The Fear.

I been worryin' that we all live our lives in the confines of fear.

Katerine Holloway, District Twelve Female.

"Come along Katerine, it's time to get you beautified!" the stylist chirps, much like a bird.

I follow along, though, since I know there isn't much point in fighting it or even trying to run. I would run, actually, and I wouldn't even deny it. I could run and run, without looking back, but where would it get me? I couldn't run all the way home and I don't even know why I'm debating it in my mind, like I'd have a shot at escaping the Capitol's clutches. The stylist guides me along the halls and then she points at a door. She doesn't say anything; only pointing with a sharp nail. I hold my breath and twist the doorknob.

I'm instantly bombarded by a group of colourful people, their hands roaming my body. I panic for a moment, freezing like an animal in headlights as they throw me behind a curtain.

"Take your clothes off, dear," someone chirps once more, voice far too peppy for my liking. "Otherwise we can do it for you."

I quickly climb out of my clothes, a longing in my heart as I leave the last piece of District Twelve on the small table. I emerge naked, a towel wrapped around my body, and am instantly pushed onto the table. Someone starts to grab hold my hair and I freeze up once more; they pull on it and begin to lather water and a sweet-smelling liquid into it. They hum and discuss something quietly.

"Sweetie, your hair is rather fine," one says lightly. "There are loads of bald patches."

My body tenses and goes rigid. I force myself to nod in response and allow them to work on me silently.

"Did you know, Katerine, that your mentor this year will be Crispin? I think it's wonderful that you'll get the most recent Victor to mentor you," the same one who comments on hair, says once more. "He'll be able to teach you everything you need to know."

How to hide, basically. That's all he did; nothing spectacular. It was a clever idea, that much is certain, but not everyone can do the same. I'm also positive that the Careers will hold a grudge against District Twelve for winning last year, particularly District One after losing their competitor so easily. If anything, that makes mine and Colton's chances a lot less. Colton seemed okay, actually - he was scared, naturally, but so was I and I'm not even a timid person in nature. I doubt we'll be allies; the moment he got on the train, he went to his room to "nap". Someone that lazy couldn't be trusted in the arena, but nonetheless, I won't be wishing for his blood to be spilt, even though it needs to be for my survival.

"We're all done now, what do you think?" the woman says, face almost in mine. She holds up a mirror, and I can see a whole new girl. "Well, thoughts?"

I smile. "Thank you."

"It's no problem, but it's time you go and meet the master to your piece."

"Wha-"

I'm pushed off the table, and the little birds flutter out the room, chirping and cheering at their work. I must have been horrid, obviously. I turn around at the sink, clean and pristine, marred with strands of my hair. I'm almost fascinated by it; they were so close to finding ou- no, no I can't think like that. They didn't, they wouldn't, just no. The door opens again and I feel the air become thick.

"Girl, sit."

My eyes widen and I turn to the woman, large and round, hair falling down in light blue spirals. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, sit." her voice is more of a growl.

So, I do, hands in my lap. She circles me like a bird to prey, eyeing me up. I instantly shrink under the watch and she hums, but not in agreement but more of disappointment. Does she know? Is she looking at me in disgust?

"Hmm, I suppose this'll do. I'm not dubbed the master for taking on easy work, and this, but far, won't be easy."

Lena Romero, District Eleven Female.

"Will you stop fighting it!"

"Make me," I growl, crossing my arms across my chest. The man sighs, holding my chariot outfit in his arms. He opens his mouth and I place my hand up. "Fine, on the condition you leave the room."

"I need to make adjustments if it's wrong!"

"I'll tell you if it's wrong!" I argue. "Now, leave!"

He makes a disgruntled noise, throwing me the outfit and commenting something about respect and that. I don't really care; I tuned him out the movement he started to tell me what to do. I'm not against authority - far from it - but since the show is all about me, apparently, I should be allowed to throw a fit if I'm not happy. After all, the Capitol will murder him if he messes up, not me, they've already sussed that one out by reaping me. I know it was Peacekeeper Hector's fault. He's always had a grudge against me for no apparent reason. I done what I did for reasons; reasons that adults will never understand.

I slowly slip myself into the outfit, groaning when I find out that, once again, it's a scarecrow. Oh, but a scarecrow with a difference. This scarecrow outfit is a checkered shirt and with tiny, miniscule denim shorts, no doubt to glorify my age and gender. I wonder if Bracken's got the same? He's muscular and lean for his age - only a year younger - so maybe his is full of sex appeal, too? I don't know. I stand there, when a tiny knock pounds on the door.

"Do you need adjustments?"

I smirk. "Yes, everything. I'm small for my age, not a hippo!"

I can hear him squeak in apparent response and he scutters away, footsteps tiny and barely audible until he disappears. I smile, more deflated this time. I really don't want to be here. I can't afford to be here, to not come home; all the children, my tiny little children, they all need me. They wouldn't be able to cope in the conditions they live. I was whipped for them; and I'd do it again. I'd do anything, bend my heart and soul for them and more. My hand traces my back rather awkwardly, over the many tiny bumps and scars. Anything for them.

The door swings open.

"I will fix it!"

"It's not broken," I shake my head, rolling my eyes. "It's fine. Glorified, but fine."

"I'm trying to make you stand out amongst twenty-two others!" he argues back.

"Does that mean Bracken has something similar?"

He smirks. "Oh yes, most definitely. You will die once you've seen what Bracken is wearing."

"Is that suppose to be a hint? Cause, you know, I think you don't need to be explaining the rules of the Hunger Games to me. I think everyone understands only one lives."

He gasps again. "I am so sorry! I did- I mean, I didn't mean to make you feel not- well, not appreciated."

He is so flustered and bright pink, it's very amusing. The man is a simple Capitolite; life untainted or even affected by the Hunger Games. All he has to worry about is what clothes to wear the next day and to keep up with the latest, most ridiculous fashion trend that the Capitol has to offer their little pets. He sits down, fanning himself with his hand. The drama has escalated to him hyperventilating and more than likely having a panic attack. I'm the one that could possibly be dying in a few days, and he is the one that is breathing heavily and acting like there is no air? Ignorant, the lot of them.

Ezra Zinnia, District Ten Male.

The bright lights shower down on the chariots, golden and shimmering, horses white and black and brown, a mixture to everything. I don't know why, but I'm stunned by the sight; something so pretty before something so gritty. It's a right contrast, but I guess that's the point. Lylac ushers me out, her hands lightly on my shoulders.

"It'll be okay, don't be scared," she whispers into my ear. "Be... be brave."

I nod and gulp down the large lump in my throat, willing my feet forward. Serena comes out the elevator next to us, Sunny stood by her side, impatient. Serena seems much more collected than I assumed from her; her image and looks lead a stereotype, well, at least for me it did. I imagined her crying or breaking down, but she's held strong and semi-confident. Sunny guides her to the chariot that must be ours.

"Lylac, you can leave, it'll be fine." I reassure her. She turns and frowns. "I promise. I'm a big boy."

She smirks, a very knowing smirk. I admitted the truth to Lylac - I didn't really have a choice after my stylist and everything blurted it out to her. It's true, I was born a female and still am a female, but I wear male clothes and have short hair. It's a complexity I've had since I was young; I always felt in the wrong body. Of course, I went to my mom, and she helped me become semi of what I wanted. I couldn't physically become a boy; but mentally and outwardly, I could. I've always been both insecure and light about it all, making jokes and that to ease the unsettling mood. Lylac nods again, turning back to the elevator.

It's ironic I was reaped as a male, though. To get work and earn money for my poor family, I had to be proven as a boy. It's hard, ridiculously hard, for females to gain any kind of work within District Ten - most farmers prefer hard-working, butch males to do the load, not feminine girls. So, my mom simply claimed at the Justice Building that she had recently looked over my birth certificate - so I could work - and found an error; it said I was a female, when I clearly looked like a male. District Ten has always had lacking Peacekeepers, so seeing them in person never aroused any concerns. I was changed to a boy.

"Just stay neutral," Sunny tells Serena warmly. "No smiles and no waving. Look tough and mysterious. Ignore what that prat of a district partner does - only one can win."

"I'm offended," I say when I near, causing Sunny to sigh angrily. "I'm no prat."

Sunny doesn't reply as Serena climbs onto the chariot silently. I can tell almost instantly that me and Serena won't get along - we might be similar, but there will always be something that keeps us apart. It's no major loss; as Sunny said, only one may live. I could try small talk, but what's the point? What can me and Serena bond over without me revealing to her that I'm a girl? Nothing, because I can't. Lylac said that letting people know, means the Capitol will find out, and being tricked won't look too good on them. I have to stay secretive.

Five minutes.

I look up at the noise and climb in after Serena. There's a thick tension between us and I try to shrug it away, the cotton from my sheep costume tilting. My eyes scan the other tributes out of interest and a mixture of wanting to find some allies. That's when she emerges, a beautiful, blonde-haired girl, large, crystal blue eyes staring into space. Her costume is something of a bird; colourful feathers and patterns, but still looking relatively pretty. She's just plain pretty. She makes it work.

She crosses the room and climbs onto the chariot two in front. District Eight. Challis, I think her name was. Her partner looks none to pleased as he climbs in next to her, angrily swiping at the feathers that stick out of place or fall into his eyes. She turns, large eyes glossed over, and she finds me. I crack a smile and she responds, much more brighter than mine.

One minute.

I scan the area and notice some more tributes; District Seven are billowing willows, outfits a diluted grey and sage coloured leaves hanging from their arms, legs and hat. The two small children from District Three are giant remotes, outfits large and boxy, red and yellow buttons scattered across their chests. Another one catches my eye. A small, redhead girl, walking and climbing up onto her chariot, outfit shimmering underneath the light. It's silver and glassy looking, a thick, black tyre for a hat. Transportation. District Six.

The doors slide open teasingly and our chariot lurches forward.

Smile, Ezra, smile.

Quinlan Nour, District Nine Male.

The boy from Eight growls loudly above the noise of a cheering audience. I crack a smirk as his chariot lurches forward, catching him off-balanced. He flounders forward, smacking his chest into the metal bars meant to keep us up. He swears, once again very loud, and his district partner is visibly intimidated.

I turn to Fay as our chariot follows forward. She doesn't look as scared as I thought she would; her body is tense and held strong, and I can see the way her eyes waver, but she's holding better than I thought. But that doesn't prove anything; just because she's holding on strong now, doesn't mean she can handle the arena or even training. Poor Fay; she's a bloodbath and she doesn't even know it. I'm not saying I'll make it - though it's likely - but Fay has proven that she's not capable nor ready.

Worse of all, on the train, Bailey and Buck tried to get us to pair up together. I remember Fay staying quiet, staring into her food. I downright refused, telling both the mentors clearly that I will win and I'll do it alone; I wasn't having Fay dragging me down because she's not capable. Besides that, I chose to ignore whatever Bailey or Buck said.

The sound of cheering increases and a blinding light takes away my vision.

I peel my eyes open after a few seconds, the array of colours in the crowd bounding up and down in excitement. Stupid people. They find this all fun? How about they come down here and try it out? I hear a few names get called out - Fawn, Ransom, Percival, Theon, Serena, Ewan and a few more. I don't hear mine nor Fay's, and I don't hear Ezra. Out of all the reapings, beside Fay and myself, Ezra was the only name I remembered. Why? Well, who wouldn't remember the feminine boy climbing onto the stage? His name will go down in history whether he wins or dies, more likely the latter.

I turn around and admire his outfit just carefully, alongside his district partner.

They're sheep; white suits, white headgear, everything to resemble fluffy cotton. I would laugh at them if I thought it'd make me feel better - but it wouldn't, because me and Fay are dressed as sugar cane, brown dotted with white and flowering hats. Everyone but the Careers and maybe a district like Six look ridiculous.

Favouritism. Poor favouritism. I don't care if they deny it, it's obvious. Careers are the Capitol's little pets, whilst Six has that eighteen year old, a guy who will no doubt woo the ladies from his obvious masculinity.

The chariots slow down a tad as we near the circle. Each chariot parts in a different direction, and as Eight go right, we go left.

I find myself staring at the Seven chariot, a clear contrast in the male and female. She's short and looks reasonably scared - not overly terrified, but scared - whilst he looks angry and cocky, all rolled into one. He winks at some woman in the audience, and she spectacularly faints at the mere action. Another idiot, obviously.

President Esmeralda Snow stands up, proceeding to her podium. Her white dress flows greatly and a white rose, tinted with emerald green, sits in both her hair and dress pocket. The last chariot, District Twelve in the infamous miner costumes, rolls in and sits opposite us. I stare at the male and female once more whilst President Snow begins her speech.

I hear her mention several things about the Dark Days and the darker times when her grandfather ruled.

She smiles and welcomes us like we came here by choice. I scoff and try to keep my eyes everywhere but her. The almighty President is nothing more than a woman who hides behind a podium and a name. Five minutes within a district as poor as Nine and she would have an aneurism. In fact, she's never, ever came to District Nine as far as I know - most likely because of Buck being a fated figure. I would have known if she bothered; my mother would instantly tell me, her job as a Peacekeeper being dignified. How does she feel now, knowing her son is in the Games? She probably doesn't care - her darling daughter will keep her satisfied concerning children.

My father, on the other hand, was over the moon. Working in District Two for some time, he wanted a Career child very enthusiastically, and trained me like one. I'm not a Career, though. I might have run hard a few hours a week, but that was it; I quickly grew disinterested and shunned his attitude. Just another reason to prefer Azelie over me. She'll be whatever they want her to be. Frankly, I'm glad to be away from them all.

Anubis Cotton, District Eight Male.

The moment our chariot goes through the Remake Center's doors once more, I sigh heavily. Stupid costume and stupid stylist. I told her over and over again, the feathers are ridiculous but she wouldn't listen. Challis just smiles sadly from my side.

"What now?" I growl as we come to a stop.

"Nothing," she squeaks. "The lights are really bright."

"Well done genius," I roll my eyes, watching Velvet and Chiffon come over, neutral expressions. "Get me away from here now."

"Don't be snarky." Chiffon warns.

"Bite me." I reply.

I jump off the chariot, hitting the ground with a thump. A few feathers come loose, floating to the floor around us. Challis kindly accepts Velvet's hand and lowers herself onto the floor. I turn around, watching the Careers begin to gather with a few of their mentors. The female from One and the boy from Two talk quietly, and not far from them, District Four argues and bickers, mentors stood behind their respective tribute and watching with heated glares. These are the people we should fear? Honestly, they look like nothing more than brats. Looking at the boy from One fills me with a burning disgust; him, a Career? Someone needs to build a bridge and then cross it, because he's way in over his head, and that much is obvious.

"Anubis Cotton, come on." Chiffon snaps her fingers at me like a dog.

Anubis Cotton. Even I hate my own name. Anubis is something so powerful and dreadful - a name meaning death - whilst my last name is Cotton, something bland and distasteful. It pretty much sums up my family; a family with wealth on their side, children with odd names combined with the tacky family name. Maybe it's to show contrast or maybe it's to show how they try to be better than other people, but lack of the obvious brains for the task.

I follow, despite not wanting to. Chiffon and Challis climb into their respective elevators, whilst I follow Velvet into mine. She doesn't say anything; mild and meek Velvet isn't all that prepared for this job, so why say something when she knows the odds? I have a chance, though, a higher than normal chance. Challis, on the other hand, is so pretty and clueless, it's like she was labelled for the bloodbath. The elevator hums as it ascends onto our floor.

"I'm going to enter the Careers," I state plainly, watching Velvet turn to me with a mixture of disgust and confusion in her eyes. "You heard me. I'm going to join the Careers this year. Screw it, I'll be leader of the Careers. They all look so pathetic, I might as well spice it up otherwise it'll look bad on them."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Velvet asks quietly.

"The greatest idea, dear Velvet," I smirk. "My ideas are never bad."

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Velvet seems too shocked to move her legs forward, and I quickly depart and leave her in the wake of my announcement. The doors for the other elevator open up, too, but I ignore them. I grab an apple off the table and walk to my room, also ignoring Chiffon calling after me.

Nearly every year, District Eight is a joke. We make textiles, clothes for people, and we're often or not thought of us as poor and useless. Without us, everyone would be naked, have they thought about that? Nobody needs District Seven, for example. Trees are everywhere; they don't need an entire district dedicated to it. This year, District Eight won't be a joke. This year, District Eight will be memorable. This year, the Careers will have a proper, more calculating leader. I fall on my bed and smirk, taking a bite of the apple.

This year will be the greatest of them all; after all, Anubis has finally arrived.

Laurel Aston, District Seven Female.

I watch with amusement as Ewan sits there, hand propping up his head, sweet talking the avox, Kelliana. His eyes are charming and wide, smile pressed into a flirtatious smirk. Does he even realise that Kelliana can't speak? Probably does - I expect the mayor's son to have many upon many catering for the family. When I stood on the stage, I knew from the name who he was; I just didn't expect him to be as vicious as he seemed. Then, we get here, I learn that Ewan isn't as bad as he seems.

"Ewan, behave," Maple rolls her eyes from across the table as she butters her piece of bread. "She isn't going to reply."

Ewan just glares, but by the time he looks back, the much older Kelliana has disappeared from sight and mind.

"Thanks, Maple."

"No problem kid." Maple falsely smiles.

I keep in the background and watch the pair converse slowly, despite the fact that Maple assigned herself to me whilst Spruce chose Ewan. Then again, where even is Spruce? Probably either sleeping in or flirting with Kelliana straight after. Something I've learned almost instantly - Ewan and Spruce were cut from the same cloth. I smirk as Maple looks at me.

"Oi, kid, you got anything interesting you want to share too?" she asks with a laugh in her voice.

"Nope," I shake my head. "You can continue talking about Ewan's failed attempt at that."

Ewan glares at me and I smile in response. "Be quiet, pipsqueak."

"No thanks." I wink.

Spruce's laugh cuts through the air, and as I turn around, he stands proud at the doorway to his bedroom. His hair is ruffled and his night shirt is askew. Maple frowns and points out his dreadful attire, but he waves it off and clambers into the seat next to Ewan rather sluggishly. We sit and eat for a while - Spruce a lot louder than the rest of us - and me and Maple strike up a conversation on strategies. I plan to go in on my own; it sounds stupid because of my age, but I've always been a tad reckless, and if so, I don't want someone else to suffer because of it. Maple soon ushers us up and Spruce waves lazily as me and Ewan enter the elevator.

"Any ideas for allies?" I ask once the doors are closed.

Ewan shrugs carelessly and smirks. "Not really. But, you know, whatever happens, happens. I won't be chasing anyone to join me; they'll have to ask as kindly as possible."

"What was that noise?"

"What noise?"

"Oh, it was just the sound of your head getting bigger," I joke, watching Ewan's smirk become more defiant and wider. He playfully smacks me as the doors opens. "Good luck."

Ewan ruffles my hair. "And you. Just remember, though, that I'm about to steal the show, and you better be prepared."

"What do you mean by that?" I ask as innocently as I can sound - I understand, but it's much more amusing to find out if Ewan thinks of himself as highly as he seems to act it. He smirks once again and seems to understand my words, too. "Okay, I'm sorry. Have fun."

Ewan walks off with a stride in his step towards the group of tributes. I follow, warily, and eye each one up. The girl from Eight seems to stare around with wide, glossy eyes, whilst her district partner holds his posture tall and mighty, a confident smirk on his face. The little kids from Three stand next to each other, silently arguing and whispering, all in one. The boy is my age, I know that, but the girl is the youngest of all the tributes. The head trainer introduces himself as Maestro, and from his looks and standing, I can tell he's young and new.

"Today will be the first day of what could be your saviour," Maestro starts. "Your life will be saved from something in this room. I suggest you find it and try."

Theon Sykes, District Six Male.

Maestro stays on the stage, but dismisses us quickly. I'm also confused - shouldn't our induction be a bit more lengthy?

Everyone scatters in different directions, desperate to find that thing that Maestro says will save us.

I close my eyes and try my hardest to stop staring at the two little kids from District Three as they ran towards the gauntlet. They are two of the three youngest - alongside the girl from Seven - but seem much smaller and frail. Every time I stare at either of them, I can only ever think of Keane and Robyn, possibly what they might grow up to be. Both of them are young, not even really toddlers, but they could look like those two. My heart yearns for the family I've created, and right at this moment, I know what it's like to be one of the parents watching their child walk to the stage. What if in a few years, Keane gets reaped? Or even Robyn?

I shake my head and try to remember the picture Keane had drew me this morning - he handed it to me as my token. It was of me and Savannah, Keane's tiny hand latched into mine and Robyn, folded up in blankets, in Savannah's arms. Our perfect family before it was ripped apart.

No. No, don't think like that. You will go home because you have what it takes. To think, by winning, I could provide better for them.

My hand wraps around the mace and pulls it off the handle. It's pretty light compared to what I thought, and with a heavy swing, I bring it behind my shoulder and then slam it forward. It slams against the ground and causes it to quake just a little bit. I smirk, and try again, putting more strength into it. I push thoughts of my children away and try to focus more on my actions. After a while, I put it back, collecting a sword and trying again. I slice a dummy and watch as white, fluffy cotton rains to the floor.

My eyes scan around as I look up, and I notice Justice's bright red hair in the corner, eyes focusing in on the poisonous plants section.

"Attention tributes!" Maestro shouts. "A new station has been organised. It's suggested you take a look - it could be vital."

I frown and place the sword back. No other tribute seems particularly interested in the announcement since none stopped and looked, but as I walk over to the new station, I notice the boy from Five already there. Stellan, I think his name was.

"What's this then?" Stellan asks the trainer.

"These are animals, boy," the trainer growls in response. "You learn them and find out about them. You never know, it could be a hint."

"You know service is suppose to be done with a smile, right?"

The trainer just growls and walks away from the station, taking a seat. Stellan flicks through the book that was handed to him and I stand by his side, curiously watching over his shoulder. Stellan smirks and places the book in the middle of us. I glance down at the book, then up to his eyes, and then his hair - it doesn't seem as bright as it did on the television.

"If you wanted to share, all you had to do was ask." Stellan says, a smirk evident in his smile.

"Thanks," I respond and flick the next page, scanning what seems to be a bird with large, thin legs and bright, pink feathers. "I'm Theon, by the way."

"Stellan," he responds. "And that's a flamingo."

"How'd you know?"

Stellan taps the side of his nose and smiles confidently. "Become my ally and I guess you'll find out."

India Cross, District Five Female.

I watch as the boy from Eleven runs down the gauntlet. My eyes are wide, and standing alongside the little children from Three, I clap when he lands on the next platform. I shouldn't be cheering on the competition; but when he done as good as he did, you can't help it. He takes a bow, playing up to the attention and smirking, before walking away and kicking over a rubber cylinder for the track. The little girl goes next and manages to get about quarter of the way, before a soft paddle swings into her back and she flounders towards the floor. She gets up, unfazed, and watches her district partner get just a little further than her, before the paddle finds his knees and forces him to bow onto the floor.

"You up next, girl?" the trainer asks, a mixture of a growl and a rasp.

I nod in response and walk to the beginning. The woman helps me up with a calloused hand, and I stand, legs and arms ready to pump.

"Nervous?" she rasps again.

"Very, very nervous," I reply honestly. "Did you know you sound like a man? You might want to drink some water or something, your voice is going croaky an-"

A buzzer rings, startling me out of my words. I run, pumping my arms and legs, leaping across the small gap and landing perfectly. Easy enough; so I go again, this time, a white paddle flying up, clipping me in the shoulder. I fall, landing on the next platform, still in the game. I mentally cheer myself and stand up, surprised to see another paddle come flying at my face. I don't have time to dodge, and it smacks me in the face, forcing me to the floor. This time I can't stay on, sliding off and landing on the mat below.

"Out!" the woman calls. "Boy, you're next."

I blink a few times and stand up, noticing the boy from Nine move along quickly, a bored look on his face. He turns and smirks at me as he climbs up, not accepting help. He waits a moment, the trainer says go, and he runs. He leaps the first and second platforms easily, dodging the paddles almost animal-like, but when he reaches the third, a paddle flies into his gut. He winces, but carries on, skipping over three, four and five with ease. The last platform, six, is a surprise, and two paddles come out and double smack him around the head. He staggers and falls off, not completing the course.

"And you thought you could do better," I say as dusts down his outfit. "Your smirk shouldn't have said otherwise. In all honesty, I think it's rather rude of you to judge me on my performance."

"Whatever." he rolls his eyes.

I narrow my own and step forward as he begins to stand up. "That's rude also. I get it, you're mean, but there's no need to be a jerk to complete strangers."

"Do you honestly hear yourself?" he laughs.

I stand my ground and clench my fists, not one for violence normally. He walks away with swaying arms and head held high, going towards his district partner. She visibly shrinks when he reaches her, trying to blend in with the station she's chosen to go to. He doesn't do or say anything; she does it on almost impulse. My head is filled with many questions and I begin to walk over casually, spotting the boy from Twelve watching me from his sat down position in the corner.

"Hi, I'm India," I say when I get near, not surprised to see the girl's eyes widen in shock.

She doesn't say anything for a while, a calm pause between us, before she speaks up timidly. "Fay."

"Well, Fay, I think we could be friends," I smile. "Yeah?"

Fay nods in a confused response and I hear a boy laugh from nearby. I turn to see her district partner, once more, staring from afar with his eyes locked on both me and Fay. Without warning, my middle finger rises and shows off to him, before my other hand wraps around Fay's shoulders and leads her away. She is my ally, now, and I'll do what I can to protect her.

Percival Harlin, District Four Male.

Our alliance is pretty pathetic, in all honesty. You have Kit, nothing but an athletic, over-excited child. Fawn, who looks like she might break if she even stood up too quickly. Ransom, with his odd kindness and Minerva, who seems kinda okay but relatively snobby. Then, to top it off, Odette; aggressive, bitchy, like an animal. Really, who the hell would be our leader? I certainly don't want that - the leader gets turned on quite quickly and frankly, I'm probably too good for the post. Fawn, Kit and Ransom are easily a no, whilst no-one would trust Minerva or Odette.

Basically, our alliance this year seems to be odd and very different. No-one is going to get on, because for each positive, there's about ten negatives.

I stand there in the middle of the room, watching each of my allies do something. Ransom and Minerva head in one direction, Kit in another, Fawn and Odette in a third direction. I laugh when I realise that we haven't even had a group meeting - statistics show we all ally up, and they know that, since no-one has actually spoke. Creek advised me about knowing everything about them and giving them nothing to work with - all whilst Odette and River began calculating and planning everything apart from us.

I stride over to the rapiers - my favourite weapons - and grab the heaviest one off the rack. I can handle all sizes. I smirk and jolt the rapier out, letting it sink into the gut of the nearest dummy. I close my eyes and imagine it as Odette, her tiny eyes watching me with agony. I peel open my eyes and rip the rapier back out, grinning.

Odette doesn't even realise that her volunteering will be the death of her. My toys rarely survive after a week of me playing with them.

With my rapier in hand, I begin to walk over to Odette, who slides an arrow into the bow.

"Hi Odette," I say as sweetly as I can muster. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

She turns around and glares, evil eyes trying to narrow in and slice open my skull. "Go away, you little freak."

"That's rather rude, I just wanted to apologise about the reaping and everything," I lie, tilting my head innocently as her eyes narrow even tighter. "I feel like we got off on the wrong foot; I just got so excited and absorbed by the attention, I acted awful to you. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, sure, okay then," Odette responds coldly. "I know your game, Percival, I'm no idiot."

My eyes flash from sweet to sour within a second. "You really, really, really don't."

"Hmm, keep saying that to yourself. Maybe if you repeat it enough, it'll fill that big head of yours and actually get through."

"Oh Odette, so witty," I laugh, a dark chortle escaping my throat. Odette flinches a little, but her eyes never waver. "But, as I said, I'm truly, truly sorry for any bad blood between us that I might've caused."

I walk away before Odette can even answer, proud that my trap has been set. It'll take a while, but it'll work. I've never not been able to win people over. Sure, saying what I did during the reapings was both stupid and fun, but I can handle it. I just have to play it cool with her - distant and cold when around others, but speak more kindly to her in person, maybe with a twinge of darkness in my voice. If I can't sweeten and lull her into a false sense of security, I'll intimidate her into jumping off of the plate at the bloodbath.

I'm fine with either happening - I have plenty other toys to play with if this one breaks easily.

Terris Avar, District Three Male.

After a while, I managed to escape Nova. There's nothing wrong with her - and Bolt and Mercury were keen to pair us up as allies - but we're very different, and that, well, that causes some friction. On the first night, me and Nova spent a while arguing over the fact that Bolt has many children he looks after, whilst Mercury has none. She claimed it was because she was infertile, whilst Nova's more blunt words were 'dried up'.

"Hi there kid," the trainer smiles kindly. "What can I help you with to?"

"Can I have some wires maybe?" I ask, as kind as possible.

He smiles once more and bends down to collect something from underneath the station. I patiently wait and look around, finding Nova over near poisonous plants. She's joined at the station with the girl from Nine, who meekly slides leaves around. Nova turns and smiles rather cunningly, but I've learned she's socially inept, so it's probably by accident. Nova knows about my plan to use explosives; it's obvious since, you know, my love for fireworks and such. My district feared me for no apparent reason - then again, District Three is smart, but both socially awkward and socially unaccepting. Anyone who acts remotely differently are often frowned upon.

"Here you go young man."

"Thank you," I smile kindly, accepting the wires in my hands. "Do you have any small, electrical objects? Like balls or debris?"

His eyebrows furrow but he bends down and looks again. "Awfully strange request."

"Sorry," I say to his muted voice. "Just an idea of mine."

"Lets hope it works," he says, appearing with a tennis ball-shaped object that he hands to me. "I'm sure it'd be exciting to watch."

I nod politely and excuse myself, heading out to a small corner. I plug the connector in and begin to loop the wires in and around the small orb. After a while, I sigh, flicking the switch and watching it crackle to life with electricity. The ball is ignited by the volts; my hand obviously away from the object so I don't get electrocuted. Back in Three, I tried to create my own fireworks - for fun, honestly.

"That looks weird."

I look up to Nova's voice. "It's an idea of mine."

"What if you can't get hold of all that?" she questions.

"I will," I wave her off. "What have you got for this alliance, then?"

"Things," Nova smirks. "Sorry, but it's a secret. I'll tell you later when no-one is around."

By that, she means the girl from Nine, who looks at her from over her shoulder solemnly. The girl seems weak, so it's no problem, but then again, looking at me and Nova, you'd think the same. I guess I shouldn't judge; I'm small and young, and yet, if everything works, I might have a good offense in my hands. If I don't have this, I'll go to fire. That's my second best attack. And, of course, whatever Nova might bring to the table.

"Fair enough," I smile as Nova sits down. She picks at a stray wire on the floor, and I slap her hand. "Don't touch it."

Minerva Li, District Two Female.

"Don't pick that one," I say mindlessly, still looking at my nails. I know what Ransom is doing, though, and that's picking the largest, most deadliest looking sword he can handle. "Sweetheart, you'll look like an idiot trying to swing and swipe with something twice as heavy as you."

"Compared to the girl checking out her nails?" Ransom shoots back.

"Touche."

As Ransom pulls the sword off the rack - though he told Tarzana that he prefers knives - I look out at my fellow Careers. Kit runs through the gauntlet with ease, jumping and leaping through the air like a half-monkey creature, landing perfectly. So, his strength seems to athleticism. Not far from him, Fawn tries tying some knots and making a net. Odette lets the arrow ping from her bow and it flies across the air, landing specifically in the middle, wooden end quivering. Where is Percival?

"Hello there Minerva," I hear Percival say sarcastically, stepping out from behind the rack. "Having fun?"

"So much fun, sweet," I glare. "And what about you, Percy?"

He smirks and nods. "Yeah, yeah this is a lot of fun. Much more fun being with anyone but Odette; the girl is as boring as sin."

"I can tell. You two don't seem to be that fond of each other."

Percival smirks again. "Obvious is it?"

"One moment dear Percy," I say, turning to Ransom. "Are you sure you should be eavesdropping? I don't think it makes you that trustworthy, sweetheart."

Ransom seems taken aback by the comment and quickly shrugs it off, placing the sword back on the rack and walking away with shoulders slumped. I know Ransom from being in the year below me, but as far as I know from Signus, my trainer and another Victor, Ransom can't be one of the top fighters. Every week, Signus informs our class of who underneath us is stronger than us; Ransom has never made it against me, so I already know I'm going to last longer than him. Percival smiles again, a very condescending, snarky smile.

"Did you want to spar?" Percival asks. "We can try it - I prefer rapiers but I'll dumb myself down for you."

"What a gentleman," I roll my eyes, collecting the first sword. "But, I should warn you, I'll be able to kick your ass easily."

"Maybe," Percival winks. "Ready?"

"Ready."

We parry our swords against each other, the sound of metal ringing out. A trainer appears in the corner of my view, carefully watching us. We're both trained - at least I presume Percival is - but I suppose rules are rules. Us Careers are so dastardly, they might think we'd try and kill each other off before the real fun begins. But, what is an unarmed, defenseless trainer going to do against two teens handling swords with ease? Percival does nothing but smile as he counters me each time. What a little prick. Anger flares me and I push myself harder, slamming the blade into him with more pressure. He handles it well, sliding down with the weapon and then pushing himself up. He does it with so much force, it forces me back, and that's when his leg jerks out and his boot collides with my knee. I fall to the floor, face burning with both embarrassment and annoyance.

"Yeah, I'm sure you're good, but I'm better," Percival laughs, as a trainer's hand roams my body. I push it away and stand up, staring Percy down. "That was a fun game, I like you, Minerva."

With his final word hanging in the air, Percival drops the sword carelessly and begins to walk away, a stride in his step. The trainer collects it and sighs heavily, placing it back on the rack, all whilst I'm stood in the middle of the mat, staring at the space that Percival once occupied. I hate him. I hate him already. I hear footsteps come from behind, and instantly know it's Ransom from the sounds of the stomps.

"What do you want now?" I snap.

"Don't pick that one," Ransom starts, mimicking me in his own way. "Sweetheart, you'll look like an idiot trying to swing and swipe something more heavy than you."

Fawn Asprey, District One Female.

I smirk as Percival walks away from Minerva, leaving her both ashamed and embarrassed. I already know I don't like her; Minerva reminds me of some people in District One, and I don't like them either. There's just something about her attitude that really makes me wonder if she should be here, or alive, for that matter.

She was trained at the Training Center, big deal, the rest of us went to luxurious, expensive places to train and become machines.

No, that's a lie. I wasn't; I trained myself with anything I could find, though I can easily handle a sword and such. Again, another lie, since I can't do much except lie my way out of everything that I come across. No-one needs to know that, though. Augustus questioned me thoroughly, asking me why he hasn't seen such a beautiful creature around his academy before. Of course, I lied, telling him that I've recently dyed my hair and that's probably why. I don't need to go anywhere near the filthy man; I know I have no tact, but I mean, the man is a bastard, plain and simple. By the time I actually got to see Sheer, my mentor, she had glass eyes that kept rolling into her head. It wasn't hard, either, to notice the many tiny little holes that lined her arm.

Augustus didn't even seem ashamed as he carried Sheer into her bedroom and tucked her in. Everyone knows that she's a prostitute to Augustus' ways, like many Victors end up. Tassle King, too, ended up that way, trying to inject the needle anywhere but the obvious places, just to avoid suspicious looks.

But I wouldn't have volunteered without knowledge - I'm not the Kingston Academy's property, so I don't have to bow down to that wretched man. Although, he thinks I am, so that might be a problem.

I dance through the remaining hours of training, watching people gather together for lunch and so forth. The Careers all sit together, but I stick with Kit on one end of the table. Out of them all, Kit is probably the only one whom I could care a tiny bit about. Percival is an interesting creature, too, but I've worked his little psychopathic game already. The beauty of being a talented liar? I can spot the crap ones.

"We still need a leader," Percival speaks up, jamming a piece of fish into his mouth. He chews and then swallows, pointing his fork at Minerva. "Any ideas, Minerva?"

"None, doll," Minerva scowls. "Maybe we should just work as loners."

"Break this pack up before we've reached the arena? Yeah, wise idea," Odette rolls her eyes. "I suggest myself."

"Why you? Why not me?" Minerva counters.

"You just basically declined the position," Odette smirks. "Anyone against that idea? If so, please raise your hands, children."

Almost instantly, me, Ransom and Kit shoot our hands up, definitely against her having any control over this alliance. I don't know whether I like her or not, but either way, she'll probably run us into the ground quicker than we started. She glares at the hands raised upwards and proceeds to pout, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Fine, but don't come crying to me when it all goes wrong." she moans.

We sit in silence for a little longer, my eyes watching Kit's plate as he scoops up some peas and eats them. Then, he seems to groan, tenderly massaging his muscle joints.

"You okay?" I ask, eyes narrowing on his body. Out of us all, Kit seemed the most physically fit, and now that seems a bit far-fetched to think about.

"I'm fine," he smiles weakly. "Just think I pulled something during the gauntlet. You okay? I didn't see you pick up any weapons today."

I nod in response, knowing that he's lying. I basically wrote the book on it, I know when someone is telling the truth or not. "Oh, I didn't feel the need to. I've trained so much for this at Kingston Academy that I thought it would be best to just watch, not show off."

"You attended Kingston Academy?"

"Everyday," I lie, internally wincing as my efforts to bond with someone flounders with a simple lie. "Sometimes I would go for twice as long, just because I was asked to. They adored me and wanted to see more of what I could do."

"Impressive." Kit smiles.

I open my mouth to respond to him, when a tray slams down on the table to my left. I instantly turn, alongside the others, as the male from Eight sits down with a smirk. He nods in Percival's direction and jabs some meat with a fork. "I'm Anubis, and you're most welcome to have me join you."

The Fear by Ben Howard.

The blog for this story is wildone hunger games . blogspot - all deaths will be notified here!

All deaths will be based on realism, story arcs and whether or not the submitter is reading the story. Obviously, reviews let me know this, and if said submitter chooses to not review, I have no idea if they're reading the story, and therefore, am more inclined to keep other tributes over said submitter's tribute. Each decision is painstakingly hard but must be done. Everyone knew the odds when they created a character. I would hope you stick around, but if not, I understand.

I would love for you to answer a specific question I have for each chapter!

Which tributes/POVs stood out to you? Who do you like/hate so far from just this instalment?

And, of course, a general review on my writing? It's invaluable!

I don't hate you guys... I just, I apologise for the length once more. I'm much more proud of this chapter, but thank you for the warming reviews :')

This length might happen whilst I'm in the Capitol...

Three more chapters - and, well, yeah. This'll be so hard, I can already tell. I love you all! If your tribute was presented as one of the twelve POV's in this leg (leg one), can you tell me how the portrayal went? Some I feel okay about, some I feel a little worried that I've done it wrong...

The next chapter will start with Twelve and work downwards. I felt like a bit of a change. :)