Author's Note: This is the last chapter before the Games start! Yay! Now remember, the more you review, the longer your tribute's POV will be. I'm not trying to be unfair or anything, I just want to give the people who provide me feedback a bit of a reward. Again, some people didn't give me outfits so I had to make some things up.

POVs in this Chapter:

Everyone from District Seven to District Twelve

-Phoebe D7-

My hands are slick with sweat; I keep having to dry them off on my dress. The tight, lacey material of my outfit has become wrinkled. I try to smooth out the kinks before Erik wraps up his interview- I'll never hear the end of it if my stylist sees what I've done to my gown.

Before I know it, the interviewer is calling my name. Whispering a prayer, I get up and walk with poise past Erik. I offer a small smile to him and he returns the gesture. He's nice; we might have been friends in another life.

I take a seat across from Cimmara and arrange my dress so that part of my legs are visible; just like my stylist instructed me to do.

"Hello, sweet pea! That is a wonderful dress! I haven't seen anything like it!"

I cock a brow at her; that's what she's said to every girl so far. What happened to a little thing called originality?

Instead of saying something sarcastic, I smile brightly, "Thank you."

She nods, "Of course! So why don't we start this interview with a little bit of information about yourself? Tell us something interesting about your life!"

"Well, my parents own a clothing store, I have a lot of friends, I love to laugh and joke around, school is one of my favorite places in the world, and dating just so happens to be a hobby of mine!"

Cimmara claps enthusiastically, "Oh, yay! Finally, we have someone that's had a few romantic experiences! Tell us, what's your boyfriend like?"

My brows knit together at the thought of Crane, my latest (and recently dumped) boy toy, "Well, I'm not exactly with anyone right now, but I just broke it off with a guy about ten days ago."

Her mouth pulls down sadly, "What? Why?"

I shrug, "It wasn't fun anymore. The more we got to know each other, the less there was to figure out. It was a mutual agreement; so we're still friends."

Big Boob Cimmara smiles brightly, "So you're currently looking for someone else to make eyes at, yes?"

I laugh whole heartedly, "No! I'm about to be thrust into a world where everyone wants to kill you! Romance is the least of my priorities!"

She frowns in disappointment, "Oh, I see." She straightens and grins cheerily once more, "Then tell us some more about your personal life! What is your family like? And your friends?"

I sigh dejectedly, is this an interview or an interogation? "Well, I have a nineteen year old brother, his name is Aether, and he lives with his fiance. I don't see very much of him. I also have a younger sister, she's eight. Her name is Aphrodite, but she's nothing like the goddess she's named after- she's really shy and very quiet. My mom and dad are very hard working people, my dad is the one who owns our clothing store. It was passed down through the family."

The rest of my time moves by in a flash. Altogether, I feel worried. How did I do? Did the people like me? They clapped a lot, and whistled, but does that really mean anything at all? Please, someone please sponsor me!

-Forrest D7-

I rise from my seat as the interviewer calls my name. There must be a million pairs of eyes on me, including the gazes of those watching this on television. My breathing is uneven, but my steps are sure. Phoebe passes me on the way back to her seat and I refuse to acknowledge her. I haven't talked to anyone since the train rides. What's the point? I'm not going to get attached. It may seem a bit cruel, but I'm pretending that each of my fellow tributes are just peices in a game. Like chess. There are the pawns- lower district tributes who haven't ever handled a weapon or struck another living person in their life. There are rooks and bishops, the ones that are in between- the people who can survive just using their own sense of preservation. There are knights- they can fight, but they don't do it because they want to. Then there are kings and queens- the Careers.

I take a seat across from Cimmara. She smiles excitedly, "My! You are a handsome young thing!"

I just sit there. What does she want me to say? Thanks? She doesn't mean it.

Her eyes dart over to a camera and then back to me, "How do you feel about being here today?"

I raise my brows, "Being here in the interviews? Or just in general?"

"Um, the interviews?" I can tell she's to afraid to ask what I think about the games.

"I don't like it, but I can't change anything. No use in crying over something that's irriversible."

Her forhead wrinkles, "I suppose. Do you have some type of goal that's driving you?"

My heartbeat falters at the mental image of my little brother, "My younger sibiling."

She smiles, "Oh? What's his name?"

"Elliot."

"You must miss him."

I blink, "Of course."

She shifts uncomfortably and clears her throat, "Anything you'd like us to know about yourself?"

I think for a moment, "I don't have secrets. Everything you see is everything I've got that's interesting about me."

She nods, "Okay."

The interview is a drag. I tell her what she wants to know, and keep all my answers short and to the point. I don't want to give anything away. I can't risk playing pretend for these people just to hook a few sponsors. Every word that comes out of my mouth reveals something about me- something that another tribute can use against me in the Games.

-Natalie D8-

I fiddle with the hem of my dress. It's short, and a blinding yellow. It accentuates my dark hair and clings to my curvy figue. Already I've recieved many cat calls and wolf whistles. Is it conceited of me to be proud about that? I don't think so. Man, if my girls could see some of the guys here! The male population is beyond dreamy!

Next to me, Zach watches D7 boy's interview with detatched interest. I can't help but notice how nice he looks in his suit. Even if he is a tad arrogant. Before the interviews began, he scooted as far away from me as possible, but not so far away that he was closer to the D9 girl than me. I roll my eyes at him. I mean, we don't have to be friends, but who says we're enemies? As far as he's concerned everyone is out to get him.

I press my lips together; no one here wants to be friends with me. No one wants to talk, or smile. I know it's the Games, but everyone (with only one exception) is going to die! Why waste what little time we have being so down and out? My heart breaks a bit at the thought of my band. God I miss them!

I miss the interviewer calling my name while I'm day dreaming. The only reason I ever get up is because Zach practically pushes me out of my chair. Glaring at him threateningly, I straighten up and turn on my heel towards Cimmara.

She grins as she watches me approach her and I throw a wave to the audience. They cheer ecstatically and jump to catch my kisses.

I laugh at the goofs and sit down sexily across from the interviewer. The blue haired ditz beams with joy, "My gosh you're beautiful! I mean you're gorgeous!" She turns to the audience, "What do you think guys?"

They leap to their feet and clap erratically, their shouts are so abundant that I can't make out one word of anything.

My cheeks heat from the attention and I turn away shyly, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it! So, a beautiful girl like you must have tons of boyfriends!"

I smile, "Well, I've been around."

She grins almost naughtily, "Good to hear! What are your hobbies?"

Finally! "Playing instruments! I love my guitar! It's my entire life!"

"Oh, you play? Does that mean you can sing too?"

I nod excitedly, "Absolutely! I'm the lead singer in my band back home."

Her eyes become vibrant, "You have a band?"

"Mm-hm."

The woman smacks her knee, "You have to play something for us! Perhaps, when you become victor, you can get your band together and play for us during your tour!"

I am taken aback. No one has said anything like that to me, not since I said goodbye to my friends. She seems so confident in saying it- like it's already happened.

I manage to stutter out a reply before my silence makes a fool of me, "Of- of course. That would be wonderful."

"What kind of music do you play?" She inquires with vigor.

Jumping slightly with excitement at getting to mention the Beatles, I reply a little to hastily, "I am a true fan of the Beatles. We've redone all of their songs! And no, we haven't modernized any of them with some trashy techno beat! We're hoping that if we save up enough money we can start to publicize ourselves."

"Well, when you win you wont have any trouble with that!"

My face goes blank as I process her statement. I never really thought about it that way. I've been so focused on the fact that I could die, I haven't thought about the rewards awaiting me if I win. Man, this could actually be kind of awesome! "I guess so."

She smiles and pinches my knee, "My money is on you babe!"

I flinch at the action, and she continues to ask her invasive questions. The rest of the interview is a daze; I'm too busy thinking about my band hitting it big time to really pay attention. I can't believe it! I'm going to be a star! Wait, wait, wait. First I have to win... but I can't murder anyone. Maybe I could kill if I was forced to, but not out of pure malice or anything. What if I could be one of the few victors that win without killing? That'd be nice. I think it would also provide me more publicity.

-Zach D8-

Natalie wraps up her interview quickly; I can't help but notice that she seems a bit distracted. Her answers come out a little mixed, and some just don't make any sense at all. Never the less, the crowd roars with approval as she waltzes off the stage.

Getting up, I straighten my jaket, and walk confidently towards Cimmara. When Nat passes me, she gives me a small wink and whispers 'Good luck'. Snorting, I roll my eyes. Stupid girl. Can't she understand that I don't like her? One would have thought pushing her out of her chair would be at least a small hint. There's no way to make that girl hate anything. It's like she completely forgets every offensive remark or action committed against her only a few moments after they happen.

When I finally reach my seat, Cimmara is grinning like a cheshire cat. I scowl at her in disgust. Don't even think about it lady- there's no way I'd ever tap that, and vice versa.

"Oh goodness we've got a handsome one here!"

I don't consider anything about my appearance inviting, so I just shrug off her comment.

"How are you feeling?"

I lean back into the chair and cross my legs, "Completely fine."

One of her brows arch, "Really? You're not even a little nervous? That's good! Perfect Hunger Games material!"

I don't reply.

She clears her throat awkwardly and continues, "Of course what else should we have expected? I remember you smiling like it was your birthday during the reapings! Were you happy about being reaped?"

Again, I shrug, "I suppose. I can't change what happened. Besides, what's to be sad about? I'm not dying, and when I come out of this deal I'm going to be rich."

She punches at me playfully, "That's the way! True confidence! Oh, but don't let it grow into cockiness!"

My forehead wrinkles, "Did I suggest that I would do such a thing?"

"Nope. It's just a spot of advice. Tell us a little bit about you. What's life like back home?"

Already I feel tired. My bones ache and my mind is working slowly. Why do we have to do these stupid interviews? Why can't we just get on with it? "Sorry to disappoint, but there's not much to tell. My mom died when I was little. All i've got left is my younger sister and my dad."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that."

My fingers tap rythmically on the arm of the chair, "Don't be. It's not your fault."

The interview doesn't last much longer. I have so little to say that we actually get done before my three minutes are up. I don't show boat or anything as I return to my seat among my fellow tributes.

-Pipple D9-

I look like a puffed up bird. My stylist put a corset on me hoping that it would bring in some of the fat. It just pushed everything upward, I end up holding my arms out and moving like a penguin. I hear my name called as I'm mourning over my predicament.

When I reach Cimmara she seems as uncomfortable as I am about this whole situation. I sit down stiffly and scratch my neck.

Her smile is uncertain, "Um, hello sweetie."

I look down at the floor, "Hello."

Her voice is contorted, "Are you okay?"

A solitary tear treks down my cheek; I consider telling the truth. Instead I say that I'm fine.

She hesitates, "You look really pretty."

This makes me choke on a sob, "Thank you." She's lying, but I appreciate her attempt to comfort me. I glance up at her, "You look pretty too."

She smiles sadly, "Thank you."

I move around in my chair, God this is humiliating. I want my mommy. I just want to go home. Why can't I go home? This is like a nightmare. My heart thunders as my emotions begin to take over.

"Uh, so tell us a bit about yourself. What's your family like?"

That question sends me over the edge. I start bawling uncontrolably and I'm escorted off the stage by a female peacekeeper. She takes me behind the curtains, away from the cameras and the accusing stares of the people. It's then that I begin to feel terrified. What have I done? What are they going to do to me?

The guard must notice my fear because she suddenly stops. Crouching down low, she pulls a piece of neatly folded fabric out of her jacket pocket and wipes my cheeks with it. Her face is lined gracefully with age, but she doesn't look old. I'm completely amazed be her kindness, and I can't help myself- I hug her. She stiffens at first, but eventually winds her arms around me.

She rocks me back and forth, the whole time repeatedly whispering, "I'm so sorry." I cry into her shoulder and pray desperately for freedom.

-Ryan D9-

Geez Pip. After they cart her off the stage, the room fills with complete silence. Getting up quickly, I jog over to Cimmara and sit down in the chair across from her, "Sorry about my partner, she's just emotional. She'll be fine."

The interviewer smiles defeatedly, "Of course. Thanks."

I nod, "No problem."

"So, you're Mr. Ryan Perry! I hear you're one of the smart ones."

I narrow my brows seriously, "I've got a rather high IQ."

"That's good to hear! Can you tell us anymore about yourself?"

I frown at the oppurtunity, I'm not interested in talking about my life- not to anyone, "Well, there's not much to tell. I've got a younger sibiling. Our family makes enough to get by. It's a very common story. Nothing special."

The corners of her mouth pull down, "Oh, ok. Well, do you have a romantic life of any kind?"

I almost lose my head I laugh so hard! "Of course not! Do I look like the type of guy that would be good with the ladies?"

She shrugs, "I don't know. I guess it depends on the lady. How about any of your peers? Is there anyone that's caught your eye yet?"

Clearly the romantic bit is her thing this year; she can't seem to focus on anything except relationships.

I inhale deeply, "No, there's no one. I couldn't care less about any of them."

-Laveda D10-

God, this is just almost too much to take in. My fingers twitch involuntarily as my mind races. Will I do okay? I glance at the audience and suck in a breath; there are so many people! I keep expecting them to disappear- I wish they would. At this rate I just want to get to the games, at least then I can hide from prying eyes. Right now I feel exsposed; it's disgusting.

Warily I look over at Iris; she's smiling brightly; one of her legs is jerking up and down. She senses my stare and turns to grin at me. My ally winks swiftly and I return the gesture. Kenya notices the connection between us and the corners of her mouth twitch comically. I imagine she thinks we're cute. I don't like her. Iris is the one who vouched for her- claiming that the older girl was a natural with the bow. Why do we need another bow? I turn my face away from her agitatedly. I despise the way she looks at me, and the way she speaks to us. I may only be thirteen, but that's still well beyond being a child.

Crossing my arms defiantly, I puff myself up and attempt to look confident. When the interviewer calls my name, a sharp pain of dread pumps through my veins.

With all the poise a teeny bopper can muster, I take a seat across from Cimmara.

The first thing that I'm struck by is her enormous chest. It's a wonder she doesn't fall over from the shear weight of those knockers. My face heats and I look away from her; I don't know why I'm ebarassed, I'm not the one that looks like a complete fool.

"How are you doing, babe?"

The muscles in my left eye constrict at her approach of address, but I soon recover and regain my composure. I smile sweetly at the blue haired wench, "Just fine. This is a bit much, I'll admit to that, but I'm not dead yet, so I suppose I'm quite alright."

The audience chuckles at my retort and my smile widens. Cimmara laughs lightly, "I imagine it must be very striking to one so young. Which, by the way, you handle yourself well for being a teenager. I couldn't believe your reaping, you were so strong!"

Vaugely, I recall the day she refers to. It pains me when I realize I can barely remember my families goodbyes. "Yes... well, it had to be done."

Her brow cocks, "I was wondering about that. Why did you choose to volunteer?"

My body tenses at that question. What right does she or any of these people have to ask? Wait, it's not about what rights they have, it's about the rights that I don't have. "My sister." I clear my throat and begin again, "My sister was repeaped. She couldn't hurt a fly, much less a real person. What it all comes down to is that it would have been worse of me to let her go rather than volunteer."

I don't have much of a way with words, and that's simply all I can think to say about the matter.

She smiles, "Well, that was very brave of you. I'm guessing we'll see the same gumption in the arena?"

I nod, "Smite me if you don't."

-Zack D10-

Laveda finishes her interveiw and leaves everyone thinking she's some kind of intelligent angel. Although the first description might be the truth, the latter is far from it.

I jog across the stage with confidence and wave at the audience. Quite a few girls stand up and cheer me on- I make a gesture next to my ear suggesting that they should call me. They're practically swooning.

When I reach my chair, I go right past it and straight to Cimmara. She has a hand hovering over her chest in surprise as I lean in and place both my hands on her face. Giving her a big smack on the lips earns me a screaming encore.

Smiling like a fox I turn on my heel and stride over to my seat. I make myself comfortable in it's cushions and extend my legs lazily.

Cimmara's still fanning herself as the audience's clapping begins to cease, "MY GOODNESS! I hate to say it, but you're a little young for me!"

Everyone laughs and I grin, "Age is just a number, Babe. Nothing can keep us apart."

Some girl yells, "We'll see about that!", and I laugh heartily.

The interviewer glares in the direction of the female, as if she's actually jealous, "You heard him! Nothing can tear us apart."

She leans forward and reaches for my hand. I decide to play along and I clutch her fingers desperately in my own, "We'll find a way to make it work!" I say urgently.

She bats her lashes, "Love always finds a way!"

The crowd erupts in laughter and applause. Releasing each other, we settle back into our seats and Cimmara really starts the interview. "Now that's what I call an entrance! It was a show before, but I think you gave the word entertainment a whole new meaning!"

I smile, "If only it were that easy!"

She nods and laughs, "I get ya! What a relief, are you always like this?"

I toss my blonde hair out of my eyes in annoyance. My stylist cut my hair so that it's hanging in my eyes, and frankly it pisses me off. Putting my heart throbbing smirk on, I tilt my head at Cimmara, "Pretty much. Takes a lot to bring me down."

She cocks a brow, "So you must plan on taking this a long way! Let me give you a scenario! Let's say you're in the woods, you come across one of these beautiful female tributes and she's got a sword to your thoat. When she asks, 'Give me a reason not to kill you', what do you say?"

Laughingly I reply, "I don't say anything, I do something." I get down on my knees and turn my face away from the camera's and Cimmara so I can concentrate on making 'the face'. When I get it right, I whip around and show everyone the smolder.

The large room fills with booming laughter and I give Cimmara's hand another quick kiss before I climb back in my seat.

She shakes her head in disbelief, "It works!"

-Kenya D11-

Zack's interview is almost over; my hands are shaking with anticipation. I feel like my breathing is erratic and too loud. Looking over at Nikolai I see that is completely bummed about the whole thing. His stylist obviously had no control over his style, Nikolai does what Nikolai wants. My district partner must feel me looking because he raises his narrowed gaze to meet mine. He says nothing, just glares back at me like a creep.

I roll my eyes and turn away from him. I still feel bad though, sick; theres a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach telling me that i'm a traitor for not offering him an alliance. My mouth slants downward at my thoughts, but I'm soon ripped away from the trance when Cimarra asks for me to come on stage.

Breathing in heavily, I stand up and turn one last time towards Nik. He folds his arms across his chest and arches a brow, "What?"

I cock my head to the side, "No 'good luck'?"

He snorts, but I still see that the corner of his mouth lifts in amusement. It's good enough for me. Smiling, I walk across the stage. As I pass Zack, I can't help but notice why so many girls were fanning themselves over him. He's kind of Gorgeous. He catches me looking and I feel a blush creep into my cheeks when he winks at me.

When I sit down across from Cimmara I shake hands with her.

"You are too pretty! You're not even real!"

My stylist added more purple streaks to my hair on the underside. They're different shades of violet, and curled to a shining perfection. My dress is white and clings modestly to my legs, but harshly to my waist. There are silver beads decorating the neckline which catch the light and throw it back- they're almost like minature disco balls.

"Thank you," I can't help but sound a bit sheepish.

She smiles, "Such a beautiful girl must be able to do some beautiful things, yes?"

I smile at her hinting. She's obviously done her research, but who's the source? How do they know I can sing and dance? Surely that's what she's refering to. "Indeed. I can sing and dance."

She gawks, "Well, which do you prefer?"

My brow furrows timidly, "Uh, singing, I guess." My body makes me self conscious- at least I can hear my voice. I have know way of knowing if I'm doing well when I dance.

She slams her card down on a small coffee table, "You must sing for us!"

My spine straightens, "Right now? Here?"

She nods, "Of course!"

I fidget in my chair, "Well, okay. I have to stand, I do better when I stand."

"How ever you feel comfortable."

I get to my feet and twist my hands together nervously, "So, what would you like to hear?"

She thinks, "Something... Oh, I don't know! You pick."

I contemplate my options, I could sing something hip. Something with a serious beat, but it wouldn't sound good because I have no instrumental music to back me up. It'll have to be something soft, and flowing. Then it hits me.

"Okay, I've got it... I'm going to start singing now."

She nods and leans forward, awaiting my voice. I breath in deeply one last time-

"She never slows down

She doesn't know why but she knows that when she's all alone, feels like it's all coming down

She won't turn around

The shadows are long and she fears if she cries that first tear, the tears will not stop raining down

So stand in the rain

Stand your ground

Stand up when it's all crashing down

You stand through the pain

You won't drown

And one day whats lost can be found

You stand in the rain

She won't make a sound

Alone in this fight with herself and the fears whispering if she stands she'll fall down

She wants to be found

The only way out is through everything she's running from- wants to give up and lie down.

So stand in the rain

Stand your ground

Stand up when it's all crashing down

You stand through the pain

You won't drown

And one day what's lost can be found

You stand in the rain

So stand in the rain

Stand your ground

Stand up when it's all crashing down

Stand through the pain

You won't drown

And one day what's lost can be found

You stand in the rain."

-Nikolai D10-

It's a fitting tune. Something that we can all relate to- well, at least us tributes. When she's finished singing, her time is already up. No matter- she doesn't need to come up with her own words when she can wow a whole nation with one song. Cimmara congratulates her and they shake hands one last time before Kenya moves to return to her seat among us.

As we approach each other she flashes me a wide grin. I merely maintain my placid facial expression. She smiles way to often.

I reach Cimmara in no time and my gaze is automatically pulled to her monumentous chest. It almost makes me laugh, almost. When I'm finally settled in the chair, I cross my legs and do my best to look completely hostile.

We stare at each other for the longest time. Finally I break the ice, "Why are your tits so big?"

Her cheeks instantly go red. She brings her hand up and presses a finger to her ear. There's a small mic hidden in her hair. Someone is speaking to her on the other end.

Immediately she straightens and a laugh catches in her throat as she observes me, "Tell me, what is that you're wearing? On your head I mean?"

"A Ushanka."

Her brows go up, "Really? I've never seen anything like it before. It's something new. Did your stylist come up with the design?"

It's my turn to raise a brow or two, "It's not new. It's been around for quite a while."

She smiles like a ditz, "Oh, my mistake. I have been so busy getting ready for the interviews that I haven't had a chance to keep up with the fashion trends lately."

Oh. My. God. What a stupid bitch.

I shake my head tiredly; how can she live with herself? I find it difficult to believe that no one has shot her yet.

She continues hastily, "So, Nikolai- I love that name by the way- what do you think of the Capitol?"

I blink once, "It's nothing that I didn't expect."

The room seems to quiet down at this statement. I don't give a shit if I offended them, it's the truth. You see the whole damn place on television every year anyway, did they really think this was much of a surprise?

"Oh, haven't you enjoyed yourself?"

I laugh, "Multiple times."

Her eyes narrow at that comment, as if she's trying to figure out my answer. I laugh even more at the fact that she doesn't get it. "Nevermind. No, this isn't fun. They won't let me have fucking alchol because I'm not twenty one!"

She draws back, "Oh, uh, I'm sorry?"

I shrug, "It's not your fault."

She narrows her eyes at me again, "Mmhm. So, um, how do you feel about being here today? Are you excited to start the Games? You must be since you volunteered."

Jesus Christ woman give me a chance to answer the first question before you ask the second! "I want a drink, and no- i'm not excited to start the Games. I just want to get them over with."

The lady looks confused for a moment, "Get them over with? But you volunteered! If not for glory, then for what?"

"Just because. Everyone in District Eleven hates me, why stay there and rot with them?"

She sticks her lower lip out, "Why would they hate you?"

I roll my eyes, "Because they think I could have prevented the death of my friend."

"Could you have?" Her eyes widen at the chance to talk about something that she can make dramatic.

"No," I answer simply.

She blinks a few times before she settles back into her chair, "Oh. Well, what a dismal subject anyway, right? Let's talk about something else. What's with the accent? I've never heard anybody speak like you do."

"It's just the way I talk. Can't change it."

"Really? That's so unusual. No one influenced you? Like a parent?"

"Nope."

And the rest of the interview basically consists of her asking stupid questions and nearly flashing her boobs. I really don't see how they don't just pop right out of her top. I bet she has cannons in them.

When I return to my seat next to Kenya, I see that the girl is smiling, as if she thinks something's funny.

"What are you grinning about?"

She shakes her head and laughs, "Just you, Prince Charming."

-Iris D12-

I skip over to my chair across from Cimmara and plop myself down quickly. Crossing my legs I give the audience my best 'sweet' smile. This should be good.

The interviewer beams, "Oh my, you're such a pretty little thing! Look at you! You've got to be the cutest girl I've ever seen! Why, you're an angel!"

I've been compared to winged beings throughout my life because of my loose, curly blonde hair, ivory skin, delicate features, and small frame. I doubt the pixie like dress I'm wearing hinders her opinion of my appearance.

I smile innocently, "Thank you. You look nice too." I turn to the audience, "Everyone does. I've never seen so many pretty colors and beautiful dresses."

"How old are you?"

I turn back to Cimmara, "I'm twelve. Twelve from Twelve. That's how you can remember me."

She grins, "Very witty. Such a brave thing too. You don't seem even a bit nervous."

Oops. I forgot to play that part up. Bringing my shoulders up, I say, "It's to exciting to be scary or anything. I think this is kind of cool. I love the Capitol, I wish I could stay here forever."

Okay, so maybe I'm laying it on a little thick. Who can blame me though? How else am I going to get sponsors? Besides, I want the other tributes to see me as a non threat. I can't do that if I come up here acting all chill.

"Aw, that's nice of you to say." I can tell that she's recalling the boy that was before me, Nikolai, and his opinion of the Capitol.

"It's just the truth. Hey, you want to see something cool?"

She laughs and nods, "Of course."

"Okay, I'll show you."

I get up out of the chair that so many before me have sat in. I place myself between Cimmara and the audience and get my stance ready. I take a quick breath before I bend my whole body backwards and flip through the air.

I land on my feet upright and with perfect grace. The crowd claps in delight, and Cimmara copies their gesture. "That was awesome! Do it again!"

I smile sweetly and do two more backlips across the stage, landing in a split. I throw my hands up in the air and the crowd goes nuts.

My chest heaves slightly, but I don't feel tired at all. In fact I feel exactly the opposite, like I could do this all day. I finally realize this is where I should be. My whole life I remember wanting to volunteer. Careers were the ones that were trained, not lower district tributes. They were the ones expected to win. I wanted to become experienced with a weapon and prove to the world that anyone could do it. Even a girl like me. This is my chance, and i'm going to make the most of it.

I hop to my feet easily and dance back to my chair across from Cimmara. She's clapping and giggling excitedly, "What a large amount of power for such a little girl! I didn't know you had it in you! Do you dance? I imaine you'd make a wonderful dancer."

A blush crawls up my neck, "Well, I do a bit. Not as good as my sister though."

Cimmara's face softens, "Yes, she was the little girl who was reaped before you, right?"

I nod with true sadness, "Yep."

"You are very courageous for taking her place."

I smile, "Thank you. Let's hope the same courage gets me back home."

"Oh, I think you'll surprise yourself. Tell me a little bit about life back home. What do you miss the most?"

I answer without hesitation, "My sister. She's my other half, I hate being away from her. But also miss my mom and my dad. Everything seems so jumbled without their schedules. I'm used to specific routine."

"I know what you mean. Have you made any friends though? Someone to ease the pain of being alone?"

My mouth turns up slyly and I think of Forrest, Laveda, and Kenya- my allies, "You could say that."

She goes on to ask more unnerving questions and continues to make me feel like a science experiment. When my time is up I walk back to my original seat and cross paths with Daryl along the way. I give him a quick hug and burry my face in his chest. The audience ooh's and aww's over it. He bends down and whispers into my hair, "Brown nosing show off!"

I giggle and punch him playfully in the shoulder, "Just do your thing Mr. Man."

-Daryl-

I do exactly what Iris tells me to do- my thing. I meet each of Cimmara's questions with a straight and honest answer, throwing in a side of humor every once in a while.

"Do you have any sibilings?"

I nod, "My sister, her name is Missy. She's young and I love her to death. I'd give my life for her."

Cimmara smiles, "What about your parents?"

My work against each other, "Well, my dad died when I was 13; I miss him more than you can imagine. After his death, my mom just- lost it. Or rather, the world lost her. She loved him so much, I think it was like breathing. Once you take oxygen away, it's hard to live."

Her faces drops, "That's so sad. I couldn't imagine loosing one of my parents or a spouse. It sounds awful."

My lips press together, "It was, and it still is, but we get by just fine. I'm kind of worried about Missy though, I don't want her to stress out over me being gone."

Cimmara batters and bruises me with her inquiries. Then the buzzer sounds and I know that my three minutes are up. I plant a small kiss on her hand and make my way back to my fellow tributes. As I'm passing a camera crew, I think of what that sickly boy did. How he addressed his brother. An idea sprouts in my head and I walk over to one.

Kneeling down I look right into the lense, knowing that my family and friends are observing.

"Missy, bad things are going to happen. I'm going to do bad things, and other people are going to do bad things to me. Don't watch any of it. Not a single moment. Do you understand me? Patrick, don't let her watch. Lock her in a room if you have to, but for goodness sake don't let her see one minute... not one second of the Games."

Author's Note: Whew! I just wrote the POVs of six different tributes in about two hours! I hope you liked it! Sorry for any spelling errors and stuff like that, I know it's annoying, but try to ignore them. Next chapter- the Games start! YAAAAAAAAAAAY! I know how long we've all been waiting for it! The POVs WILL BE RANDOM! I will also do a recount on points! I will make a list of items available to buy after the next chapter. OMG I'M SO FRIGGIN EXCITED! XD