A/N- Ok... right... this is much later than I expected... Oops. Sorry. I don't really know why this took me so long... some my inspiration was running low I'm guessing. Oh well, I have at last finished the final chapter before the games! Enjoy ;D

Inva Reinhardt, District 3 POV

I dip my toe into the hot, steaming water. It stings a little, but not enough for me to pull it out. Slowly, as not to overwhelm my body, I slide into the bath. The same, stinging feeling greets me and it takes several moments before I can relax comfortably.

Well, by relax I mean just my body; I can hardly relax my mind. So many thoughts at one time, in one brain, can give you such a headache.

I close my eyelids gently, in an attempt to ease the pressure, and sink further into the scalding water. Air-filled bubbles slide over the top of my torso, creating a sort of protective layer, like bubble wrap. I lift my hand from the water and brush over the bubbles, most resist my touch, while a few of them burst.

I pause and look at the bubbles, another thought forming in my mind. In a way, the bubbles represent tributes; some resist and survive another day, while others break easily and lose. And the cycle will keep going on until eventually only one bubble remains unbroken. Until one Victor remains unbroken.

Sighing, I wipe away the bubbles and sit up. I look to my right, which happens to be a wall, and scan my eyes across the many shelves, filled to the brim with bottles of all sizes and colours. I run my finger along some of them, carefully reading the labels. These ones are all shampoos; from Rose Petal to Coconut Cream. I pick out a Tropical Mango, held in a tall, thin container with a rounded lid. I unscrew the lid and pour out a helping of orange gel.

Rubbing it in my hands, I create a rich, creamy lather, with which I apply generously to my thick, drooping curls. Well, I might as well use as much as I can; after all, this is my last night of sanity. Maybe even my last night ever.

I shake off that thought. I don't want to think about my potential death. At least not now.

About fifteen minutes later, with my hair smelling of a tropical forest and my skin shimmering with glittered body lotion, I'm dressed in a nightgown and lying on my bed. Except it isn't my bed, is it? It's just another rental, just like every other luxury I've had here. And I'll be paying it back with my life.

Stop it, Inva. Stop thinking about death.

But you know it's going to happen.

Yes, but I don't want to think about it.

You'll have to soon.

"Ugh, just leave me alone!" I yell, bolting upright and flinging a cushion across the room.

I stare at the cushion, tossed in a corner, reeling from my mini explosion. I run my hands through my damp hair and breath deeply.

I can't do this right now. I can't sit alone, where thoughts of death are my only company. I just can't deal with my self at the moment. I have to get away from myself.

Jumping off the end of the bed, I quickly walk next door.

My hand hesitates by the door, but the sneaking of my thoughts hurriedly changes my mind and I knock firmly on the door.

I wait for an answer.

"Come in" A whispering voice replies soon after.

My turn the handle and walk in, closing the door quietly behind me.

Fickle is sat in his bed, several cushions propped up against his back. He looks at me with wide eyes, his face blank and emotionless.

"Um, sorry for disturbing you..." I apologise. "I was just... I needed someone to talk to"

He doesn't say anything at first, as if he's asking himself whether or not to let me stay. I stand, feeling kind of awkward, until he finally speaks.

"I can listen"

I give him a half smiles and perch myself on the edge of the bed. His eyes follow me all the while, taking in my every movement. It's sort of creepy, but he is only twelve and I'm sixteen, so maybe it's the age difference that makes him seem so... odd around me. It would seem rude to walk away now, so I'll have to carry on, despite his strange looks.

"Um, well, thanks for letting me stay for a while" I begin, feeling a little awkward.

He nods.

"I, erm, just wanted to talk to someone. I thought that it might relax me before I go to sleep"

"I can't sleep either" Fickle says quietly.

"Are you nervous, then?" I ask.

He bites his bottom lip. "Cheshire told me not to be scared... but I am"

"Is Cheshire you're brother?"

He shakes his head. "Don't have a brother. Cheshire is my friend"

"Oh, I see. Did Cheshire tell you not to be scared when he came to say goodbye?"

Another shake of his little head. "No. He told me today"

I frown. How could he speak to someone from home today? He must be confused.

Unless... Oh, that's it. I think I get it now; Cheshire is his imaginary friend.

"What are you scared of, Fickle?" I ask softly.

His lip quivers as he murmurs. "Blood and dying"

I nod. Well they'll definitely have that in the arena. No need for special additions.

There's a few moments of silence, then Fickle looks to me.

"What are you scared of?"

I don't like to talk about my fears, well, I generally don't like to talk about myself. Not to other people. But Fickle isn't 'other people'; he's just a quite little twelve year old who's scared of dying. I don't often find myself feeling sympathy for anyone, but now, I feel everything. I think it's just his shy nature and the fact that his only friend is imaginary that creates a tiny soft spot for the little boy. And, so, I find myself telling him.

"Darkness"

Horacio Francis, District 10 POV

I sit on the edge of my bed, twiddling my thumbs. I'm not really sure what I'm meant to be doing now. We've eaten dinner, spoke a little about strategies, and then nothing. My mentor and escort just disappeared; made some excuse about checking on something and went. They said they'd be back. But that was two hours ago.

So I've been sitting around in the apartment doing pretty much nothing. Rhea went off to her room about an hour ago, so it looks like it's just me.

As usual.

I guess you could say I'm a bit of a loner. A nobody. A dork. Just someone to push around. To beat up in the alleyway. To make crude jokes about. To have a laugh at. At. Not with. Never with. I have no friends. Never have. Never will. No-one to laugh with, talk to, share secrets with. Not that I have any to share. My life isn't interesting enough to have secrets. It's not even interesting enough to be called a life.

I drop my head into my hands.

"Ok, Horacio, get a grip" I mumble to myself. "Get up and stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're going to die soon anyway, so there's no point in wasting what remains"

I take a deep breath and stand up.

But now I'm standing, I don't know what to do. There's nothing I can do. No maths textbooks, Sudokus, cross-words, decanting puzzles. How I long for some complicated algebra or stars to chart. Just something challenging to keep myself busy and away from thoughts of loneliness and death.

"Right, well there's only one option left" I say out loud. "I'll have to go and speak to Rhea. She's the only other person here besides myself"

I nod confidently. Yes, that's what I'm going to do. Let's not live the rest of my life as a loner. I'm going to socialise.

Walking lightly on my feet, in case she's fallen asleep early, I make my way to Rhea's room. Pausing outside her door, I knock quietly three times. And wait.

There's no reply, but I can hear the soft sound of quiet murmurs and the occasional sniff.

"Um, Rhea? Are you in there?" I ask, knocking again on the solid door.

"Oh, sorry. Yes, come in" A slightly shaky voice answers.

In fact, it sounds like she's crying. Or has been crying. So I slowly turn the doorknob and poke my head round the door.

I can see Rhea, sitting on the floor, clutching something tightly in her hands. Her face is pink and her eyes seem somewhat bloodshot. She looks up and sees my head peeping round.

"It's fine, you can come in" She says.

"Oh, ok then" I reply, stepping into the room. "If you're sure"

She nods and I turn to close the door behind me. Once closed, I turn back and walk over to her.

She shuffles to make a small space for me to sit and I take it, sliding down to the floor to join her.

"What's wrong?" I ask. "You've been crying"

"Me? Crying? Of course not, I just have hay fever" She says, wiping one of her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Oh, poor you" I say. "I thought the pollen count was low here; there aren't many plants... It must be a bad reaction to the very few plants here. They're foreign to your body"

Rhea looks at me, frowning slightly. "Horacio, it was sarcasm"

"Oh"

Ok, I'm feeling ever so slightly stupid now. No, not stupid, that's the incorrect word. Let's see, I'm feeling ever so slightly insensate. Thoughtless. Lack of common sense. Yes, I may be highly skilled and knowledgeable in educational subjects, but I'm a little slow on the topics of sarcasm. I rarely notice when it is used, which often leaves me feeling sociably awkward...

Rhea sighs. "Look, I am crying, ok?"

The edge in her voice makes it seem as if she doesn't often cry and even rarer, admits it.

"Is it because of the Games?" I ask. "Are you scared?"

She shakes her head, her jaw tight. "Nah, I'm past that"

I look at her, feeling slightly confused. "Sarcasm?"

"No, not this time" She gives a little laugh. "Nope, I'm past that too"

"Really?"

"No"

We sit in silence for a while, both just staring out into...well, nothing really. Just staring. And it's quite nice and peaceful really. I guess I've never done anything like this before. My brain always wants to do something, always buzzing for an activity. A maths or science activity. Naturally. But, sitting and doing nothing is quite nice for a change.

"Hey, what's that in your hand?" I ask, curious.

Rhea looks down to her closed fist, then slowly opens it. "It's a friendship bracelet, my brother made it for me"

She holds the thin piece of woven jewellery so I can see. It's not much, quite small really, but I can tell that it means a lot to her.

"How old is he, your brother?" I ask.

"Same age" She replies, closing her fist again. "We're twins"

I nod. "I have an older brother, but we don't really get on. We're too different. He's all into sports and the great outdoors, and I'm into maths and much prefer to stay indoors"

"Hey, have you brought anything from home?"

I look bashfully to the ground. "Um... yeah"

"What is it?"

I reach into my back pocket and pull it out. "...A protractor..."

Rhea giggles a little. "A protractor? Why would you bring that?"

I shrug. "Well, you never know when you're going to need to measure an angle"

She looks at me, shaking her head slowly. "Horacio Francis, you are officially the weirdest boy I have ever met"

I smile, accepting it as a compliment. "The feeling is mutual, Rhea Blakemore"

Victoria Buchegger, District 5 POV

"Then I just swung my sword around, completely effortlessly, and off came three heads at once" Raymond boasts, demonstrating with his cutlery. "You should have seen their faces; they were so impressed"

"I bet they were" I mumble into my glass.

Raymond gives me a sidewards glance, then turns back to his story. The story, might I add, that he has told at least fifty billion times.

"So, of course, I couldn't finish it right there, I had to carry on" He waffles on. "So I took another sword and started darting it here and there, bits of dummy flying everywhere..."

I take a large gulp of my drink. It's bitter. A little too bitter for such a large gulp, so it catches my throat as I swallow, causing me to cough sharply.

Raymond, my mentor and escort all turn their heads, staring at me as I choke. Not one of them offers any help.

I grab the jug of water with one hand, the other clasped across my mouth, and I pour some into an empty glass. I then guzzle the water down, desperate to stop spluttering. It's really off-putting when everyone just watches you choke to death. Ok, not to death...

"Finished yet?" Raymond asks sarcastically, obviously eager to continue with his story.

I give one last cough. "I think so"

"Good" He says, then takes a sip of blue beverage and starts off again. "Anyways, so I'm standing there with two swords, both jammed into dummies and I start to wonder..."

I roll my eyes and go back to my soup.

The brownish, steaming liquid stares back at me. The chunks of vegetables and meat float around, and all of a sudden, they seem to look like chopped up bits of a dummy. Of a person. A head, a shoulder, a torso. All bobbing up and down in a pool of... blood.

I push the bowl to the side.

"Got a problem with the soup?" My mentor asks, frowning.

"Oh, erm, I'm just not a fan of soup" I lie, picking up my glass and carefully sipping at the strong beverage.

I sit quietly, casually drinking, while the others finish their soup. The main course comes soon after; roast chicken stuffed with some fancy stuffing, with mini potato things and seasonal veg. I'm feeling a little more hungry now that the soup has gone.

"Mmm, good chicken" Raymond says, slicing into the breast with ease and shoving a heapful of meat into his mouth.

I still haven't said a word since my incident, so I just nod and continue to eat my meal, in smaller cuts so that I don't choke again. The chicken is very good, tender and juicy. I decide to take each mouthful slowly to savour it all. Because I don't know when I'll eat well next.

"I've never had chicken quite like this back at home" Raymond says, half through chewing. "We were never as fortunate to afford luxuries like stuffed meat, but I suppose I'll be able to afford anything when I get back"

A potato lodges in my throat, but I manage to swallow it before I start coughing again.

"What?" I say. "What do you mean 'when I get back'?"

"You know, when I win this thing and go home" He shrugs.

I slam my cutlery down on the table.

"And who thinks you're gonna win?"

"I do. Besides, I have a way better chance of winning than you. I got a ten in training, remember" He says patronisingly. "And what did you get? Oh, that's right, you got a seven"

That's it. This guy's ego is bigger than the whole of Panem. And he's really starting to get on my nerves.

I stand up vigorously, causing the chair to topple over behind me. Ignoring it, I look to Raymond.

"You know what? I'd rather get a one than be you" I spit at him. "I know I'd be much prouder- and happier"

Saying this, I turn sharply and walk away from the table. There's not a sound behind me, I guess everyone is so shocked at my outburst.

My bedroom isn't far from the dining area, so I reach it fairly quickly. And just because I'm feeling all hot inside, I turn around.

"I hope you choke on your chicken!" I yell back, then storm into my room and slam the door behind me.

My breaths are hot and fast paced as I lean back on the door, my heart thumping. I squeeze my eyelids tight, cursing myself. Sometimes I can easily get so wound up that I just feel like exploding, and more often I do end up exploding, rather than just sitting and letting it boil me up inside. And I did try to keep calm at the dining table, I really did, but it was just Raymond's whole attitude; with the boasting and the exaggerating and the whole 'I'm going to be a Career'. I mean, seriously? Who in their right mind would want Raymond in their alliance? I know I wouldn't.

And thankfully, so so thankfully, Raymond doesn't want to be my ally. Even though we're District partners, I'd rather step off my plate early than be stuck with him... I'd probably end up killing him in his sleep. He's that irritating. Anyways, I have my own alliance. Why would I need him when I have someone I get along with? Yeah, me and the girl from Three, Inva, sort of became friends in training. We were both at the same stations for most of it, so we just shrugged and became allies. Honestly, she's not that bad. A little quiet sometimes, but I'm not really bothered. She got an eight in training, better than me, so she has value.

I've cooled down a little now. No more blood throbbing in my temples, so that's a good sign.

I prize my back off the door and walk over to my bed. It's all laid out neatly; the duvet just overlapping the bottom of the velvet cushions. I sit down, creating a huge dip in the duvet and messing up the whole perfect look. Not that I really care; it's going to get thrown about everywhere anyway. I know that I'll have a nightmare tonight. How could I not? I'm going into the frickin' Hunger Games tomorrow!

I stay silent for a few minutes. The distant sound of cutlery scrapping across plates and teeth clanking against glasses coming from the dining area. I'm not going back there. It'll be too awkward and I'll most probably end up flinging a knife or something at Raymond. Or 'Ray-Ray' he likes to pretend is his nickname. Pfft, you can't give yourself a nickname. That's just sad.

"Stop thinking about that jerk" I order myself, then stand up from the bed and change into my nightwear.

I look down at my nightgown. It's quite plain looking really; a straight silk dress in a white colour, with 'District 5' embroidered in the top, just below my shoulder. My guess is that the boys' version is the same but in pants and a tshirt. Hm, I wonder if it's always been like this. A constant reminder of who you're representing, even when you're sleeping.

I wonder if Alex wore them.

I reckon if he did they'd be pretty small. He was only twelve then, and quite small for his age too. So was I. We were both the smallest in our class. Me with my long red bunches and him with his floppy brown hair. We were a right pair. A matching pair.

Well, until he was reaped. And killed.

I remember that day so vividly in my mind. I was sat in front of the screen, eyes glued to it. Waiting anxiously as the countdown ticked ever so slowly. My eyes desperately scanning for Alex and then seeing him, his face twisted with fear and his hands trembling my his side. And when the clock timed to zero he just froze. Panicked. He was so small, so unprepared and weak that within the first five minutes, he was killed. Gone. His head clean off with a sword.

And I cried and cried. For days, months, years, all I could see was that image of his body collapsing in two heaps. And I still see it now.

A tear trickles down my face and I hastily wipe it.

"No, no" I tell myself. "That was Alex, not you. He was only twelve, you're seventeen. It won't happen again. Not like that"

But my words don't mean anything. They can't change the past. I just hope they'll stop it from repeating.

Zephyr Torelli, District 9 POV

"Are you sure you can be in here?" Elodie asks, concerned.

I close the door gently, quietly, behind me. "I'm sure they won't mind"

"But they said to go and get some sleep" She says.

"And?" I shrug. "They're hardly gonna come and yell at us or anything. We're just talking; it's not like we're doing...anything..."

Elodie pulls a face. "Ew, Zephyr. You're my brother, that's gross"

I laugh. "As if I would even think about that"

Her eyes look away, her head turned slightly from me and she mutters, but just loud enough for me to hear her say.

"I bet you would with that girl from Eleven"

I sigh and walk over to her.

"Luna's just a friend, that's all" I assure her.

Elodie rolls her eyes. "Yeah, of course. Because friends don't stand around obviously flirting with each other..."

"We were not flirting"

"Spare me the excuses, Zeph. I saw the way she looked at you, with her pretty little face and high pitched giggle"

"It isn't a high pitched giggle, she sometimes snorts" I point out.

"Ugh! That's my point!" She exclaims, walking away.

I don't bother following her. "What is your problem with her?"

Elodie gives a brief sigh and sits on the edge of her bed, looking down at her laced fingers.

"It's not her exactly" She says. "I just don't want you getting too close to anyone else"

Then, in quieter words she says. "I don't want you to leave me"

"Oh, Elodie" I sigh, walking over and sitting beside her.

She leans her body into mine and rests her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her closely.

I hold her for a minute, letting her cuddle up to me. I can feel her small breaths on my chest, the heat seeping through my tshirt. She feels so small and venerable, just curling up to me like I'm her protector. Well, I guess I am her protector. I kinda always have been. In a way. Like when we were younger, I was always the loud and bubbly one, while Elodie was shy and quiet. As we got older, she would occasionally get teased about her shyness and I was always straight there, sorting it out; fighting her battles for her. That's how it always was. Still is. She relies on me; I know it. That's why I volunteered, I suppose. To protect her.

"Zephyr?" Elodie mumbles into my tshirt.

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared"

Something wet touches my skin. I straighten up and Elodie lifts her head, leaving behind a small damp patch on my tshirt. Right where her face was.

"Hey, don't cry" I say softly, wiping a tear from her pink cheek.

She sniffs. "I can't help it. I'm petrified"

"So am I" I admit. "I'm completely terrified"

She wipes her eyes. "You're supposed to make me feel better"

I give a small smile. "I can't lie, can I?"

She shrugs.

"But I can tell you something" I drop to a low whisper. "There's one thing greater than fear"

"What?" She says, then adds sarcastically. "Love?"

I shake my head. "Nope. Belief"

"I doubt God is going to send us a ticket out of here" She mumbles.

"Maybe not" I say. "But you need to believe in yourself. In me. And we'll be fine, ok?"

She seems sceptical, but nods anyway.

"Come on, get in bed. You need to get some sleep" I tell her.

She nods, pulls back the duvet and slides into bed. The duvet is pulled right up under her chin, so just her head is visible. I adjust her cushion under her head and bend my head down, kissing her forehead lightly.

"Goodnight, little sis" I whisper to her.

She frowns. "We're the same age"

"Oh, right. Sometimes I forget that. Anyways, don't keep yourself up thinking, ok?"

She nods.

"Ok then. Goodnight" I say, standing up.

I flick the switch of the lamp, plummeting the room in almost complete darkness. Just the light from the outside rooms peeps in from under the door. Carefully, I make my way over to the door and creak it open, leaving just a small space for me to squeeze through. I shuffle half my body out, but then pause. Looking over to Elodie, who's eyes watch me from her bed, I whisper.

"Tomorrow's still a day away"

I then pull the rest of my body through and close the door, leaving Elodie curled up in her bed like a small child.

Leaning back on the door, close my eyes tightly and think.

Did I do the right thing by volunteering? Or am I just an idiot with wishful thinking?

A/N- PHEW. That's the six Capitol chapters done. Finished. Boom. That was hard. But I hope you liked them!

Ok, time for my usual questions on the characters:
What are your views on Inva, do you think she has much of a chance and will she escape the Bloodbath? Horacio, do you feel for him and honestly, how far do you reckon he'll get? (his one might surprise you...) So, do you think Victoria will ever stop clutching onto her memories of Alex during the Games and how about her sudden outburst? And last of all, Zephyr. Is the sweet, caring brother an idiot with wishful thinking?

Let me know it all! I want to know every little thought that popped into your mind while reading this (with boundaries, guys ;D )

And next, the moments we have all been waiting for...THE BLOODBATH IS UP NEXT CHILDREN! (ahhh so exciteddddd)

So... WHO WILL SURVIVE IT AND WHO WILL SUCCUMB TO THEIR DEATHS? (any ideas?)

Also, I really want to know WHO ARE YOUR FAVOURITE TRIBUTES, WHO WILL YOU BE BACKING?

Thanks to all who submitted and thanks to my loyal readers and reviewers!

Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx