I stand before the long mirror in my room, staring at the dress I am wearing. Five people stand behind me, staring at the same thing. "How did you do it?" I whisper in awe. Terrence, my stylist, comes forward and smooths the skirt in the back.

"I knew what I wanted to make you, and then I knew how to do it. You know what you are, of course?" I do. I am a swan. My dress appears to be strapless, but there are clear rubber straps keeping it from falling off. It is snow white, with a snug bodice, that flares into what was once known as a mermaid skirt, only now it looks like swan feathers. And speaking of which, there is not a single one on my dress. Terrence has done something to the material to make it appear feathery, but in truth, all I am wearing is filmy fabric. My prep team has done something to my hair that made it curly, and it's pulled up into a bun on the back of my head, with soft curls tumbling down my back. Soft peach lipstick had been applied, turning my lips the color of a swans beak without being garish. Charcoal eyeliner furthers my resemblance to the majestic bird.

I am speechless, truly they had turned me into something wonderful. I smile up at Terrence, genuinely liking him. He smiles back, then goes over to the bed and picks up two small bundles of film. "Oh, I almost forgot. Your wings." He slips them on my bare arms, and I stare at the image in the mirror. The soft, gauzy material is attached to a couple of arm bands that fit just below my shoulders, the cloth falling in the uneven shape of swans wings. Terrence, my prep team, and I are all quiet, just gazing at the bird-girl in the mirror. Then Deena breaks the spell. Clapping her hands together in a business-like manner, she brings over a pair of white, strappy shoes with very high, very thin heels. To my eyes, they don't even resemble foot gear.

"I can't wear those, I'll fall over!" I say, feeling a flutter of panic. Breaking off a heel and falling on my face doesn't seem like a sound way of gaining sponsors. Deena is determined though, so, with many misgivings, I step into the outrageous sandals. To my surprise, they offer no trouble. It's much like walking on the ridgepole of our barn back home, which I have done many times while repairing the roof.
"Alright everyone, let's go! Don't want to be late!" Deena trills, and we all hustle to the elevator. "The rest should already be down there," Deena says. We enter the glass cubicle, and she pushes some buttons importantly, then fusses about being late all the way down. Terrence smiles and winks at me; we have plenty of time. Then the elevator stops, the door opens, and we step out into the huge room. The original Remake and Training Centers had been destroyed in the war five years ago, and when the Capitol rebuilt them, they built it as one massive building. The tribute's apartments are on the top eleven levels; below them is the Remake Center. On the ground floor is the huge room where the chariots are kept. On the lowest level, underground, is the Training Center.

As we enter the chariot chamber, we hear a fuss going on in the far side of the room. Deena and Terrence look grim: one of the District Ten horses is rearing, tossing it's head. Something had it spooked. Fury wells up inside me as I watch the stable hands try to control the beautiful animal. Pulling on the harness, whacking it repeatedly, they succeed only in scaring it further.
Heads turn as I rush across the room, my incredible dress streaming behind me. I shove the stable hands aside, knocking a few to the floor in my haste. I reach up and take hold of the horses mane, stroking it's neck, whispering to it. "Come on, what's all this about? Calm down, my beauty, you'll get yourself worked into a lather to go out in front of the whole nation." The horse calms slightly, shuddering. "It's alright, nothing's going to hurt you now," I murmur. I can feel the panic ease out of the beautiful animal as I continue to stroke it's neck, murmuring to it softly.

Becoming aware of footsteps beating a rapid cadence on the concrete floor, I look up. Terrence, Regina, the boy's mentor, and Deena are hurrying towards me. Terrence is carrying my shoes, and I suddenly realize I'm barefoot. "Thanks," I mutter, as I take my sandals and put them on. I am aware of every person in the room staring at me. Ignoring them, I look to Regina. "In which chariot am I riding?" I inquire. She nods to the one we are standing beside. "This one. You'll be with Woody." I look around, noticing the other tributes for the first time. A few stand out in my mind: The tributes from One are tastefully, if a little revealingly, dressed in matching costumes. Very short, tan dresses, covered with fake gold and silver coins that chime when they move. The boys are wearing kilts, made of the same materials, and no shirts. My eyes widen slightly, and I look away. District Four are dressed as Merpeople. I sneer slightly; how silly. I look at our tributes, and can't help feeling a twinge of mean satisfaction: Abagail's stylist was an idiot. She's dressed as a cow, complete with rubber udder. One of the boys is dressed in the tawny golden color of a mountain cat. He actually looks rather dashing. Then my eye falls on Woody, and my mouth drops in horror. He's dressed as a bull, with long horns sticking off his head. There's an udder hanging off his costume, too. I close my eyes. Time to be difficult again.

I turn to Regina. "I'm not going out with him," I tell her firmly. "I'll walk first." She glares at me and huffs, acutely irritated.

"Fine. Jackson, get over here. You're going with Brandi instead of Abigail." The mountain cat boy comes over, looking relived. He smiles at me, and I look away coldly. Terrence comes over, and I accept his assistance into the chariot. "Remember, stand up straight. You can choose how you come across." He drops a quick kiss on my cheek. "I'll be cheering for you, swan-girl," he whispers. Then the entire front wall of the room rises up, and the chariots start to roll out into the damp evening air.


Gosh, my writing is still making me wince. _ I don't remember when exactly it starts improving, but I promise it does. XD I wrote all these chapters when I was about fifteen, so...yeah, it's not the best. lol

Any and all reviews would make me very happy. :)