Another Peacekeeper returns to escort me to the train. Like I'm going to run. They'd just catch me and force me to go anyway. I wonder, if I was killed in the chase, if they'd have to have another reaping. I don't think it's ever happened before, but I make a mental note to ask someone. Who cares if they don't like the question? What can they do about it? I'm going to die anyway. A chill runs through me as I set my eyes upon the sleek Capitol train. Reminds me of a snake. Carver is there also, although he looks stronger than I feel. And Johanna Mason, of course. Johanna, our mentor, looks the same as always; short brown hair, brown eyes, and a fierce expression claiming she'd rather be anywhere else. Her sanity is to be debated, seeing that look. But she's gone through the Games, and managed to survive. She's got to be tough. Johanna glances at me long enough to point in the direction of the door onto the machine taking us to the Capitol. As we are helped up on the train, I slip on the train of my dress- much more annoying now that I remember it. I lose my balance and am falling in midair when I feel hands on my back. Carver's there, supporting me and breaking my fall. "Thanks," I mutter under my breath. Carver just nods, not making eye contact or changing facial expression. What a jerk. He could at least ask me if I was alright. But I'm glad at the same time. If he grows on me, I might have a problem in the arena. As it is now, I could take him out. No problem.

oOo

I focus once again on the interior of the car we're now standing inside. All plush. All velvet. Very classy. Nicer than my house, even though I lived in the nicer part of town. Our mentor-whose name I still don't know-ushers me to my room and Carver to his. I walk in and close the door, and can't help but gasp a little. This is my room? It's perfectly furnished-in deep scarlet and blazing gold. The very picture of wealth and satisfaction. My feet wander around the large compartment until I find the bathroom. I spot a shiny panel filled with more buttons than my shower at home. There's pretty much every option you could have for a shower available. A fragrant aroma reaches my nose, and I turn to find a fresh vase of freesia and orange blossom. I inhale the rich scent and stoop to examine the flowers. If it weren't for the strong smell I would have thought they were fake. They're obviously perfected in some Capitol lab to insure the absolute best flower ever. They're lovely, even though there's no point. The perfection of the flowers-the beauty-frightens me. Why would they go to such lengths to beautify our temporary living space if we're going to die anyway? It must be truly horrible in that arena. Suddenly, I am sickened by the thought. I turn away to go back into my main bedroom and am about to sit on the bed when a shudder rocks the train. My eyes turn toward the window outside as I fall on the cushioned mattress. My suspicions are confirmed when the ground outside trembles once again. I hear screams outside and in other parts of the train, and know that it will be bad. Because what the Capitol doesn't care about, overlooked, never dreamed of messing up their perfect day, is something even the most brilliant scientist could never prevent. Because here in District Seven, we have earthquakes.

oOo

Trying to stay flat, I crouch on the bed for what seems like forever as shudders rip through the train, the ground outside. I hear several large objects thudding as they hit the ground, and glass breaks all around me. The sparkling chandelier that reflected rays of golden light when I first walked in falls with a mighty heave, and lands inches away from my head. Shards of white-hot glass rain down on my, and I feel several cuts open on my face. I want to move, to get away, but I know the safest course of action is to stay here and ride out the most powerful kind of natural disaster. Something heavy breaks, and mere seconds later I feel an impact on my head. As the world fades away someone stumbles into my room, and hollers an unintelligible comment. As everything shakes back and forth, I grab on to my bedspread and black out.

oOo

"Is she all right?" a concerned voice asks. I hear responses and muttering, but the pain in my head overwhelms me and I block out everything, trying not to scream. I know without confirmation that my face is bleeding and I have a large bump on my head. "She'll be okay," I hear a calm voice answer. "She was hurt worse than the boy, but no permanent damage done." So Carver is fine? I'm unable to move here, miserable and disadvantaged, and he's normal? Even though it's not his fault, hate burns in me. Enough to make me open my eyes and struggle to a sitting position.

"Lavonne, lay down," I am told, but I ignore the words of advice until a tall man in a white coat comes over to my seat. "Can you hear me?" He asks. I nod, and he breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay, I need you to listen. A very powerful earthquake came through as we were about to pull out of the train station. There were four casualties, but mostly minor injuries. Your district was very lucky. You have a lot of swelling and your head will be sore for a while, but you're okay. We have medicine that will fix those cuts up right away. Carver was okay. Your bedroom was almost destroyed, but it was the worst damage. It's getting refurnished as we speak. And we're on our way to the Capitol."

Author's note: I wanted to change things up a little bit; start with some action before the Games. Hope you like!