I have no idea how I was able to sleep that night, but I seemed to be out as soon as my head hit the pillow. I woke up at about 5am, and was mildly surprised to see I was still wearing what I had been in yesterday evening. I pulled the crumpled clothes off and climbed into the shower, letting the hot water run over me, as I realised that today could well be my last day I would ever see. I dressed in something simple this morning, because I knew I would ultimately get changed once we got to the arena. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, and it still being so early, I braided my hair back, so it hung down my right side, then went to sit on the sofa for a while, waiting for Cinna. Peeta came and sat down next to me a few minutes later. My stomach was churning, and it had nothing to do with him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I curled into him, not wanting today to happen. I knew what I had to do though, and I turned to face him.
"Cora, before you say anything, I just wanted to say I'm sorry I never said anything back home, in Twelve. I should have told you sooner how I felt."
"Peeta, I - I need to talk to you." This was the hardest thing I had ever had to do. Ok with the possible exception of hearing my name being called out on Reaping day and having to walk up to the stage in front of all my friends and family. "I think I should do this alone. In the arena, I mean. I've thought about it, and to protect you I need to go alone. Not ally up with anyone." My heart sank as I watched his face fall. He nodded.
"Okay," he said quietly. "If that's what you want." He then stood up and walked back to his room to wait for Portia. The tears were starting to fall down my cheeks and I quickly wiped them away, knowing that this was the best thing to do. I took a deep breath, stood up and jumped as I saw Cinna stood watching me.
"Come on," he said gently, "we need to get going."
~ Peeta's POV ~
I didn't know what to think. I shut my bedroom door and waited for Portia to come and collect me, like she said she would. Cora didn't need to protect me. I should be protecting her. I knew what I had to do. She turned up about fifteen minutes later, then took me up the roof. A hovercraft appeared as though from nowhere and a thin ladder came down in front of me. I stepped onto it, and immediately, an electric current held me in place as it lifted me up into the belly of the craft. Before I was freed from the ladder, a woman in a white coat injected my fore arm.
"What's that?"
"It's your tracker, Peeta," she said. "So the Gamemakers know where you are in the arena at all times." Once the tracker was in place, the current was turned off, and I sat down, waiting for the ladder to come back up with Portia attached.
~ Cora's POV ~
I scratched my arm where the woman had just injected my tracker. I may have been frozen to the ladder, but it still didn't stop it from stinging as she poked the needle into my skin. Cinna arrived on the hovercraft moments later, and a young Avox boy, about my age possibly, lead us to a room where breakfast was waiting. I knew this would be my last proper meal for a while - if I wasn't killed in the initial bloodbath of course - so I just ate whatever was put in front of me, no matter how much was there. I don't think I even bothered to chew this time. I was only on the craft for about half an hour, before they darkened the windows and lowered the blinds so I couldn't see where we were. I guessed we were coming up to the arena then. When we've landed, the ladder descends for us again, only this time, we are led down into a tube which I find out takes us right down into the catacombs of this year's arena. I followed Cinna through the winding corridors and twisted stairways, til we reached my very own Launch Room. In the districts, we call this the Stockyard - the place the animals go to before they are slaughtered. I'm the first - and last - tribute to have used this room. At the end of each Games, the arenas are usually preserved, and used as tourist spots for Capitol residents. They can tour the catacombs, stay in the arena itself for a month, even take part in re-enacting the killings. It's disgusting.
I tried to keep my breakfast down as I had a quick shower and brushed my teeth. I knew eating so much would come back to bite me in butt, but on the other hand, I didn't know when my next meal would be.
I watched Cinna as he opened the closet in the room. His green and gold flecked eyes taking in every detail of the outfit I was given. When he lifted it out and brought it over to me I saw it was quite lightweight, but durable. That meant I would probably be in the woods or something similar. That was good. It meant shelter, water, food. I dressed in the clothes he got out for me. He has had no say in this outfit - this was all the Gamemakers, as they were the only ones who really knew what the area will hold for me and the twenty-three other tributes. On top of the undergarments that were given to me, I put on simple tawny trousers, a light green blouse, a sturdy brown belt, and a thin, hooded black jacket which fell to my thighs.
"Why is the inside silver?" I asked.
"It's designed to reflect body heat," said Cinna, "so be prepared for some very cool nights." I rolled my skintight socks on and picked up the boots, examining them. They were so much better than I could have ever hoped for. I ran my fingers along the soft leather, smiling a little. The soles were narrow and flexible with treads, so that would be good for when I needed to run. I sat down on the chair next to me, while Cinna braided my hair for me, down my side, how I had it last night for dinner. When he had finished, he came to sit in front of me and slid his hand out to me.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Just look," he said, softly. I picked up the little gold circle he was holding out to me and gasped as I realised it was the mockingjay pin that Primrose had given me back in Twelve.
"Thankyou," I breathed, "where did you find it?"
"I got it from the clothes you wore when you arrived in the Capitol. I thought it might hold some meaning to you." He wasn't wring. It may not have been mine to start with, but it was about the only thing I had left of my district.
"Thankyou," I said again, trying to push back the tears that were threatening to fall. As he pinned the badge onto the inside of my jacket, it suddenly hit me the enormity of what the Capitol were asking me to do. I began shaking, but a voice above us called out.
"Thirty seconds till launch." I looked over at the large glass tube that I had been trying all morning to ignore. Cinna wrapped his arms round me and I fell into the, grateful for the last piece of human attention for, well possibly the last time.
"I'm not allowed to bet," he said quietly, "but if I were, I'd put all my money on you."
"Thankyou Cinna," I said, shakily. "For everything, thankyou." He nodded, a sad, little smile on his face.
"Remember what Haymitch said. Run, find water. The rest will follow."
"Ten seconds to launch."
"Good luck, Girl on Fire," he said, as I stepped into the tube and onto the metal plate. It closed behind me and I turned round to face him. It slowly lifted me up for maybe fifteen seconds and suddenly, there was sunlight. Sunlight and a breeze. And a voice overhead boomed out from all directions.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games begin!"
"Sixty seconds," boomed the voice once more, and as I looked in front of me, I saw the Cornucopia, with a large countdown on the top, counting down the seconds until I was to begin killing. I had fifty seconds now, fifty seconds to take in my surroundings. In front of the Cornucopia were all kinds of weapons and minimal survival equipment. The juiciest prizes were sat right in the mouth of the Cornucopia, the bow and arrow, the spears, the swords and knives. The further out it went, the less desirable items became. The closest ones to me were plastic sheeting. That wouldn't be useful to most people, but I knew I could use that for shelter, for warmth. That's when I spotted the rucksack. A niggling feeling on the back of my neck caused to me turn around and that was when I saw Peeta, stood on his metal plate. He must have been watching me, because he was very softly shaking his head. He was telling me no. I know he wanted me to run, just like Haymitch said, but no, I didn't ca...
~ Gale's POV ~
"Well it looks as though we have a very good mix this year, things could get very interesting," Caesar Flickerman was saying to Claudius Templesmith, as I sat in front of the television, watching the start of the Hunger Games. I didn't want to, but it mandatory viewing, and I wanted to make sure Cora was alright. What was I saying, of course she wouldn't be alright, she was stuck in a closed arena with twenty three other kids, all of whom were trying to kill each other so they could be the one to come home and live. School had been closed for the day again, so that we could watch the opening of the Games. There were the bookies odds for each tribute, a little about the districts they came from, and the reapings were played again, with Caesar and Claudius analysing once more how they think each tribute would fare in the arena from the reapings, with the added knowledge of their scores. The only thing they didn't know was what happened with each private session with the Gamemakers. No-one ever knew, as it wasn't allowed to be public knowledge. Probably in case someone embarrassed them by - oh god, I really hope Cora didn't do anything stupid like throw a knife at them. I knew what her temper could be like. She had quite a long fuse, but I would never recommend to anyone being around when it would finally blow.
"Kayle, Kayle, Kaaayyyyyyyle." I sighed and got out of my chair. Posy needed my help with something by the sounds of it. Going into her room, I stopped in my tracks, and had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing. Posy had gotten into Cora's closet and was now sporting a bra (which she had stuffed with socks), and Cora's favourite top, along with my hunting boots.
"Oh sweetie, don't you look pretty, but should we get you changed?"
"No," my little sister cried, stomping her foot on the floor, which proved alot harder than she thought, seeing as her 5 year old feet were much much smaller than my 17 year old feet.
"Ok, but can we at least take the bra off of you? I don't think Cora would want you playing with that." She sighed and pouted, then thought for a moment.
"Alright, but only because you asked me nicely, Kayle," she said. "Help me?" she asked, lifting her arms up. Once my little sister was back to being braless (I never thought I would have to say those words), I took her into the kitchen to get something to eat. Vick and Rory were already there, eating lunch, while mum was stood at the side, folding Mrs Gordon's laundry. Once Posy was happily munching on cinnamon and raisin bread, fresh this morning, and a rabbit leg, I went back to the television.
"District Eleven, Rue Kennedy," Caesar said. Her little face filled the screen. She was the same age as Primrose, she was too little to be going into that arena. "She is going into the arena today with odds of 60-1."
"Gale, has it started yet?" I turned round and saw mum.
"No, but they are nearly finished the bookies odds," I said, glumly, "so it's almost on."
"District Twelve, Peeta Mellark, with odds of 35-1. And finally from District Twelve, Cordelia Hawthorne, the Girl on Fire, with odds of 5-1." Five to one, it was usually the Careers who got those odds. She must have done something very impressive to be given that. Suddenly the screen changed from Caesar and Claudius, to a meadow, surrounded by trees, and a large horn in the middle.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games begin!" The screen panned round and suddenly my sister's face was right in front of me. She looked much healthier than when she had left, her cheeks weren't as hollow. Not that they were, we ate better than some of the families in the Seam, but we still struggled. The sixty second countdown began and that was when we got to see the arena for the first time properly. If any of the tributes stepped off their metal plates before the countdown ended, they would be blown to pieces. I watched one girl step off hers two seconds early one year. They had very little left to send back to her parents.
"Five, four, three, two, one." DONG. This year's Hunger Games had begun.