Heys!!!! Thanx for reviewing!!!!!!!!! Did you think you'd go crazy with suspense? Even though I update nearly every day? Disclaimer: Unless I have multiple identity disorder, I'm not Suzanne Collins. I'm not that blonde naturally. Safira's thoughts are still in italics. And I still want reviews. I've been sick, so it's been a while from updates.

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Chapter Three: Smile for the Camera

When I get out of the car, I am shocked. So... many... cameras. All of Panem is going to see me. My fear. I may have convinced my head, but I'm not sure about anything else. With my eyes, even if tears don't emerge, you could read the fear in my eyes. Even if you didn't know what the colors of my irises meant. Oh well, I can pull a Johanna Mason, I think. Johanna Mason acted scared and helpless, causing everyone to ignore her. Then, when only a couple tributes were left, she showed her true colors. She could kill ferociously. She ripped part of someone's neck out. With her teeth. Anyway, I'll try and pull that off. If I don't die from anxiety first. As soon as I see the inside of the train, my jaw drops. It's so big. I can't believe it.

Then I see my parents. They're just standing there, waiting for James and me. I resist every urge to run and hug them. It wouldn't be fair to James. My parents told me early on that there wouldn't be any benefit to them being mentors. They would, however, help me as much as they can. They will try to keep me not just alive, but safe in the Hunger Games. This should comfort me, but it makes me worry for James's life. Why am I worrying? I don't even know him, much less like him. Butsomething in my head says that's not true. He isn't a complete stranger. I've seen him at school.

I laugh to myself. My first day of school was very....interesting. I'm the first Victor's child in District 12, so the Peacekeepers weren't sure I should go. They even put it up to a vote! And because of the vote and because of my parents, I was instantly classified as arrogant, full of myself; the list goes on and on.

After about half a day of torment, the teacher asked everyone to come up and sing the valley song, a song I knew extremely well. I walked up to the front of the room, and I started to sing. I even surprised myself. All went quiet. Tears rolled down everyone's cheeks. Even mine. When I finished, it was earth-shatteringly quiet. Suddenly, the high, clear, tear-jerking notes come back. The mockingjays had heard my song. And they were singing it back to me, telling me they loved my voice, and, when it ended, that they wanted to hear more. James answered them by walking up to the front, and starting to sing. The world fell silent again. His voice was lower than mine, but only slightly. It was beautiful. I was gone. I loved him.

You still do, says that small voice. I finally give in to it. I decide I should name it, so I call her Rose. Because roses are the exact opposite of sapphires, yet look perfect together.

My mom pulls me from my thoughts. I realize I have fallen down. Everyone is around me. I look into James' silver-blue eyes. I start to feel all warm inside. Rose is taking over. Rose, like it or not, he'll have to die for us to survive.

My mom tells me to get up, and go to my quarters. I finally get my own. I've always had to share with my parents. It was fine, up until I turned 10. I really didn't want to sleep in the same room as my parents. I wanted to stay home that year. But my parents made me.

They are weird at night. They talk to each other. In their sleep! I still remember one conversation. "Katniss, I love you", my father would say. "I love you too, Peeta", my mother would respond. They were asleep, you could tell. Because how it sounds is something like this, "IwuvuCatnip" and "IwuvutooPeeta".

When I get to my quarters, I stop and stare. The sapphire velvet from the Justice Building is back. I hear my mother try to sneak up on me. It works in our house, where no one wears shoes. But here, she wears high heels. And the floors are marble, so I hear her 10 minutes before she even comes close. She tells me that they did it special, just for me. "Get ready for dinner", my mom says.

I open the drawer and find a green shirt and tight pants that I like, and put them on. I nearly kill myself trying to get the pants on. I take off my pin and put it on my shirt. I also find cute little shoes that make me look about 2 inches taller. Not exactly like the high heels Lidia and my mother wear, but close. I take a deep breath and walk out.

There is so much food. A light salad with chicken and oranges, fillet mignon (when the Capital assistant asked James how he took it, he said dead and on a plate, which of course, we all laughed at), chicken and wild rice, grilled lamb and mint sauce, lamb stew with dried plums on white grain (when the Capitol assistants set it in front of us, both my mother and I said simultaneously "Bless you, kind souls!", as it's our absolute favorite dish), chocolate cake, which James stares at, pure lust in his eyes, lemon ice, strawberry ice cream, chocolate-covered strawberries in a vanilla mousse and much more. James stuffed it down like there was no tomorrow, where as I ate slowly and only a little bit of each course.

It's because of how we were raised. I've not only had enough to eat all my life, but have been taught how to eat like a Capitol sadist. James hasn't. He knows how to use a fork and knife, but he has had to eat as fast as he can to ensure survival. I feel sorry for him. He's only 12. He's had a hard life already. His father is severely sick. His mother, his poor, poor mother, is so heartbroken, she can't even see straight. She's so scared for Gale. It's an old disease. Older than Panem itself. They called it H1N1, or the Swine Flu. It was pretty bad then, but it's basically is a death sentence now. The last case of it was over 200 years ago. They tried to Quarantine him, but it was no use. You could easier make a fish climb a tree than isolate Gale Hawthorne.

As soon as dinner is over, we go to our quarters. As soon as I get in there, I take a shower. We have three at home, one for each of our bathrooms, but they are the standard models. These are the Capitol models, with 247 different settings. I find my regular settings, rose shampoo, stargazer lily body mist and ocean breeze perfume, and relax as the hot water jets massage my back. I came across my scent by accident, pushing random buttons, and it turned out that it all smelled incredible. So, ever since then, it's became my trademark scent. Everybody asks me how I get that scent. But I never tell them. Just like I never tell anyone that I'm scared or upset.

I don't have many real friends. Just a lot of people who try to get close to me because of who I am. Or, more accurately, who my parents are. People treat me like I'm a carbon copy of my parents, nothing more, nothing less. I wish I could break away from my parents. I want to be Safira Rue Onyx Electra Mockingjay Nightingale Mellark, my full name, not "The Mellark Girl". I want people to like me for me. Not because my parents are famous.

My name is so long because they thought my mom was going to have twins. And she did. The other was a stillborn. And the heartbreaking truth is that she looked exactly like my father. Except, she had silver eyes. Just like I look exactly like my mother, only I have blue eyes. They were going to name her Rue Electra Nightingale and me Safira Onyx Mockingjay. So, when they confirmed her dead, I got all of her names. But instead of sticking them right on the end of my name, they alternated my original names with hers. Giving me 6 names, not including my last name.

Every year, on my birthday, we celebrate me being older and mourn Rue. This year, we mourned me turning 12. We knew that I would be going into the Games. We knew that 12 year old tributes never win. My parents knew they would probably have to bury their other daughter soon. Their last remaining daughter. Gone. Forever.