I think it was about three o'clock when I finally got to sleep and the clock says it's seven thirty when Jayda wakes me. Today is the day. I take a long shower, using the cleaning cycle that's strong but has the weakest smell. Who knows if there will even be water in the arena.
I get dressed into some denim shorts and a vest top as I will be given the arena outfit
I walk down to breakfast which is very awkward, everyone just stares at their food, and Byron still isn't eating with us. I eat a bit of toast but soon fill nauseous, I may not live to see dinner. Instead I sit there sipping water as I don't want to be dehydrated.
After breakfast Jayda says goodbye and she actually seems sad to see me go and I guess in a weird way I'll miss her too. Quentin accompanies me to the launch bay where he looks at me with tears in his eyes.
"Quentin, I'll-"
"Don't say goodbye because you're coming out and you're coming out alive. Now remember, there'll be some sort of pile of food and weapons. Run from it, run and don't look back. Just keep running and hide." It's odd how his words echo mine from yesterday only his are running to survival.
"Quentin," I smile even though it's the last thing I want to do, my hands are visibly shaking, "how are you going to mentor the games every year if you care this much?"
"Exactly why you need to win, then you get this job." He says seriously. The helicopter blades start to whir and I can see Blake getting on.
"Well, I'll see you soon. Hopefully." I say and I feel like crying, I didn't realise how close I'd gotten to Quentin, I guess he's like a father to me in only a week but if there's anyone, any adult rather, that I'd rather trust with my life it's him.
"That's right you will. Keep running Tori." He says and leaves.
I turn to the helicopter and climb the steep ramp, as soon as I enter, the door shuts and the sound from the blades disappears. A Capitol attendant points me to a room to my right which I enter to see what looks like a lounge the size of our floor at the orphanage.
Blake is sitting in one of the comfy arm chairs. I sit opposite him and am met immediately by a Capitol worker with a needle.
"Your tracker, honey! For when you're in there! That's how we know where you are so that the cameras can find you!" She says, beaming. She jabs it in my arm and I feel a sharp pinch as the tracker goes in.
"So Tori," starts Blake, "are you excited? And I get to go all the way to the Arena with you. When we get there we see your outfit and get you ready and" I drone Blake out as I normally do, occasionally smiling and nodding.
I sit there sipping water and my stomach churns. Every minute I sit there we get closer to the arena and ultimately my death. Many different scenarios fill my head, a desert in drought, frozen expanses with no cover, a swamp for people to drown. The arena could be anything.
After about half an hour I think Blake realises that I'm not really listening and settles himself by reading magazines with grotesque people in strange fashions on the front. I twist my bracelet; I do this often to remind myself of home.
The helicopter begins to land and my hands feel clammy. I stumble to the door just as we land and I walk down the ramp. We are led down corridors lined by peacekeepers and into a small room underground. Above me is the arena, I grip my bracelet tighter.
Blake comes in after me, his purple coat swishing behind him, in his arms a black dry cleaner bag. I'm guessing that's my outfit.
"Ready?" He asks he seems excited. He opens it to reveal khaki combat trousers, a brown t-shirt and a thick black jumper with a hood. In a box next to it are large black boots and thick green socks.
"Well?" I ask hoping the outfit gives some indication of the arena.
"Well the trousers and t-shirt are quite thin which means it could be hot but the jumper is thermal so that means cold. The boots are sturdy, thick sole so hard terrain and the socks are thick so again they'll keep you warm but then why are the trousers and shirt so thin? Hmm." I glare at him, is that it, is that all he can tell me?
I get dressed in it anyway; the boots seem to be moulded to my feet. Blake ties my hair up into my usual ponytail only making sure that none of it falls into my face.
"Oh! The colours! They might be camouflage so that would mean...green jelly babies? So you're going to at least have food!" Blake squeals incredibly happy with himself.
"Or it could be trees, like in a forest." I say humouring him.
"Good one or it could be all water only the water could have some green dye in it! And then in the Arena you'd just be swimming around all green!" He is actually being serious. I don't even bother to try and mask my eye roll.
A voice overhead tells me that I need to stand on the circular disk now. I walk over, this is it. My palms are sweating and I feel dizzy but I manage to pull myself together. I have to stay strong, especially now. I place my feet on the disk.
"Oh and Tori! Let the Odds favour you! Wait no that's not it. In your favour shall the odds ever be! Wait that's not it eith-" Blake's cut off by the plastic tube that is rising around the disk at my feet. There is this suction feeling as all sound is cut off. All I can hear is the steady beat of my heart and the disk moves slowly upwards.
The disk clicks into place and I hear a booming voice overhead.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the first ever Hunger Games begin!" Sixty seconds, that's all I have, if I go a second earlier I'll get blown to pieces. My heartbeat is keeping count for me. I slowly look around, surveying the Arena.
In the middle is a large cornucopia filled to the brim with weapons, food and other objects. Each of the other tributes stand on a disk in a large circle around the cornucopia. I'd say we're about a hundred metres from it.
Byron is about five plates around from me; his eyes are set on the bounty at the cornucopia. If I wasn't watching him I wouldn't have noticed, his plate gives a barely perceptible tilt and Byron stumbles forwards, to be blown to pieces. Twenty Three contestants left.
I look around at the rest of the arena, we are surrounded by hedges all the way along the circle, and every now and then there are some gaps in them leading to paths. Each of these paths is littered with objects, down one to my left there is food, the one to my right there are weapons.
In short the arena is a maze, which will make hiding hard. I turn to face the path nearest me, which is behind me. I see a few others turn to paths though most focus on the cornucopia. The path in front of me is littered with supplies, mostly back packs. I ignore the thought of the hammock in the cornucopia and focus instead on a dull grey bag.
I get into position to flee, my head seems cloudy again. I think the gamemakers are rising the temperature to what it would normally be this time of day meaning this is going to be a very hot arena. I stretch out my hands ready to run down the path.
10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. A gong sounds and the Hunger Games begin.