A/N: I'm writing this for some friends of mine with their characters, so if you recognize any one, they asked me to write them in. Also, this is my first Hunger Games piece, so please don't be mad if I got something wrong.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games in any way, shape, or form

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Gathering up her pack, she paid no attention as the true killers descended from above. She told herself a story from when she was young, a favorite of hers. It helped keep her sane and helped her shed no tears, the cannon blasts still fresh in her head. Guzzling down some water, she took off of the trail and began her journey once more…

That night, I dreamt of songbirds in a meadow carpeted with the greenest grass I had ever seen. A waterfall cascaded over a cliff, creating a lake, somehow leaving no ripples in the glass water. My clothing was white, delicate like silk, yet warmer than I knew that material could be. It would have puzzled me, yet I saw two figures talking in hushed tones, stroking a blue bird. One of them was tall, broad shouldered, though her smile was as dazzling as the sun. Next to her, an older woman sang a song in hushed tones I couldn't make out. Her hair fell gracefully down her shoulders, the color of golden honey. Approaching them, I tried to ask them who they were, yet they shook their head and insisted I needed to wake up. And so, I reluctantly did, forgetting the dream almost instantly.

A shock of blue hair stood above me, "Come on, dear, it's time."

Nodding, I climbed out of bed, feeling a slight sense of déjà vu. With a pang of guilt, I realized that it was my father whom Reiyla was reminding me of. Though, they didn't seem anything alike; they were just too different. Perhaps Reiyla reminded me of Jenny…? No…They too were almost polar opposites. For the life of me, I just couldn't place who Reiyla was similar to, something that frustrated me as I was lead to the breakfast table.

Reiyla and I were the first ones up, Kayt and Kristor coming together a few minutes later. They couldn't stay all too long, as the mentors had their own area to stay during the Games. Our breakfast was spent in silence, Quip showing up almost ten minutes later. As soon as Quip sat down at the table, Kristor motioned for me, asking if we could talk in private.

Once we had stepped inside a room, Reiyla's, I noted, Kristor turned to me, "I know you joined up with the Careers, but I would trust them more than I would trust Quip."

I felt a bit startled, though logic told me that Kristor was right. Quip had been unpredictable the entire time that we had been at the Capitol, which I think was a week or so. I wasn't all too sure, since we spent most of our time training and being paraded around like dolls. No one but Quip knew what he would be planning to do once we were in the arena. Nodding at my mentor, he exchanged a small smile, saying something I'm sure no mentor would want to say.

"You're my favorite, Cait," he said, "I think you can win."

Sooner than I would have liked, Reiyla was ushering us onto the hovercraft. Looking down, I spent the three hour journey trying to figure out what kind of arena we would be in. Part of me knew it was pointless to try and guess that way, yet I felt better knowing as much information as possible. I glanced around, trying to see how many people's names I still knew. I knew all of them; that wouldn't help later. Next to me sat the girl from District Twelve, a fourteen year old named Kitty. Her hair was a reddish brown, no doubt pulled into a messy ponytail from nervousness this morning. When the women inserted her tracker into her arm, I saw a slight tear go down her cheek.

To my left was a quivering boy, he must have been Jespin, I thought to myself. His skin was dripping with sweat, causing him to give an anguished cry as the tracker was placed inside of his arm. I knew a minute later that it didn't a hurt a bit; it hurt a lot. Yet, reminding myself to remain my appearance as a Career, I bit my tongue so as to not let out a strangled gasp.

"You will each have five minutes as your stylist prepares you. You will wait for sixty seconds before the Games will begin. If you step off your platform early, you will be blown up by the mines," the woman said cruelly, "And may the odds be ever in your favor."

Once we were landed, each of us was taken to our own separate prep room. In the whole existence of Panem, these rooms were never and will never be reused. Some of the Capitol people enjoyed to tour them, visiting the prep rooms of their favorite tributes. Dad told me that before there was Panem, people could go wherever they liked and see all sorts of wonderful things. Even people from different parts of the world could go and see the President's house up close and in person, without the fear of being shot for false charges. People could go and see historical sites as well, and gaze upon the most official documents without the slightest bit of fear. It sounded wonderful to me, and I wished I had been born then, instead of now. Yet, both of those things rang as impossible inside of my head.

Sheehan gave me a grave smile, stripping me down and suiting me up. The pants were black, streaked with red, and made from some sort of flexible material. Thank goodness they were waterproof and insulated as well; they didn't really look like they'd provide much protection to me. A dark blue long sleeve shirt, the color that I got to select myself, was added on next, made out of cotton by the feel. Finally, a black jacket, also with red stripes, was zipped on top, being made from the same material as the pants. Sheehan placed thick wool socks on my feet, then a dark brown boot with several laces. For some reason, we were provided with gloves as well, grips on each of the fingers. Logical reasoning told me that we would have to climb something, and perhaps the Capitol decided to be a bit kind and lessen the difficulty of our task slightly. Finally, he braided back my blonde hair, keeping the bangs out of my eyes; the single braid designed to make it a bit harder for someone to grab my hair.

He turned to me, glanced around as if to make sure no one was watching, and whispered, "I'm so so sorry…"

Looking into his eyes, I was a bit shocked to realize that they were brown. So many people here had brown eyes; it made my own eyes water a bit. Without even thinking about it, I embraced Sheehan in a quick hug, which he returned. I felt safe, even if it would only be for a second. He reluctantly let go, guiding me onto the tube that would shoot me up into the arena. Something told me that he didn't always hug the tributes he styled for.

Looking at him, I blurted, "If I don't make it, tell Dad I love him! Tell him I'm okay!"

Too soon, I was sealed off from the rest of the world, and shot up into the arena. I didn't get to see or hear what Sheehan's reply was. It saddened me greatly, yet I quickly composed myself, squinting, so my eyes would not be shocked by the light. In my head, I began a countdown, providing a slight comfort. Going over the facts, I smiled a bit to a person who wasn't there, and hadn't been for a while. I'd be okay; after all, I had joined up with the Careers. It's extremely rare that a Career doesn't survive the Bloodbath, and the Gamemakers must have provided some throwing stars, just for me.

The first thing I noticed was that it was not nearly as bright as I had expected. The atmosphere of the arena was dark and gloomy, storm clouds rolling in above us. In the distance, I could hear thunder booming and lightning striking with a sickening crack. Thankfully, it hadn't begun to rain, yet a feeling in my gut said that wouldn't last all too long. All twenty four of us formed a circle, facing the Cornucopia which glinted golden, despite the sinister sky. Weapons and packs spilled out of it, everyone eying the forbidden treasures.

All around the country of Panem, schools would be assembling together in front of a big screen. People at work would be given their breaks early, gathering at home or in the town square. Homemakers sat, babies and toddlers in hand, staring at the TV screen some of them owned. Everyone was waiting, an eerie silence surely enveloping, broken only by the sobs of those who's loved one was on a platform. In the Capitol, people were sipping cocktails, exchanging slips of paper on which of us would make it out of the Bloodbath. The Mentors were sitting, ready to figure out what sponsor gifts to distribute. Yet, I couldn't help but dwell upon the name of the man who was sponsoring me. Was he doing the same thing as the other people? Or was the mysterious Alois like my father, hoping and crossing his fingers that I'd make it out okay?

Realizing that I had wasted thirty of my precious seconds thinking about other people, I looked around me to examine the arena. To my right was Jack, bouncing lightly on his pedestal, ready to go and fight. Next to him stood Beau, already eyeing his prey as if he had already won the fight. On my left was little Emily, surveying the arena with wide eyes before settling on a bag set in front of us. Something inside of it was glinting, leading me to hope that it was my throwing stars. I knew that no matter what, I'd beat her to them first.

The Gamemakers must have wanted a pretty elaborate Hunger Games this year, judging from the city to the northeast of me. I glanced up and down at the shinning buildings, covered with windows, and I thought it was too good to be true. The saying 'there's no such thing as free lunch' was almost rule number one here in the arena. Those buildings must have been a trap, determined to draw in the weak. Emily must have seen the city as well, angling her feet to run towards it as fast as she could, instead of the dense forest behind her.

A vast sea lied in the northwest, the waves crashing angrily onto the beach, dousing the sand with spray. Squinting, I could barely make out a small oasis on the other side; no doubt a reward for any tributes who actually knew how to swim. With a chuckle, I realized that was just about the only skill they didn't teach you during training. Unfortunately, it just served as an advantage to Amy and Brine, and perhaps the few others who also knew how.

With only fifteen seconds left, I quickly turned to glance behind me. Tall, steep mountains greeted me, tumbling rocks creating a slight drum sound. A howling sound echoed, telling me that the refuge among the mountains came with the danger of wolves and wild dogs. Caves were scattered here and there, no doubt playing home to bears, and the scared tributes. Remembering my guess from earlier, I confirmed that the Gamemakers intended us to have to climb a bit to get up. The highest cave had an enormous drop, I having to crane my neck in order to get a good look at it. With certainty, I knew I would not want to go explore that area alone. Though, I knew that most likely, the Careers would have Quip or I on guard duty, that being the reason he probably got us into the pack. Still, I couldn't help but ponder what he had said, or what he had done to get us into the alliance. Too bad I'd likely never find out.

Finally, I spent the very little time I had before it started to locate where Brine was. He stood about five platforms to my right, right next to Quip, whom was right next to Jade. Luckily, Brine's District Partner wasn't near him at all, so she wouldn't be able to aid him as the battle started. Hopefully, Tex and Arissa would be able to keep her occupied, which is something I didn't doubt, looking at the glint in Arissa's pale golden brown eyes. Ditie and Caine formed a line, the almost perfect diameter of the circle, so they would certainly be able to prevent her if she did get past Arissa. Taking a deep breath, I stood lightly on the balls of my feet, knowing that my speed would be quicker this way. Bending my knees, I began the countdown silently…

Five…

Sarah Jane, Luke, and Maria must have been watching this together; sitting in their little home, using the excuse of a relation to the tribute to pull Luke and Maria out of school.

Four…

Was Jenny watching up from above? Were Mother and her praying for me, hoping that I'd make it out okay?

Three…

Quip's family must have been watching this too, hoping that he'd be the Victor. I hoped that they'd be all right.

Two…

Dad must have been watching this with Sarah Jane too. Was he okay? Was he crying? Or did he feel confident that I'd make it?

One…

He knew I loved him, didn't he?

Zero…