as a last look at my home before I'm sent to be slaughtered. We're finally allowed to enter the train, and as soon as the doors close behind us, the train jerks forward.

The speed of the train nearly knocks me off my feet. I've never been on one before, but these Capitol trains can go up to 250 miles an hour. So when I regain my balance, I'm taken to a room that will be my assigned quarters until we reach the Capitol. A Big space with a bed, dressers full of clean clothes, a bathroom with a shower that has hot water. Not slightly warm water like at home, but HOT water. Effie says we can do what we wan, and wear anything we want, but to be ready for dinner in an hour. So I decide to take a shower. Just like pretty much all of District Twelve, I've never had one before. Until now. It feels so good, that I almost don't notice Effie knocking on my door calling me to dinner. So I step out of the shower and dry myself off. I go over to one of the dressers and pull on a clean T-shirt, pants, and find a pair of shoes in the closet, so I put those on, too. I walk around the train until I find the dining car. Haymitch is just walking out as I walk-in. "Where are you going? Effie says it's time for dinner." I say, but he just scowls at me.

"Well, I've been waiting and nothing has happened. So now I'm going to take a nap." He says gruffly, and staggers out of the room. I take a seat at the table, and sit for about five minutes when Effie and Katniss walk in. "Where's Haymitch?" She asks brightly. "Last I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap."I reply. "Well, it's been an exhausting day." Says Effie. She seems a little happier knowing he won't be here. I can guess why. They take their seats, and the meal is brought out a little at a time. Carrot soup, salad, Lamb chops with mashed potatoes, fruit and cheese, and last a big chocolate cake. Effie says to save room, but I can't as well keep myself from eating. The first time I actually have enough to eat.

So I'm stuffing myself, bite after bite. "At least you two have decent manners." Says Effie, just as I'm finishing the last of my potatoes. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

I remember that pair. Two kids who were from the Seam who were bone thin. I can understand why they would do that. Manners didn't matter to them. They don't matter much to me, either, but this is just how I've always eaten. But Katniss makes a point by putting down her utensils and finishing her dinner with her hands, which, of course, brings a smile to my face. And it makes Effie purse her lips and try not to go off. Once we finish dinner, I start feeling sick, and I can see my arms go slightly green, so my face must be, also. Katniss looks queasy, as well, so I can only imagine she's fighting to keep it down, too. We walk to another car to watch the recaps from today are reaping. They go by, district by district. There's a tall brown-haired boy from District one, a blonde-hared girl also from one, a short curly-haired boy from District 4, a huge, bulky guys from 11, and a small twelve year old from 11. After they show us, it ends, really, after Effie stops complaining about her wig. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behavior." She says, and I can't help but laugh. "He was drunk," I tell her. "He's drunk every year." "Every day," Katniss chimes in, and gives a slight smirk, which makes me smile some more.

"Yes." Effie mocks."How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. Haymitch, the one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and death!" As if on cue, Haymitch stumbles into the room.

"I miss supper?" He says, his voice slurred from sleep and alcohol. Then he pukes on the carpet and falls into it. "So laugh away!" Effie exclaims. She makes her way around the mess and leaves the room, leaving us to tend to Haymitch.