The door swings shut behind the Peacekeeper, leaving me alone in the small room. This is my last destination in District Seven, I think to myself, my eyes glazing over as I stare at the back of the wooden door. My hands are still shaking, and I've clenched my fists so tight that my nails have left marks on my palms. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I lower myself into the light green seat at the far corner of the room.

The first thing I notice is how soft the chair is. I seem to almost sink into it, the pillow made of a soft velvet material. I didn't even know that there were items like this in District Seven. For a moment, I let myself relax and enjoy it. It helps me calm down and collect my thoughts. I don't want to be incoherent when I see the people I care about for the last time.

It only occurs to me a while later that I'm not the first person to have sat down here, and I won't be the last. My mind scans the list of 67 other people who have sat down in this room, maybe even in this chair. 60 of them, dead. Only seven males from my district have ever won, and one female. District Seven doesn't exactly have a track record of winners for the Games.

No, the odds are not in my favour.

Before I can dive even deeper into the hole of self-pity and fear, however, the door swings wide open. For a moment, I think the person standing in the doorway is Aspen. Same tall figure, curly dark hair and porcelain skin. But, where Aspen has hazel eyes, this woman's eyes are an indistinguishable grey. Like my eyes.

"Mom?"

I can tell I'm right by the way she looks at me, a melange of doubt and fear and remorse. For a moment, I'm not sure what I should do. Walk up and hug her? Turn her away? Yell at her?

Instead, I just stand there.

"Ellis…" she starts, and her voice is just how I remember it. Eloquent and poised. Just like mine. Llea says it makes me sound snobbish sometimes, but I think it's more striking on hers. It takes me a moment to realise that I haven't heard that voice for seven years. "I'm so sorry."

"For what, the fact that I got reaped, or the fact that you abandoned me?" I don't know where the biting retort comes from, perhaps it's the pent up anger at her and the sudden anger at the Capitol for everything. For the stupid games and for reaping me and for pulling people away from each other. For not letting normal people in Seven have velvet chairs and for not letting Llea see her parents and for everything in between.

She looks as if she's been slapped. "You're allowed to be mad at me."

"I know. I am."

"It was wrong of me to leave."

"Without a goodbye? Without a letter of explanation or incentive, nothing? Without telling us where you were going? Without assuring us that the reason you left wasn't because you didn't love us, or care about us? Yeah, real wrong, Mum."

Tears swarm in her eyes, and all the anger fades in a second. No. No, I don't want this. I don't want my situation to make me into a cold, harsh person like the ones you see on camera. I don't want to alienate someone who, deep down, I do still love.

"W-wait!" I say, worried she'll leave. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"No," she sighs, sitting down across from me and placing her hand on my knee. "You have every right to mean everything you said. I just want you to know that I love you and your sister, and I'd never leave because I didn't love you."

I don't ask why she left. Not now.

"You're so grown up." her voice is soft as she takes me in. "I only ever think of you as a boy."

"I'm not a little kid anymore, Mum."

"No, you're not." she looks up, identical eyes meeting. "But you're still too young for this. It isn't right."

"C'est la vie." I smile at her, slightly. It's something she taught me when I was a kid - a language I can hardly remember. Our family didn't hail from Panem, originally, and so small phrases from whatever language we originally spoke has been passed down through our generations. It's a secret, of course. Speaking like this is illegal.

"Mon chou," she replies, her voice barely audible. "Garde l'espoir."

"Yeah, mum. I will."

And then she's gone.

It takes a moment for me to realise what's happened. She came back. After seven years, she came back. And, as mad as I still am, I'm also happy. She must have been at the reaping. Which means she still cares.

The next person to walk through the door really is Aspen. She walks up, and without saying anything, wraps her arms around my shoulders, her sobs stifled by the fabric of my shirt.

"I s-shouldn't have said - I shouldn't h-have jinxed it. It's my fault."

I pull back. "Asp, no. It's not anyone's fault." Her hazel eyes are glistening, and in that moment, she looks even younger than me.

She sniffs. "And I'm supposed to be the one comforting you."

"You are. Kind of."

"Oh, Ellis."

I decide not to tell her about Mom, if just for now. I've got a feeing they'll see each other soon. "I'll be okay. I'll make sure it'll be quick."

"No."

"What?"

"No." The teary look on her face has changed into one of determination. "It won't be quick, because it won't happen at all. I'm not letting you die."

"Asp…" my voice falters. There's no way I'll survive, and she knows it. "There are so many people who know what they're doing. I'm weak. I can't even tie my own shoelaces properly, let alone kill someone."

"Well, guess you'll just have to double knot them, then." Despite myself, I smile. "You're making it out. Big sister's orders."

"You know I never listen to your authority."

Aspen shakes her head, a distant look in her eyes. "Then make this the first time you do. Got it?"

"Got it."

There's a hollow feeling in my chest as I watch her go, as if a part of me has been torn out and taken with her. I've always been around her. I watched her pick up the broken pieces of our lives seven years ago, and stick them back together. I watched her as she took two jobs just to feed us, and as she turned down her own social life, and her boyfriend, just to keep us alive. I watched her as she stitched a gash on my leg when I was twelve. I watched her smile as she accepted her new job, a job which she didn't love, but a job which she would make herself love, just for us.

And now, I'm watching her go.

I don't realise Llea's entered the room until I feel her arms wrap around me. It shocks me for a second, she's never been one for hugs. But as I turn around, I realise that she's not hugging me. She's putting something around my neck.

"Your pendant?"

"It's not like there's anything in it." she shrugs, her face completely determined. "It's your token, now."

"Wow, and I don't get a say? I kind of find it ugly."

"Classic Ellis Dogwood, ladies and gentlemen. Grateful for everything."

I let out a light chuckle. It's funny how Llea can make any situation into a bright one. "Y'know it."

"You okay?"

I raise my shoulders. "It's weird. I'm not actually terrified anymore. Is that normal?"

"I dunno, I've never been reaped before."

"I'll tell you, it's not very fun."

She lets out a light peal of laughter. "Keep the humour. The Capitol will love it."

"You think the Capitol's my best bet?"

"Hella, Ellis. I'm betting on you. And I'm not the betting type."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

She smiles again, but I can tell it's kind of forced. A moment passes, and this time she wraps her arms around me for real. "Come home safe, okay?"

"Okay, Llea." my voice is muffled, and I'm happy that she can't see how my eyes are tearing up. It's really been a rollercoaster of emotions over the past hour.

She pulls back, and I can tell her eyes are shining too. "I'll see you soon?"

"See you soon."

A standard goodbye.

But now that I've said it, I realise that I need to fulfil it.

I've never been in a car before, so the experience of sitting down on the leather seat is new. Manon sits across from me, her hands tightly clenched around a round object - her token, perhaps. Next to her, sits one of the two mentors we'll be getting this year, Vera Ash. She's a fairly tall woman, with pin straight dark hair pulled into a ponytail and fairly sharp features. I can't say I'm not intimidated by her, because I am, and it's not just because of her appearance. I'm not too familiar with her games, she won about 15 years ago, but I do know that she won by handcrafting all of her weapons - that year was the one where they didn't provide any. It doesn't seem that bad, we in Seven are unsurprisingly skilled when it comes to woodworks, but the fact that she had in fact created the items of people's demise makes me feel uncertain. Though, perhaps more, is the small piece of wood in her hand. Sure, I know it's not like she's going craft a weapon now and stab me, but the feeling remains.

"Ellis. Nice to meet you. I'm Vera, and I'll be mentoring your district parter, Manon. Though, if you do need any help, I'm here for you too. Blight should be here any second."

My heart falls. Blight? Blight, the stoic man of few words is going to be my mentor? His angle is going to directly clash with mine. Neither he, nor Vera ever relied on sponsors, which is practically my only hope.

Manon must notice how my face falls, because she tries for a comforting glance, but it kind of fails. I can understand that. Instead, she bites her lip and turns back to Vera. She's probably scared of me. I realise. I don't think walking up like I did is going to score me very many friendship points with her.

Though, I try to remind myself. I shouldn't want to be friends with Manon.

"Quentin is your son, right?" she asks Vera. A look of surprise flitters past her mentor's face, quickly replaced by a small nod.

"Fifi's taking care of him at home while I'm away. You know him?"

Manon nods. "He's in my gathering team." She's talking about our lumber groups, of course. We're split into teams of twelve in the summer, each put into a different location to gather as much as we can. I have a feeling Vera's going to like Manon a lot more.

A moment passes, and a peacekeeper raps on the window. Frowning, Vera looks at him, and turns back to us.

"I'll be a moment."

Manon and I exchange glances as she slides out of the car to attend to whatever it is the peacekeeper wants. There's a moment of awkward silence, as neither of us say anything.

"Are you okay?" It's lame, but it's all that I can muster.

"Y-yeah. No. I guess?" she shrugs, averting my gaze slightly. I sigh. So much for camaraderie."

A beat. And then she speaks up again.

"You were faking it, when you walked up to the stage, right?" It's obvious that she's been wondering about it from the way she says it, as if uncertain it'll backfire on her.

"No." I deadpan. "I'm totally excited to be sent into a death match, Manon. Totally."

It's the right thing to say, at the very least. She smiles slightly, a much larger improvement from when she was scared of me.
"Good. I thought you were a psychopath."

"Hm?" I give her a sly look. "Who knows I'm still not, huh?"

"Me." she's really smiling this time. "I can tell."

"You're meeting all my standards for friendship." I joke. "You can tell psychopaths from non-psychopaths. What next? Are you going to tell me that you can cook. Because hell, if you can, I might just make you my new best friend."

Her face falls, and I internally slap myself. Shoot, was that too far? I've totally alienated myself now, haven't I?

"Friends?" she sounds uncertain, brushing white-blonde strands behind her ears. "But, what about … y'know? Are friends a good idea?"

I let the joking tone disappear. "I don't know. But I want at least someone to talk to, don't you?"

She looks out the window to Vera. "Yeah. I do."

"So," I force myself to keep my voice upbeat. "Let's make a pact. Save the Games-ey stuff to the mentors. We're just going to be normal friends, from now on."

"Is that really how friendship works?"

"Who makes the rules? I say we try to forget the games, when we're together. Even if we don't ally, let's still be friends. At least for a week."

"At least for a week." Manon echoes. "Friends."

I smile at her, just as Vera slips into the car. She looks slightly off, as if something's ruffled her feathers.

"Change of plan, we'll meet your mentor at the train. Warning you two, at the station, there'll be cameras. Whatever you do, keep your image constant." She's looking at me. Seems like I'll have to keep up the charming boy attitude.

Turns out, she's right. There were a lot of cameras. My cheeks ache from all the smiling and posing by the time I get into the train, and Manon looks equally as exhausted. I'm about to just flop down into one of the plush sofas lining the hallway, when someone catches my eyes. It's Persephone and another man, one that I don't recognise at first. I was expecting Blight, but instead there's another mentor standing there.

Kiln Flitch was the victor of the 52nd Games, and I don't know much about his either - other than the fact that he had a hit list of only two, and that he was pretty popular with the Capitol. Which bodes very well for me. He's got quite long blonde hair (surprisingly, that's uncommon in Seven), blue eyes and quite a strong jaw. Next to Vera, he seems hardly professional at all.

"You're a smart kid." he says, and it takes a moment to realise that the words are directed at me. "Got a game plan already, huh?"

I look at him with confusion. "More spur-of-the-moment, actually."

"Well, it worked. I wanted you. Swapped out with Blight."

"You want me?" I'm surprised. I'm hardly much to go on. I'm hardly handy with an axe, except for the usual talents, and I don't exactly have any endurance. "Why?"

"Because you'll get sponsors." he looks at Manon. "You too, if you put it on like Ellis. You're good looking enough, girl."

I'm surprised. I didn't expect Kiln to be this forward. He's usually quite detached back home, and keeps to himself in is house, designing buildings and such. Still, I can see something in his eyes. Oh. He has hope for us, this time.

"What, am I not good looking?" It's a joke, and Manon picks up on, sniggering slightly. A look flashes on his face, of slight confusion and annoyance. Vera picks up on the sarcasm too, and I can tell even she's slightly amused. Eventually, Kiln gets it.

"Keep the sarcasm. Change the hair."

I pull a face, and turn to Manon. "Everyone keeps insulting my hair. Is it really that bad?"

She smiles. "I like your hair."

"See. I'm going to trust my friend."

Both Kiln and Vera look surprised. "Friends? You two are allying already?"

"We don't know." Manon speaks up, instead of me."But we're friends at least."

Friends at least.

Good, Manon. Good. Don't let the Games change who you are because you're scared. Keep on living. Even if it's just a week. Keep on smiling if you want to. Don't let them stop you. Make friends. Make enemies. (Actually, don't make enemies. You might want to keep yourself from being doomed.)

Don't let the games stop you being you.

AhahahahaHAHAH I haven't updated for like 20 days I'm soz. But this one's a little longer, so maybe that makes up for it? Hm?

Ah, probably not. But I hope you like it!

The mentors belong to 'wild goat' (quality name 20/10) and 'Declan42'. Thanks for the characters, guys.

As for the people who submitted tributes, no worries, they'll be featured soon. Though, I really would like some more kiddos. I've had a GRAND total of three submissions, all girls, and I'd love some more! Send in TWO if ya wanna. I dunno if it's the lack of POV, or the fact that they ain't gonna win which is putting you guys off. But hey, just letting you know!

also yeah ellis is now french bc why the fuck not ammirite

Mmmkay, that's about it. See you, hopefully, sooner, this time!