AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it's been a while since I've updated. I'm sorry. The year is winding down, and there is all the craziness of finals, middle school graduation, my dance recital, my upcoming vacation, and class trips/dances. I don't know what is going on and when I'll be able to update, but I get out of school the 14th. So I'll probably have an update the 15th. (lol.) Anyway, I am not abandoning the story, but the month of June is very hectic, and I'll be on a better schedule in July.

...PRIMROSE EVERDEEN

I guess I eventually fell asleep, because when I open my eyes again, it's morning. The dreaded morning. Possibly my last one.

I push the thought from my mind and get up. My back is sore from the ledge and the three hours of sleep, but I know I never would have been able to sleep on that bed. It feels too soft for a bed, and too big without Katniss beside me.

The first thing I do is take a shower. I let the hot water run over me for a long time. It feels so nice. Back home, we bathe in a bin, and if you want hot water you have to heat it. Here, there is hot water at the press of a button. There are also so many different options for soaps, lotions, shampoos, and water preferences. I still haven't figured it out, and I doubt I ever will.

Tears well up in my eyes. I thought I was all cried out from last night, but I guess not. It's nice to cry in the shower, with the rushing water to drown out my cries and the steam floating around.

After a nearly thirty minute shower, I step out and into the dryer. It takes about twenty seconds in the full-body heater, and I am completely dry. I press my palm to another contraption and a current runs through my head, parting, combing, and drying my hair instantly. My eyes look red and puffy in the mirror, but there is nothing I can do about that.

The door opens then, and Cinna is standing there. "Come on. It's time to go." I walk toward him, my heart pounding in fear and anticipation. I'm glad it's Cinna that will be accompanying me to the launching room.

As we walk to the elevators, Haymitch comes over. He bends down and hugs me, which surprises me. "As soon as the gong goes off, run away and find a source of water. Don't go into the Cornucopia, no matter how tempting it is." he whispers in my ear. Then he pulls back. "Good luck, sweetheart." It's odd: it almost doesn't sound like a joke when he says this.

Cinna and I go to the roof and board a hovercraft that takes off as soon as we are seated. The Capitol streets are deserted: everyone is either drunk from partying last night or sitting at home waiting for the Games to start.

I start to hyperventilate, and Cinna looks at me with concerned eyes. "Would you like something? Perhaps a glass of water?" I nod, and a fancy Capitol attendant brings me a glass of cold water. I gulp it down, then get a second cup. They offer me food, but anything I eat at this point will be thrown up.

I think of Katniss. Right now, she is sitting in our tiny house, staring at our ratty old TV, willing me to come home. My heart aches. Why did it have to be me? Why couldn't some other unfortunate girl have been Reaped for the Hunger Games?

The windows black out all at once. It would have been scary, but it's so systematic it was obviously planned. And windows blacking out is a small fear compared to what is about to happen. We must be nearing the arena. The thought sends a shiver up my spine.

The hovercraft lands smoothly. Right now, we are under the arena. This will be my home, my only reality for the next few weeks. Or minutes, depending on how long I last.

Cinna unpacks a small bag that holds my clothes. He had no say in this outfit; every tribute will be wearing the same exact thing. He hands me the clothes: undergarments, simple tawny pants, a light green blouse, a sturdy brown belt, and a thin, hooded black jacket that falls to my thighs. The material is strange, and I've never felt it before.

Cinna notices. "It's designed to reflect body heat. Expect some cool nights." He then hands me skintight socks and soft leather boots, which I put on. "There. Do they fit well?"

Of course they fit perfectly. I sit down on a hard chair and put my head on my legs. I am shaking, and I'm glad I refused the food: anything I would have eaten earlier would be gone now. I start breathing heavily again. Cinna rubs his hand across my back, comforting me until the last second.

"Oh! I almost forgot," Cinna reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bracelet. I don't recognize it at first, but then I remember: it's the bracelet Gale gave me as my token. Cinna fastens it around my wrist. "You know, a token is nice to have. It lets you cling to a small piece of yourself." he smiles slightly, but I can't return the gesture.

"Please proceed to the launching tube." The cool female voice plays over the last speaker, just like it did for our Gamemaker sessions. My head flies up and my heart skips a beat, panicked. I can't do this alone.

Cinna takes my hand and guides me to the tube. He then encases me in his arms. "Don't worry, my Fire Girl. You'll set them ablaze." He kisses the top of my head softly, then gently pushes me forward into the tube. I turn to face him as the door closes. I take a shaky breath as they shut with the final bang.

The tube starts to move up. My hands fly to the sides, panicked. I lock eyes with Cinna one last time, and he nods. I try to stand up straighter, but I'm not that much taller.

I close my eyes and wait for my torment to begin.

KATNISS EVERDEEN

I gasp and jerk awake, my eyes flying open. It's dark, and for a moment I'm not sure if I'm dead or alive. But no, my heart is beating and I am still breathing.

I lay there for a few moments, shaking. It's wet, and it takes me a second to realize I am lying in a pool of sweat.

It felt so real. The nightmare is always the same: Prim dying. The reason is always different: Dying in a mine explosion like my Father, starving to death because I can't take care of her.

But this time was different. It was like I was there, watching it happen. The monster from District Two, I think his name is Cato, was pounding her to death. Her skull was punched in, but she was still alive, moaning and bleeding. Her arm was snapped, her eye was swollen, and her mangled body was twisted beyond recognition. And all I could do was scream as my little sister was beaten to a bloody pulp in the Hunger Games.

I feel wetness on my cheeks and brush it away, frustrated. My little sister means the world to me, and if she dies, I die.

And today could be the day she dies.

I suck in the air in large gulps; I am like a drowning girl who has finally surfaced after ten minutes. I gasp at the air, trying to clear my mind and focus on breathing. But every time I get close to relative calm, my thoughts drift to the Hunger Games, and the whole things starts again.

I force myself to calm down. I have to believe she will come home because, as I have told myself so many times before, if I don't have hope, I don't have anything.

I get up out of bed and pull my hair into a braid, carefully combing all of the knots out of it. When I am done with that, I brew a pot of tea, taking my time. I have found that if my hands are busy, it is easy to forget. Not forget, exactly; more like I don't think. I would take the numbness over the pain any day.

After a skimpy breakfast of tea and bread and soup flavored with the turkey bones, I turn on the TV. It's just junk form the Capitol; little videos from the party last night, some chatting between Caesar and Claudius Templesmith about last night's interviews. Prim's lovely form pops up, and Claudius starts talking about Cinna's brilliance. My heart aches as I look at her, and I close my eyes.

I'm not sure what to do, but I have seen some people in the District pray before. I'm not a religious person, but if there is a God, I need His help right now. I fold my hands and bow my head. Please, please save Prim. I love her with all my heart, and I need her to come home. A lump forms in my throat. This is my one wish, my one prayer. Please, please save Prim.

"Here we are, just one minute away from the start of the Games. Are you as excited as I am, Caesar?"

My head snaps up. One minute?

"You betcha. Oh look, here come our tributes now."

The camera comes up out of the ground, almost like you are watching from the eyes of a tribute. My stomach clenches.

The Cameras then zoom out and soar around the arena, showing everything across it. There are miles and miles of forest, a huge lake, and a sheer drop-off that opens into a field of golden grains. My eyes fall on the forest, which is just like the one outside my fence. I feel like pounding my head in. I should have taken Prim out there more!

The Cameras cut in close to the tributes and flash through their faces one by one. Cato, the District Five girl, Rue, the crippled boy from Ten, Peeta, Glimmer, the boy from Three, Prim.

Prim. She looks unsure of herself. In the brief second that the camera settles on her face, I can see the uncertainty in her eyes.

"The woods!" I want to shout at her. "Go to the woods!" But she can't hear me, not where she is.

I hear a sniffle and my eyes shoot over to my Mother, who looks like she has lost fifteen pounds in the course of one week. I can't look too good, either, but I don't care.

"Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six." The cameras zoom out to get the perfect view of the bloodbath. The Capitol will capture and replay each death individually later, in detail, when nothing exciting is happening.

I hope to the God I just prayed to that one of those deaths is not Prim's.

"Five. Four. Three. Two."

My eyes settle on Prim's little blonde head. I will not take my eyes off her; I will watch her every move.

"One."

The gong sounds, and she starts running.

PRIMROSE EVERDEEN

I open my eyes when the plate stops moving. I look around, my breathing shallow. Sixty seconds. That's how long I have to take in everything. If I step off before sixty seconds, the land mines will blow me to pieces. It happened once before, when a girl dropped her token. It was messy.

I look around me. To my back and left are the woods, there is a lake to my right, and directly across from me is a steep drop-off. I remember Haymitch's instructions in my mind clearly: Do not go into the Cornucopia. Find a source of water.

My eyes land on the Cornucopia, and I am astonished by the mere size of it. It is golden, and at least twenty feet tall. It is stacked high with everything that will give life in the arena. Right by the mouth is a silver bow, already strung, and my thoughts automatically go to Katniss. Katniss, with her braid and bow, always so strong. If she were here, she could win. And I know what she would want me to do.

I position my feet to run into the woods, but I hesitate. Just three feet away is a small loaf of bread and a small sheet of plastic. I know I need something, and I can't think of anything the plastic could be useful for. Butfood might not be so easy to come by. Besides, it's right there. I could easily grab it and run before anyone caught me.

"Ten."

I am startled by the voice. Have I really already been here almost a minute?

"Nine."

I shift back and forth on my feet, unsure of which direction I want to take.

"Eight. Seven."

My eyes dart around and land on Rue, a couple of tributes away. She looks like she is going to run into the Cornucopia.

"Six. Five."

Should I join her or should I run?

"Four. Three."

I close my eyes. My brain isn't working; my feet are unsure of their course.

"Two."

I open my eyes, and I know where I need to go. I position my feet to run.

"One."

The gong sounds, and I take off.