Here we are. One more chapter until (drumroll...) Long Chapters! Yay!
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Cheers,
*WentToTheMoonToday
...
Natalie Dismal, District Ten
Districts pass by, the houses and fences blurring. They get bigger and more elaborate the further we travel. The train makes no noise, a sleek bullet rocketing through the countryside.
My District partner is looking solemn at the moment, but he is a true gentleman. A while ago, when a tear or two leaked from my eye, he offered me a clean, pressed handkerchief with the initials 'SB' embroidered on the corner. I felt furious that I had shown a weakness and hoped that a stray camera hadn't documented it with it's steel glass eye.
All I can think about is the arena. Will it be full of water? I hope not. I can't swim and never will, unless I get out of these Games alive. My strength is running and eyesight. I could see a pin on the floor from the top of a medium sized tree, providing there were no leaves in the way. When I was younger, there was a choice of taking a Running Master class or a Swimming Master class. I chose the running, but could that choice have doomed me to my death?
I'd quite like an ally. Maybe my District partner. However, as I ponder on this, I realise that maybe Stag has been buttering me up. Act nice to the twelve year old, get her to trust you. Then the minute you enter the arena, spear her in the chest. You can never be too cautious, Mum says.
Anumus Titan, District Four
I like looking at Marella. She has these deep blue eyes which look like the bottom of the ocean. Her hair flows down her back, a wave of blackness, punctuated with blue streaks. I can see she's working out her tactics in a notebook. Probably working out the best way to kill me.
I smile, stretch back and place my feet upon the luxurious foot rest. Marella glances up at me briefly before looking back at her page. She blushes a little in my presence and fumbles a bit with her pen. I have that effect on people – I can't help it.
I should probably start thinking up some tactics. But isn't that what our mentors are there for? This train is inexplicitly dull. I'm pretty sure that we should be reaching the Capitol soon. Then I can start making a good impression and soon the Capitol ladies will be falling over themselves to send me gifts.
The outside world dims and we are inside a tunnel. The immense power of the rock fascinates me, but I'd rather be in open air, practising with my trident or fishing with Dad and Oceanus. For a moment, I wonder if we are coming out, but then, the sky reappears and the Capitol looms over us.
Everyone has seen the Capitol on TV. Everyone knows what it looks like, but this, this is indescribable. It makes District One look like the remains of Thirteen. I laugh and feel grateful that I can at least spend the possible last seven days here, in complete luxury.
