Chapter One:

I headed to the 'Academy' slowly. I hated the college of 'Martial Arts', as they described it. The unofficial school of combat that prepares the District Two children for the Hunger Games. Ofcourse, not every child enrolled into the Academy will be chosen to take part in the Games. It is an honour to be chosen. Gross.
It is my own fault that I have been coerced into attendance. The Academy Leader Maximillion, first ever career tribute in the 18th Hunger Games and renowned famous Victor for a generation of Careers handpicked me himself when he saw my performance in an assault course in what was dubbed as a Physical Education class in school. Little did any of us know that we were being studied by the Victors.

I have no intention of actually being chosen, there are far more children who are eager to take the platform, risking their lives. No, that's not for me. My aunt has other ideals. She wants me to enter the arena, slaughter the other tributes, and move into Victors Village, taking the role as wealthy within the district.
My Parents died when I was just a baby. My aunt isn't very fore-coming with the details, but it has something to do with double-crossing a Peacekeeper, in a district where we train Peacekeepers. And so I got the joy of living with my aunt, in Zone U Village in our District, one of the smaller communities, and one of the 'poorer', within a district known for its wealth. We do okay, we are fed and watered, and take each day as they come, but Zone U is only a short walk away from Zone V (ictors Village), and I know how envious my aunt is of those mansions.

I shuffle into the Academy, and see I am probably the last to arrive. The mornings are what I like to call Brainwashing, a theory of the games. A study on why our district is the best, why it is important for strong tributes to be in the games and how it is an honour to be chosen, with guest speeches from people like our Mayor and past Victors. We even get to watch past games and see past District 2 tributes get killed, and write essays on what they did right, but ultimately did wrong within the games when they died. I find those the hardest, especially when most District 2 tributes make it to the Final 8, and a lot of the time take park in the final Showdown. Though the most difficult essay I had to write was on The tribute in the 52nd Games. Flint Masters. He was killed during the Bloodbath by District 9 of all places. And don't even get me started on the disaster of The second Quarter Quell, which saw the Volcano disaster Killed all of District 2 except for one, and then see him get killed only hours later by the eventual Winner from District 12. Now that year was embarrassing. It took a few years to claim back our dignity with the Capitol veiwers, whom lost so much in bets on us. It was meant to be so promising from them. 4 Tributes from District 2. All Strong 18 year olds.

It was 2 days before the announcement of whom will be expected to Volunteer at the reapings. In the history of the Academy we have only ever had one tribute get reaped, after the chosen Volunteer decided last minute that she was going to not volunteer and risk death. That year, Penelope Lyme went into the games, and turns out, even though she never set foot in the academy, she could really hold her own, and went on for a shock win for our district. She played the game well and had a deadly skill with an axe it turned out.

I took a seat at the back of the classroom.
There was mindless chatter around me, and none of the other girls seemed to like me, and I them, so I was left to my own thoughts. It was going to be a tv dayit seemed, and so I didn't really feel like paying much attention to whatever games they were going to show us this time. But surprisingly, instead of our usual propaganda tutor Mr. Fillies, It was Lyme who walked in and asked for order.

"Welcome Academy ladies. As you know the choosing Volunteers is happening soon, and I am delighted to inform you that Maximillion will be mentoring the Female tribute. Now I know what you are all thinking, Maximillion hasn't mentored in years, but he's been watching intently and he had seen a tribute he believes he could take District 2 to victory, after 7 hard years of no Victor. He also believes he doesn't have much time left and would like to do it, one last time. I am gong to be his assistant these games, an aide if you may.
The Mentor for the boys will be Brutus, and his assistant will be Isaacus".

The girls and the boys do not mix at the academy, as they do not want any of us to form any unnecessary attraction or friendship that could hinder our performance in the arena, but naturally keeping us completely separate is impossible, and rules do tend to get broken after hours. But as much as I don't care to know the girls, I have even less intention of getting to know any of the guys.

There was an exciting natter with all the ladies today, about who would get the honour of representing the district in a tournament based on murder. The message is clear. Do it for your district, be favoured by the capitol, lead a better lifestyle.
The fact that these girls actually believe that they are doing their district a justice by entering the games sends a shiver down my spine. We are of course told about the side effects of winning the games. The trauma that can live with you. But how important it is to look like you're enjoying every minute inside the arena, while the game makers put you through obvious hell. We watched clips of various tributes losing sanity, dignity, hope, but most of all enjoyment (for the careers) while in the arena, and told why all of this is a huge turn off for the capitol veiwers, and would usually lead to a Mutt Attack, which is similar to the game-makers deciding our time is up.
We watched one year as the pair from district three were ripped apart by bears, and how our tributes from two were watching from a nearby distance gleefully laughing about it. Acting! We were told. They were acting. And moments later that acting received them a large bottle of water from a sponsor.

Lyme gave her usual natter about the importance of how to play the game, and how hard it was for her, being a tribute that was reaped rather than Volunteer. How she was placed in the same category as those from other districts and how she had to work double as hard to gain a top score to be taken seriously by the other careers, and how it knocked District Two down from Career leaders, and how the boy from One Jewell, nominated himself as leader. How after a few days she decided to chop his head off to take reign. Blah blah blah blah.

I put my head in my arms and started to doze off, and it wasn't long til I woke to the sound of chairs and feet shuffling towards the door. I yawned and stretched, and rolled my eyes' as I realised that it meant there was a short break before Active duty, in which I was to practice training with my hand to hand combat, which is my strong point; alongside weaponry.

We only had to practice one weapon, as they didn't want to over complicate our skill, and my chosen was a short knifes But we all had to learn hand to hand wrestling, kickboxing and fighting in general.

I was just about make it to the door when I heard Victor Penelope Lyme call my name. My wides widening as I realised the Victor was talking to me directly. This never happened. I didn't even think the Victors knew the names of most of the tributes. And I had made it my mission to stay out of sight as much as I could.

I turn slowly to face her, somewhat intrigued about what she would have to say to me.

"Yes, Victor", I said politely. I wasn't really sure what we were supposed to call them. Their name seemed a bit intrusive, but technically their title was Victor rather than Miss or Mrs.

"Please, call me Lyme", she smiled warmly. "I am not supposed to say anything. Not until the big reveal, but you seem like someone that may need the heads up. It's going to be you….".

"What's going to be me?", I said slowly, fearing the answer that I already knew.

"The volunteer. You're going into the arena".