I followed Effie and the victors to the train. People surrounded us, but I felt more alone than ever. The Quarter Quell called for 48 tributes, meaning within weeks there would be 47 dead children. Forty-seven dead children. Almost certainly, one of the dead tributes would be little Sarah.

I stepped up onto the train, but I did not step far into the cart. I turned around to face District 12. I saw hungry eyes, taunt skin, and no one I called family. I looked out into the masses and saw that I was alone. I looked out into the masses and saw I was alone, just as 12 was alone among the districts. I would be a victim of the games, but they were a victim of Panem. Victims, Victims, Victims. How could so many of us be victims? We were the majority.

For the same reason I dressed nice for the games, my pride and anger, I stood tall now. I may be a victim, but I would not be helpless. I would be strong during the games and show that 12 has worth, that 12 is strong, that 12 is persistent, that 12 is a district worth fighting for. Death would be the eventual end, but I would make it hard for the people of Penam to say goodbye to me. I would capture their interest. I would capture their love. For 12, I would be strong. We are victims, but we are the majority.

Katniss and Peeta were just the beginning. I would continue in their place to show the last two victors were not the exception, but the rule. We at 12 have worth.

"Lavender dear," Effie said in an airy yet cheerful voice. "Please, we must be going. Come in. Come in."

As I stood at the edge of the train, I put my middle three fingers together, kissed them, and turned them to the crowd.

"Goodbye," I said.

The train pulled away and I turned my back.

Effie led me to the dinning cart where the victors and tributes sat. The cart was full of things that I had never seen before: wall sized paintings, ornate clocks, food of every color, the richest woods, and pristine furniture. There wasn't a single speck of dust in the entire room. The richness of the room made me feel like a child. It also sickened me-the worth of this one cart could feed so many in 12.

There was a semi-circle of armchairs where the group sat. I sat in the open chair to the right of Sarah and across from Ezekiel. Peeta and Haymitch sat across from Sarah. Katniss and the other male tribute sat at the bend of the circle. The only ones talking were Haymitch and Effie.

I could feel eyes on me and it made my skin crawl. Being in the spotlight would be hard after living a nearly invisible life.

A movement caught my gaze: Sarah's hands were shaking. On impulse scooted my chair closer to hers and held her hand. My movement silenced the room. Sarah looked up at me with big brown eyes; she seemed half grateful and half wary.

"We were born to a world of cruelty," I said quietly to her. "But that does not mean we have to be cruel to each other."

Her fingers squeezed mine.

"We don't have to be cruel?" spat Ezekiel. "The point is to kill each other."

I looked up into his angry stare. He could have been attractive if he wasn't holding onto so much hate; it made his eyes seem small.

"That is not the point of the games," I responded.

"You are beautiful, but you are stupid," he sneered.

There was a long moment of silence.

Just as Haymitch started to clear his throat to speak up I said, "The games are nothing more than a tool of control. We fear each other and forget to fear the real threat. It is a reminder that we have been collared by the Capitol. It is a harsh tug on the leash to make us too afraid to walk ahead. A dog fight is not about the dogs, it is about those who watch it."

"Are you saying you will not play the game?"

"Oh, I'm going to put on one damn good show. But it is not my role to intimidate or kill anyone in this room. There are 44 other tributes and 8 of them are careers. Why should I have to spill the blood of one of my own?"

"You're not going to kill any of us?" Said the other male tribute. His voice cracked and he seemed just as young as Sarah.

"Let us make a deal. If it comes down to just you and me," I said. "You wait until I'm asleep, then you cut my throat."

"I... I don't know if I could," he said.

"I'd do it myself, but the game makers will not let the last death end in suicide—not after last year."

There was a long and heavy pause in the air.

"And…if you can't do it even after we agreed that is to be the plan, then you're not going to make it to the final two."

It was harsh, but it was the truth. His eyes started to well up with tears. He stood up and ran to me. He collapsed on my lap. His head buried in my chest and he shook with despair. With my free hand I stroked his hair.

"Cut your throat?" He questions.

"You will have to press down harder than you think." As I spoke I took his hand and dragged it across my throat. My eyes met Ezekiel's and I gave him a slight nod.

Effie sniffed and wiped a tear away from her eyes. For some reason, her moment of humanity shocked me and then it made me smile.

"Well," she said, trying to cover up her emotions. "Well, we should get talking! The Quarter Quell is so exciting and all eyes will be on 12 because of Katniss and Peeta. The Capitol has spent a gloriously obscene amount of money on the games this year. You will have a whole new training facility, new rooms, and so much more! New to this year is that the tributes will get to meet many of the sponsors because the Capitol will be hosting televised parties and events throughout training. Plus you get an extra week of training! Oh, it will be such a glamorous time and we will make sure you are all as comfortable as possible. Questions?"

I had questions, a lot actually, but none I wanted to ask in front of the children. I wanted to know the feeling of the Capitol. Were the people happy or angry with Katniss? Did they want a sweet tribute or a vixen? How do I hurt them the most with my death?

Once both Sarah and Liam, the younger male tribute, calmed down, we all sat down to eat dinner together. There was so much food, so many flavors, so much to try. After years of grilled squirrel I couldn't believe that food could taste like this.

"So tomorrow afternoon we will arrive in the Capitol," Effie informed us. "You will each go through the grooming process, meet with your stylist, and tour the living quarters. Oh, I just cannot wait for you to see what luxury you will be living in for the next two and a half weeks! While you sleep tonight, we will clean your clothes that you are wearing. The citizens of the Capitol will want to see you in your district clothes."

All meal Effie was optimistically informing us of all the wonderful things we were going to experience. Her happiness was suffocating and more than once I had to restrain myself from telling her she was talking to four corpses. That's what we were, four kids waiting to be corpses.

Once the meal was over I asked to lie down. Alone in my compartment I felt a part of me break. I curled up on the floor in the corner of the room and cried. I allowed the self-pity and doubt to overwhelm me. I mourned for the others in 12.

I awoke in the early hours of the morning still lying in the corner of the room. My throat was swollen with thirst and I staggered over to the sink. I cupped the running water in my hands and put it my mouth. I swallowed a few mouthfuls before washing my face. I felt all my feelings last night, but now I had to put up a wall. Today is a new day and I must not waiver. I cleaned up, put on my white dress, detangled my long waves, and pinned back part of my hair. I looked in the mirror and thought that I looked all right. My dark hair reached just above my waist, my skin was clear and fair, my eyes were a mix of blue and green, but I was short, often had bad posture, and forgot to smile. I wasn't sure what people saw when they looked at me, but Gale had said I was beautiful.

The sun had not risen when I made it to the dinning cart. No one was around so I allowed myself to truly take in my surroundings and be in awe of all the things I had never seen before. I walked around the room and saw such elegance. I reached up to touch the glass chandelier. The glass chimed filling the empty cart. Then I walked to the wall sized painting.

It looked like home, not 12, but the woods. The landscape captured a lake surrounded by trees of every shade of green. The sky seemed to be endless; it was clear expect near the horizon it looked like a storm brewed. The image appeared serene, but at the same time almost had a current of energy flowing through it. I took a step close and saw that I could see every brush stroke of the artist. Everything looked alive and growing. It made this compartment feel small and cage-like. I felt like all I had to do was take a few more steps and I would be inside the painting, swimming in the lake.

"Do you like it?" said a voice behind me.

I jumped and turned to see Peeta.

"Yes, very much so," I said quietly.

"Have you had breakfast, yet?" He asked gesturing to the table.

"No," I said shaking my head.

"Shall we?"

Sitting across from each other we buttered our toast and sipped coffee. I watched Peeta and thought about his games. I thought about him dreaming of Katniss, running around with the careers, in the cave, and finally the berries. It felt like just yesterday.

"Are you afraid to go back?" I asked him.

"What?" he said looking at me.

"Are you afraid, or nervous, to go back to the Capitol?"

He took a deep breath.

"Yes, the games don't really end for the Victors."

"And now you're a mentor too. I can't image what it is like watching the games knowing you spent the last weeks of the tributes lives getting to know them only to have them die. To have to pretend the games are fun and rub shoulders with the people who sponsor children murdering to stay alive."

"Well," he said. "Not every tribute dies, you never know a 12 may make it."

I laughed at him.

"After last year there is no way they are letting anyone from 12 win." I told him without wavering. "You guys broke the rules and they are mad. Why do you think there have been so many peacekeepers at home? They're looking for any reason to punish you and Katniss."

"So was yesterday's proclamation of 'if its you and me left, I'll let you kill me' just for show?" Katniss asked sitting down next to me.

I silently cursed at myself for sitting with my back to the door.

"We are each other's people, I don't see the point of lying," I said. "I will die for the tributes of 12, but I'm not going into the games with false hope."

"Don't you have a family to get back to?" Peeta asked.

"My mom died when I was seven and my dad died in the same mine collapse as Katniss'," I informed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be, we all have a story," I said.

Slowly the others started trickling in. Everyone dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, but somehow looked different. Throughout the train ride we started to get to know each other.

Sarah was the youngest of 5 siblings. Her dad worked in the coalmines and her mother assisted at the school. Her oldest sisters were both married. She talked about when her sisters were dating their future husbands. She told us about how the boys would come to their house together with flowers that they picked near the fence. She said that the boys were always dirty from the mines and once her oldest sister came home with a dark smudge on her cheek. "They had been kissing!" she said with big eyes. Sarah had never kissed anyone.

Liam was a middle child. His older sister was 18 and worked with his father in the Hob. He had a younger brother who was only 11. Liam still went to school but always worked odd jobs. He helped the mayor clean off the town hall's steps in the winter. He ran messages for the peacekeepers. He would clean up for a man who had goats. "My mom always got mad at my dad for not working in the mines. She wanted him to have a steady paycheck. I always tried to have a job so that he wouldn't have to do that," he said.

Ezekiel was the only child of one of the wealthier families in town. His father owned the general store. Not many of the locals had any money to go there, but all the peacekeepers shopped at the store and would make special orders to get things from the Capitol. Ezekiel spent a lot of time talking to the peacekeepers and was told that on his next birthday they were going to send him to training. "I know they aren't always friendly, but it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up," he said.

We arrived in the Capitol early that afternoon. The train platform was filled with people trying to catch a glimpse of us. They wore the more ornate clothing, had the brightest colored hair, and had on a lot of makeup. I'm no one to judge, but they looked barely human. As we gathered near the trains entranced I tried to calm myself. Stand tall, I told myself. Look happy and curious, I told myself. Make eye contact with people. Make them remember you.

We stepped off the train to a load roaring applause and flashing cameras. I did as I told myself. I smiled and gave slight waves. Both Sarah and Liam were a big anxious and walked very close to me. I put a comforting arm around both of them. The crowd loved it. Ezekiel paid no attention to us, or the crowd. All ages were there to see the first glimpse of the tributes.

We were almost of the car that would take us to our stylists when I saw a group of children. Four little boys, probably about 8-years-old, were throwing a ball back and forth. A little girl a few years younger was running back and forth trying to get the ball.

"Give it back!" She shouted.

They laughed at her and threw the ball back and forth faster. One tripped her. She started crying, but got right back up. I strayed from my group to theirs. Just before one boy caught the ball, I snagged it from the air. They all turned to stare at me in shock.

"Now, this doesn't seem like a very nice game," I said.

I crouched down to the level of the little girl.

"Is this yours?" I asked holding the ball out.

She wiped her tears away and nodded.

"What is your name?" I asked.

"Octavia," she said.

"What a beautiful name! My name is Lavender. Would you like your ball back?"

I held it out to her. She grabbed it and laughed.

"You all play nice now," I said with a smile.

As I returned to my group I could feel hundreds of eyes on me. I heard that patter of feet and turned to see Octavia running after me.

"Thank you, Lavender!" She yelled as she hugged me.

There was a collective "Awwww" from the crowd.

Once in the car Haymitch started laughing.

"Pulling heart strings are you?" he said between laughs. "In case you are not aware," he said to the other tributes, "Lavender is already playing the game."