I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. I would really apprieciate it if you would please review! I just want to thank everyone following my story! :D

I pray that this will get me at least a ten and begin my routine.

I dash to the hand-to-hand combat ring. The trainer there is carrying a bow and quiver full of arrows. I've told him to do all he can to prevent me from obtaining these. I can tell he was nervous when I told him I'd be fighting him. Word must have got around.

I pretend to rush him, but at the last minute when he side steps me, I roll under his arm and kick his legs out from under him. We both spring up almost immediately like cats. The trainer tries to throw a left hook, but I duck. He follows up with straight right hand, and I have to spring back to avoid getting hit. He keeps swinging at me, but I manage to stay out of reach. Finally he throws another left hook, but with too much power. I duck under his arm before he can recover and swing again. I whirl and elbow him hard on the base of his skull. He drops like a stone.

I retrieve the bow and jump from the ring to the obstacle course. I complete the obstacle course with ease. At different points I would fire at dummies across the room, and hit the bull's-eye every time without slowing down.

From the top of the obstacle course I jump up and grab a hold of the ropes that stretch low across the ceiling. I dangle for a minute, and then pull myself up. I climb across the rope system; pausing every now and then to shoot at distant dummies. The climbing is made infinitely harder because I instructed the three archery, spear throwing, and knife throwing trainers to aim at me. They are throwing and shooting blunt blanks tipped with fresh red paint, which will show up on my white shirt if they hit me.

I'm almost out of arrows so I drop down to the knife station and grab a belt of knives. I have to roll behind the archery and spear dummies to avoid the flying missiles. I dash over to the camouflage station and grab a bucket of supplies.

I dash across the gym to the obstacle course, all the while dodging missiles. I jump on the balance beam. I grab a weighted rope and wrap it around my torso. I skip around on the balance beam, dodging the missiles. I hop from one foot to another as I dodge, never having more than one foot on the beam at any one time. I continue to hit dummies, only this time with knives. Each time I throw a knife I add more weight.

By the time I run out of knives the weights are almost as heavy as I am. I reach down for the bucket of camouflage supplies. One move later and I've shed all of the ropes. I run down the balance beam and jump back onto the lower ropes.

I spend more time in the ropes this time. I jump down in the middle of the camouflage station, only no one sees me. I've painted myself to match the floor of the camouflage station (which is covered in fallen leaves). The trainers cease fire when they can't see me anymore.

I reach behind one of the trees and grab the spears I stashed there. I jump up and dash to the edible plants station. I sort the plants perfectly in record time. During this I throw the spears not to hit dummies but to knock the offending missiles of course. I use the last spear as a quarter staff to knock away the missiles as I spring nimbly to the axe and club station where I pick up three tomahawks (war axes).

I then proceed to the sword fighting station. The trainer that faces me carries a longer and heavier saber than I do. The metal flashes and before long I've managed to disarm her. The sword skitters across the floor and out of reach. I pick up the sword and remove the blow gun and bright blue darts hidden in the handle.

I throw each of the tomahawks at the three dummies that the archery, spear throwing, and knife throwing trainers are standing next to. Luckily I decapitate the dummies not the trainers.

I run to the center of the gym again. All the while I blow my darts. When I reach the center of the room I take a bow. It has taken nearly 20 minutes to do my full routine. My breathing has become heavy, though I'm trying hard not to show it. I swallow back my nausea and focus on remaining standing. I resist the urge to clutch the stitch in my sides. I've done my best now all I can do is pray.

"You may go Miss. Aquadea, although I do have one question." Mr. Napaltin says.

"What is that sir?" I ask between breaths.

"What became of those darts you were blowing?"

"One is in the green steak, one is in that lady's pink hat, three are in your fellow Gamemaker's coats, one is lodged in that other lady's green dress, and the last one is imbedded in that turkey leg you're eating. If I had coated them with poison they would have killed you without you realizing it." I say. I give a small smile to show that I mean no real harm to them.

"Very good; you may go." He says with a wave of his hand.

I give one last bow, and head to the elevators. I'm quite pleased with my performance; and I hope the Gamemakers were too. The elevator zooms up to our floor and I am sure that I'll throw up between the speed and the nerves. Dad is waiting for me when the doors open.

"Did you do well?" He asks softly.

"Excellent! I better have the best score, because I put on quite a show." I say, confident.

"Oh thank goodness! Vince was going on about how terrible you were in training and I was afraid that maybe, well, never mind." He says. He wraps me in a bear hug, more out of relief than anything else.

"I was purposely trying to look bad in front of Vince and the others. That way they'll have no idea what I was so good at in my private session." I reassure.

"Oh."

"Alright, I need to get ready for dinner." I say pulling out of the hug that he had pulled me into.

I said I wanted to get ready for dinner, but what I really needed was to think. I sit on my bed and think. I try not to think about the Hunger Games since I've been thinking about them non-stop since the reaping. Instead I think about home.

I wonder what mother is doing. Is she still going to all the lavish parties that occur every year around this time? Or is she refusing to leave the house? I hope that she doesn't waste away with worry. Now all I can picture is her sitting in the big brown arm chair in the living room. Looking out of the large picture window and yet not really seeing anything. She seems so frail in my mind. Nothing like the mother I always knew. I hope that Lucille is still caring for her. This comforts me because I know Lucille won't let her waste away, even if she has to force mother to eat, sleep, and bathe.

Lucille; another person I love that I hope is taking this well. Whatever pain she's in, she'll hide it for the sake of the others. I'm glad that Lucille can be as steady as a rock in a crisis. She'll make sure everything continues to run smoothly. I hope she stays strong for both mother and her own family.

I wonder how Tess is taking this. She must be worried sick, but I hope she knows I can handle myself. She's probably going to skip school to watch. I can see her glued to the screen, watching me as I struggle to survive. She'll probably watch at my house instead of at the community hall. She doesn't own her own TV so her whole family comes to our house to watch the Hunger Games. They really are close enough to be family.

I hope Jess can handle what he sees. I hope he doesn't think I care about the others like I love him. I hope things will still be the same between us when I get home. Well now, not exactly the same. I hope we can really date. I'll have to hide how I feel about him from the Capitol, just like Dad did with Mother. But that doesn't mean we can't love each other without the Capitol knowing about it.

I try to remember what a normal day at home would be like. Waking up early to watch the fishermen get under way and sail out to sea for another day of fishing. Then going down to my training room to practice before school. Running down the hill to school, with the fresh sea breeze blowing on my face, smelling of salt.

Meeting Tess and Jess at the door. Taking crap from the other kids about my Dad ("Hey Victor's daughter, how does your dad like training kids to die?"), and snubbing them back ("Better watch out! My dad's got connections! He could ask his friends to rig the reaping so you have to go!").

Going to our different classes for the morning. Spending my classes doing homework, studying survival stuff and fighting moves, or doodling new traps and ways to start a fire in my notebook. Usually my teachers yell at me to pay attention, but how will Math save me in the arena?

Lunch is usually a happy affair. I sit with Tess, Jess, and Leah "Flame" Fitzgerald, a tiny shy girl with short cinnamon hair and a temper to match. Most of the time we talk about how unfair everything is, but only in whispers. Flame's got a grandpa who served in the District 4 regiment during the war. He's one of the few rebels that survived.

Afternoon classes that seem to drag on forever. More not paying attention and more reprimands from teachers. Sometimes I have Track practice after school. Other days I'll hang out with my friends after school, or sometimes it's just Tess and I. I loved the freedom of those afternoons. We could do anything we wanted. Go to the mall, or more likely the beach. Sometimes we swam, sometimes we fished, and sometimes both.

A memory drifts up from the depths of my mind, of the time when Jess was fishing while I swam. Tess had left already because she had complained of having a boat load of homework. I had been swimming under the water and had just come up for air. Jess was casting the line at the same time that I surfaced. The hook ended up getting caught in my hair. It took Jess nearly twenty minutes to untangle the mess. I love this memory because of afterwards when Jess kept calling me his catch of the day.

Late afternoons and evenings were reserved for lessons in fighting with Dad. It was always hard, but I never realized that he went easy on me at first until I got older and he stopped being so gentle. Often I would wake up the next day with bruises or if I was really unlucky, a black eye. I remember that my school counselor once asked if my parents were abusive. I had to explain to her that it was part of my training. I can tell she didn't approve, but she never brought up the subject again.

Dinner was always at least a semi-formal occasion thanks to Mother who insisted on trying to make me into a lady. I always did everything I could to appease her, but I'm just not a lady. I hated acting like one. I suppose it'll come in handy for the interviews though, but I don't want to think about those yet.

As I come back to reality I realize that I'm crying. Not just tears, but the big rib aching sobs that hurt you so much that it turns the pain from emotional to physical. I've been holding back these tears ever since the reaping so now I let them flow. Sometimes you just need to have a good cry.

After a while the tears subside. I feel empty of emotion, and surprisingly refreshed inside. I get up and wash away all the traces of my tears. I take a quick hot shower. I put my hair in twin French braids and tie the ends in magenta ribbon. I put on a short strapless dress with a white top and pink ruffled bottom. I put on some pink glitter on my lips, glittery black mascara, sparkly face powder, light pink blush, and light pink eye shadow and liner. I put on some red wedges and a wide black belt. I curl a few dark strands of hair that frame my face. Hopefully my look tonight is a little more girly than my previous cool colored tight fitting dresses and intense makeup.

Everyone is already at the table when I enter. All of the mentors and Trudy give me questioning looks. I try to reassure them with my eyes but I don't have the same conversational eyes as Cole. I can't say anything out loud because Vince is there.

Unfortunately the only open seat is next to Vince, and I can't move the chair without looking rude. I sit down gingerly next to him. Having him so close to me is uncomfortable. I just can't relax near him. I suppose that'll come in handy in the arena.

Between Vince and the upcoming scores I'm too nervous to pay attention to the conversation. The only thing that registers is Vince loudly bragging about how much weight he threw for the Gamemakers, how well he threw the spears and tridents, and how well he did with sword fighting. This worries me because I'm not as proficient in any of these things as he is.

Trudy takes me aside after dinner. I can tell he's really worried about me. Trudy asks, "Are you okay? Vince didn't get to you that much, did he?"

I know I can trust in Trudy and I have to confide in somebody so I say, "Yes, he did. I'm good at a lot of stuff, but in those three particular things he could easily beat me."

"You know he's just a big blowhard, and he's probably exaggerating a lot."

"I've seen him though."

"But you haven't actually had to fight him have you? Who knows, maybe he seems good compared to the trainer but maybe you're better than him. Who knows? And you can't tell me you believe that he actually lifted 600lbs much less threw it. I mean, he may be strong, but not that strong! I have no idea what your good at, but knives and arrows go much farther than a spear. Don't worry; I'm sure you'll do fine!" Trudy says.

"That's part of why I'm worried. I'm afraid he'll be upset by his score. I don't want him to take it personally if I do better than him."

"Well how about we sit together? I can be there to support you if that happens. And getting a better score than him will mean you've got a better shot if he tries to hurt you in the arena. That is if he doesn't want you on his side."

True to his word, Trudy sits next to me on the couch. Trudy almost disappears into the fabric because both he and the couch are the same color. Luckily Vince decides to stand. Or maybe not so lucky, because I won't be able to dodge him as fast if I'm sitting.

The Anthem blares loudly as the TV flicks on. This TV is the same size as the one before but doesn't cover the whole wall because this wall is considerably bigger than on the train.

Velvet scores a ten, Jewel scores an eight, Brutus scores a nine, and Cecilia scores also scores a ten. The District three runts both get threes. No surprise there, they never do very well. Most likely they'll die by the end of the first day. Vince scores a nine.

Vince curses. I can tell he wanted to at least tie with Velvet. Hayla and Stretta are the only ones who congratulate him, and Hayla is the only one who tries to comfort him. I block out his ranting.

My score is up next and I've suddenly started sweating really hard. Trudy holds my hand tightly. My picture flashes on the screen and below that my score.

I've gotten a 12.