I dream that I am already in the arena. I am running as fast as my legs will carry me across a never ending expanse of grass. Cato and Enobaria chase me, squealing with laughter and brandishing heavy, deadly looking weapons.

My heart pounds and my breathing is rough from the exertion. I cannot outrun them. I turn round to face them; maybe I'm hoping I can fight my way out. But it's futile, they are much bigger and stronger than I am, and I know without checking that I have no weapons.

Enobaria extends her arm and her spear plunges into my stomach, the force sending me to the ground. Pain sears through my body and insects crawl from my wound. Enobaria laughs a cold, cruel laugh and I watch her golden canines glint in the sunlight. The insects begin to feast on my flesh and I scream for help. I scream at Cato, begging him to save me but he just whispers Don't be stupid Clove; I don't want you in the games with me. Then he takes Enobaria's face in his hands and passionately kisses her. I scream and scream till my throat is sore and the insects swallow me whole.

I wake with a jolt and nearly fall out of bed when I see Cato next to me. Just a dream, I remind myself, It was just a dream. Cato's face wears a sad expression and I wonder if I was screaming out loud in my sleep.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Clove," his voice is pained; he must have got some idea of what the dream was about from my screams.

"I know," I reach up and kiss him softly to let him know we're okay. He plays with my hair in silence for a second before saying something.

"Brutus and Enobaria wanted to watch the recaps of the reapings after dinner but I'd rather do it with you. Want to check out the competition?" He winks at me and I can't help but smile.

"Go on then," Cato turns on the wide screened TV that it is placed on the wall opposite my bed. I curl up next to him and prepare myself to see the faces of the people who I will have to kill, the faces of the people who may be my killer.

From District One there is a pretty, blonde girl and a tall boy who volunteers. Typically the District One tributes are also careers so they will be our allies. I hope they're good enough to help me keep Cato alive. I think it without realising. Have I decided that I would rather have Cato alive than myself? I don't know. I don't know what to think. I try to focus on the reapings.

The only other tributes who look like competition to us are a sneaky looking girl with red hair from five, a monstrous boy from eleven and the girl from twelve. She's no great physical specimen and she doesn't look mean and sly like the redhead girl, but she volunteered. Outline districts never have volunteers. She took the place of a tiny girl whose untucked shirt gave the impression of a little duck tail, her sister I believe. The sisters stick out in my mind. Some instinct tells me I shouldn't underestimate her.