I lay in my bed awake. The first plant I remembered is the aloe vera which is used to treat burns, cuts, and skin infections. I groaned, as I remembered how Arada drilled plants knowledge in my head. I knew it will pay off, but still. I got up and started to dress, I knew my mother wouldn't bother checking on me or giving me advice.

I entered my garden and looked proudly at my peach tree. It was a gift from my father, who worked 12 hours a day for 2 months for it in other people's fields. Every since my father died, I have been taking care of it every since, trimming the branches so my brother won't hit them, raking the dead peaches so my brother won't trip on them, harvesting the products. I sighed, and began climbing the tree to get all the peaches.

After that, I continued onto my cherry tomatoes and found no disappointment. Forty-six bright tomatoes. I watered it, and continued on to all my other plants. After it was finished, I meet up with Arada and Miley, where we waited for our names to be announced. A woman in her early 30s walked onstage wearing a bright orange shirt that had long sleeves on one side, and none on the other. Her skirt did the same, long frills on one side, getting shorter and straight on the other side.

I squinted at her, as she was wearing such bright orange with a star on her frizzy brown hair, that she could be mistaken as the sun. She began to say, "Welcome to the annual 75th Hunger Games! I, Joseline Meringue, am District 11's escort! Today is a very special day as we shall choose 3 tributes for the Hunger Games, but it was already decided! Please give it up for Jean, Aranda, and Miley!" It was all quiet for a moment as we walked onstage, and then there was a loud applause.

I heard Miley mumble, "Filthy arrogant people who don't give a damn-" Aranda stabbed her in the stomach. I stood there, my face blank as I saw my mother fake-crying. Although Aranda's brother, Harry, was crying for real though. I felt a sense of loneliness as we walked to the train. Miley began to pace around in a circle while Arada sat in one of the booths, waving goodbye. I stood amid there, not wanting to break down.

Since I was chosen, they gave my mom a whole lot of food for her "loss." They just don't believe I'll win. I sat down, and then sprang up again not believing this was real. They made us starve so they could have crystal chandeliers, padded seats, and the worst of all, too much food. They want us to die for their thrill of enjoyment, and they want us to kill. Joseline stared at me, and finally, Arada broke apart as we entered a tunnel.

My stomach grumbled, and Miley asked, "Are we going to eat or no?"

Joseline clapped her hands, "Oh yes!" A plate filled with food lowered down into the table. As we sat eating, Joseline kept on studying me. I broke apart a chicken leg and dipped it in a special red sauce made from tomatoes, I waved my chicken leg in the air and asked, "May I help you?"

"I was just thinking..." she began, "That you look so much like a victor."

"I'm Gwan's sister." I said, eating the chicken now. She made an 'o' with her mouth, but nothing came out. Arada sighed, ans Joseline tried to make a conversation again, "Don't worry girls. It isn't everyday that 3 people could win."

Miley twirled a stringy substance called pasta with her fork, "Speaking of which, what are the new rules this year?"

"Ah, well, if one of your tributes die, you all die." Arada dropped her spoon, and mumbled sorry. "Don't be! Everybody is nervous at this time."

"Are there any more rules?" Miley asked, ignoring Arada.

"Well, considering there is one more, the last one is that each person will be given a weapon before they fight." I nodded, and I saw Miley smile as well. The train lurched to a stop, and we heard screams and yells. We all rushed to the window and was amazed by how many people there are. Joseline called, "Come on girls! Best not keep them waiting!" Slowly, we exited the train's doors and walked into the main hall.

We all departed on our separate ways while Joseline stood in the middle of our intersections, waving. I entered the room, and examined it. The walls were gray with engraving of flowers and such. There was two stools, a lounger, a counter, a heavy locked wardrobe, and a table. For a second, I thought I was in the wrong room, but one of the stools suddenly twirled to reveal a man.

I gasped at how I didn't see him. There was no backing, after all, on the stool! He said in a low voice, "What do you think fashion is?"

I replied simply, "To have people admire your mind and style."

"Partially right. Fashion is creating your own you."

"But wouldn't that make you spend your precious time deciding what clothes make you, well, you?"

"No, that's what is special about humans, they follow their natural instinct." He glanced at me before getting off the stool, "Well, some of us."

I inspected his clothing, and saw he had a grey cloak that matched the walls. Inside, however, he wore a puffy green shirt with a very straight and almost skirt like brown pants.

As if reading my mind, he said, "Torture on what the Capitol puts us through."

I nodded, and I suddenly have the urge to ask, "What are we going to wear for our grand entrance?"

He raised his eyebrows, but continued on, "Since your district is based on plants, shouldn't it be like this tree outfit?" I nodded, but he shook his head. "No, let''s change the them this year."

"Isn't that disobeying the rules?"

"No, just finding another way. This year, we are going to dress you in camouflage."

"Just like you did?" He grinned, and I realized I just said that I could be easily tricked.

"Yes, I spoke with the other stylists and we agreed one of you shall be dirt, the other shrubs, and the last one water."

I was about to ask another question, but he cut me off, "Too many questions! Let's begin or we'll be late for the entrance this evening!" I said thanks, but he laughed, "Call me Kenny!"