Gahh! It's been so long! I have fought my way back from the depths of what is known only as "Writers Block" armed with only a laptop! Life's been really busy with school starting in a few days, my brother already back at school, puppy watch, getting ready for school, and all that stuff. So, since school starts in 4 days, I'll make you guys a deal: I will do one train ride each day (and another today) so I can finish that before school starts, and then we can get to the good stuff. That's

D9 (right now) and D10 today

D11 tomorrow

D12 on Monday

Feel free to yell at me, jump on me, bribe me, whatever to get me off my lazy butt so I can write. Of course, reviews work just as well too, and you get something back- Sponsor Points!

Saida Atalanta's PoV

I sat at the table, staring down anyone who looked my way. I could be unfriendly some times, and this was one of those times. They were sending me to my death, for Pete's sake! Who is Pete, and why am I annoyed for his sake, anyway? I could feel the mentor, Caine Draves, examining me. His eyes swept from my ragged nails over my pale skin, to my chin-length jet black hair, avoiding my eyes.

When my father was murdered 3 years ago, it was passed off as an accident. But I knew the truth. Dad had borrowed money from a husky, heavily built man so he could feed us. He tried to tell me everything would be okay after I had seen the man threaten him because he couldn't pay back the money, but it wasn't. No one believed me when I said he was killed on purpose, so I rebelled. I cut my blonde tresses and dyed them black. I became strong, bold, fearless, and untrusting. Mom flipped out, obviously. She never figured out what to do about me. Every time she tried to help, I shut her out. She was one of the people who didn't believe that Dad was murdered. Maybe she didn't want to.

My district partner, Everard, spoke up, breaking me out of my reverie. He wasn't much to look at, only about 4'10", and had lots of freckles. He had one blue eye and one green eye, which was kind of freaky, but other than that he seemed okay. Maybe a little dorky, but okay.

"So, when are you gonna start helping us?" He asked around a mouth full of chicken. That drew a chortle from Caine, as he knocked back another glass of wine. Maybe now would be a good time to mention that he was also a drunk. How could Ever think this man would help us? He would probably help us as much as he did the tributes before us; drink, tell us to look good on camera, then drink some more. Great.

Ever looked a little perturbed as he fingered his token, a necklace with a small hourglass on it. I wondered if that was supposed to signify anything. He seemed innocent enough. That only meant he would die even sooner. In this kind of game, you had to be ruthless. Strong. Bold. Fearless. If you were paying attention, you would know I had all of these qualities. And that was why I would win.

Everard "Ever" Van Laren

How can I ever expect to win this thing? I'm a short 13 year old who had never picked up anything larger than a knife. Maybe deep down a small part of me believed I could win, but the larger, more logical part knew it was hopeless. I could never kill anyone. No one had ever won the Hunger Games without spilling blood. It just wasn't done, because there was always that last fight at the end. Even if I could make it to the end, I would lose that battle for sure. Well, we weren't getting anything done just sitting here. I decided to take action.

"So, when are you gonna start helping us?" Everyone stopped chewing and looked at me. Then a sound came from Caine's side of the table. It started deep in his core and rumbled up. He was laughing at me! Embarrassed, I shrank back into my seat. Everyone went back to their food, except for Saida. She continued to stare at me with piercing bottle green eyes. It was almost like she was sizing me up. Feeling self conscious, I became extremely interested in the piece of chicken I was cutting up. The rest of the meal passed without incident. I spent it reflecting on the morning.

I had gotten up and eaten breakfast just like any other day, then gotten dressed and played with my friends for a couple hours before we had to go get changed into our reaping outfits. I had walked up with the other 13 year olds and waited as Saida's name was called, and then came the shock of hearing my own name echoing across the square…

"Everard Van Laren!" The male escort's deep voice rang out over the crowds. No! He can't have called my name! I gulp audibly, clenching and unclenching my fingers. "Everard Van Laren?" The escort calls my name again, this time in confusion. I realize that I have to do something before the Peacekeepers come and find me. That won't be pleasant. Peacekeepers rarely are. My feet begin to shuffle to the stage, then progress to baby steps, then timid ones as I slowly gain control over the numbness that has taken over my body. The crowd has already parted to let me through. They look at me as though I am already dead, a walking corpse. It didn't do anything to help my nerves, that's for sure. I felt even smaller on stage, looking out at the sea of people.

"Let's go watch the reapings!" Our escort jovially announced, breaking into my thoughts. Saida and I nodded our assent, and we walked into another room. The walls were painted the color of champagne, and the leather couches matched. A big, thin T.V. was perched on the wall opposite the couches, above a wood cabinet that I assumed was full of tapes from past games. The Reapings weren't super interesting, but they never are.

Everyone else announced they were off to bed, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. After everyone left, I crawled over to the cabinet and selected a tape at random. I loaded into the appropriate slot and watched as the screen lit up with the words.

"The Official Recording of the 4th Hunger Games" I knew who won these games. Everyone had heard of him. District 4's Triton Odair, the most sought after bachelor in Panem. After watching his games, I loaded in another tape.

"The Official Recording of the 2nd Hunger Games" If I had seen these games before, I didn't remember them. These had been when I was 6 years old. I enjoyed oohing and ahhing at the chariot and interview costumes- those were always my favorite parts. Then it suddenly cut to the bloodbath. I had to bite back a shriek as one of the Careers got hold of a sword and turned, neatly slicing off the head of the poor girl who had just been trying to get a few supplies before high-tailing it to the woods. It showed a close-up of the severed head before cutting to another violent scene, a boy coughing up blood, his stomach threatening to come out of the gaping hole in his stomach. With a yelp, I dove forward, desperately hitting the stop button before another cruel and vicious sound could come out of the speakers. I curled up into a ball, realizing that I faced things like that in the arena. It was only re-enforcing that I wouldn't come out alive. Crap.

Poor Ever!