Coilee Undergaze, 18, District 2 Female

"So, technically, you aren't even supposed to be here?"

Cascadia is still trying to wrap her head around my situation, no matter how much explaining I've done. I also try to explain that it's something I'd rather not talk about.

"Look, let's just say that if I didn't volunteer, my entire family would have suffered," I tell her in an exasperated voice. "So, let's just leave it at that."

My mentor just crosses her arms at me, looking annoyed. "I can tell you weren't really the chosen volunteer. Basically, whoever she really was is losing out right now because of you."

I hang my head in shame. I know that's exactly what's happening but hearing it come out of someone else's mouth manages to make me feel ten times worse.

"You better not even consider going early," Cascadia barks at me. "Then it really would have been a wasted year. Because-"

Before Cascadia can even finish her sentence Kyle bursts through the door leading to the dining car all of us are sitting in. He grabs a turkey leg off the banquet, aggressively takes a bite, then leaves as quickly as he came.

"Why is he such a weirdo?" Greyson, our other mentor who has barely uttered a word so far, at least has to acknowledge the maniac we're stuck with all week.

Cascadia says she is seriously concerned with the state of the Career pack this year.

"Why?" I ask, slamming my fist on the table. "Just because I'm not all you wanted me to be doesn't mean I'm useless." I go on, telling Cascadia that she's unfair to judge me so early. She just laughs.

"I know a real Career when I see one, girlie. And you are not one." She flips her dark braid to her back and leaves, slamming the dining room door shut.

I sigh, trying my best to hold back tears.

"I'm sorry she's so… tough on you," Greyson says in a stilted voice, obviously somewhat afraid to speak ill of his fellow mentor. "But she means well. She'll warm up to you."

"Warm up to me?" I bark at him, rising out of my chair. "I bet she already wants me to die because I'm not a…" I struggle to find the right words, "…muscly, beefcake killing machine!"

I flee to the living room car, collapsing on the couch but not daring to cry. One thing these people will not get from me is my tears. The only thing I allow myself to do is curse Father for ever putting me in this situation.

No matter what, I can cling to the comfort that this is not my fault and that I never should have been here.

Albert Hade, 16, D3 Male

Like a true friend, I hold Sophia's hand as she cries and cries, even though we're being ushered onto the train. It is understandable why she is so upset. No person is happy to be Reaped.

The moment we arrive on the train however, the fountain of tears flowing from Sophia stops, as if she flipped a switch. She leaps onto the couch eagerly, remarking on how comfortable it is.

"Want to watch some garbage TV?" she asks me, smiling. "I bet there is nothing good to watch besides the Hunger Games."

I blink rapidly. "So… you're alright? You aren't upset?"

Sophia bursts into high-pitched laughter. "Why would I be upset? I get a week of free food!" She perks up like an excited cat. "Speaking of food…"

She dashes off to the banquet as if it was going to vanish at a moment's notice.

I'm still left dumbfounded by her sudden mood swing. I've always known Sophia to be consistently light-hearted, hiding behind a smile even when she falters. I was surprised when she cried onstage, but didn't think it was ingenuine. She is a good fake-crier, I guess.

I remember Dad's last words to me. Use the skills I already have to flourish. I ponder what this could possibly mean to me in the Hunger Games. I'm book-smart, which hardly does you any good in this competition. School was where I flourished, and my test scores attested to that.

School. It feels weird to think about the fact that my classes suddenly mean nothing. I had a calculus exam this Friday, which is the day the tributes are interviewed. The life I knew is in the past permanently. No matter how this turns out, things will be different afterwards. I just have to hope it doesn't end up with me taking a dirt nap for the rest of eternity.

I join Sophia in stuffing my face with sugary pastries. She seems happier than I've ever seen her.

"Hey Albert! Want to be allies for the Games?" She is practically bouncing off the walls.

"What kind of question is that? Of course I do."

I force myself to let go of any tension I was carrying. If Sophia is making the best of this, I might as well, too. People have always told me I'm too serious, anyways.

"Why were you crying?" I finally ask Sophia. She rolls her eyes.

"So people feel bad for me. I mean, come on, I'm a cute girl. Crying makes me seem like a little damsel in distress." Sophia flutters her eyelashes at me as if to look extra innocent.

"The innocent angle?" I ask, shaking my head. "That is extremely overdone, Sophia. I doubt that'd get you sponsors."

"Maybe not," she chirps, swaying back and forth. "But a sweet boy who is very protective of his even sweeter little partner would surely strike a few Capitol people who love sob stories."

I chuckle, taking a bite out of a muffin.

"I mean, I don't see why not," I tell her with a full mouth. Sophia squeals in delight.

"Awesome! This week's going to be fun. We can just hang out in our cool apartment, watch TV, order takeaway..."

Sophia's words start to fade out as I find myself becoming increasingly unsettled. My friend's giddy attitude about all of this is only reminding me that I could very well be dead within the next week. As much as I try to adopt my friend's giddy attitude, fear starts to consume me like a disease. At least I won't be alone and afraid.

Aslan Dreadstorm, 18, D4 Male

I let out a sigh as Azure continues to go on about how excited she is to get to the Capitol. Like most women who feel the need to vent to me, their answers usually come in the form of curt nods.

"I've heard the Capitol is just fabulous! I'm a city girl at heart, you know."

Our escort, JT, looks up from her long nails and saunters over to us.

"You haven't seen real city girls!" she exclaims, flipping her bright blue hair.

Azure and JT's mindless girly conversation about things like hair and dresses and makeup almost forces me to roll my eyes. There are much more important things to be talking about, like strategy and sponsors. But nobody seems to have any interest, so I leave the living room car and join Yvonne and Jaime in the dining car.

"You'd think Azure is going to be on a reality show," I complain as I shut the door and sit down at the table with my mentors. Yvonne chuckles.

"Technically, it is a reality show." She giggles and takes a sip of her smoothie, amused by my lack of amusement. Yvonne just sighs.

"She's a bit more… light-hearted than you, kiddo. Just relax a little. The Games aren't for another six days." Jaime laughs listlessly at her remark.

"Easy for you to say, Vonnie. Your Games were Survivor-style on a tropical island." He makes a good point. Yvonne's Games took place somewhere very similar-looking to her own oceanside home, with little conflict other than challenges and eliminations. I watched glimpses of her Games when I was ten, before I started working at the docks.

Yvonne scoffs. "I'm just telling Ash to enjoy himself." Her use of my nickname unsettles me slightly. I excuse myself and rush to my room, trying not to sulk. Something within me feels bitter, like life is no longer enjoyable. I'm about to have what should be the most eventful weeks of my life, somewhere I can finally prove my worth. Why do I feel so neutral about all of it? I must be more unfeeling than I thought.

The dozens of pillows sitting on the bed are forced to be nothing more than punching bags for what I guess to be around three hours, because the sun's setting by the time I'm laying back in bed, still feeling empty.

I don't feel bitter. In fact, being selected could very well be one of the best things to happen to me. Days of brutal training at the academy could finally pay off. It's even sweeter because I was able to pay for these courses with my own money, paid for with the exhausting shifts that often sapped whatever strength I had left from my body. I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I worked for this, and my efforts have finally been rewarded.

But when I imagine where I am going to be after this, I don't see anything. I can't even imagine what the trumpets that announce my victory would sound like. I can't imagine the shape of my crown, or the feel of the lights in my post-Games interview. I'm no psychic, but shouldn't I at least be able to fantasize what my entitr life has been leading up to?

I force myself to expel these thoughts. They're dangerous thoughts, the kind of thoughts that make you hesitate and compromises your judgement. It's been five hours since I volunteered and I already feel as if I'm in the launch room.

Live in the present, Ash. The future will be waiting for you when you arrive there.

Aston Shinjin, 14, D6 Female

I sit tensely on a plush recliner facing the TV, watching the Reapings without paying much attention. Lancia says it's important to 'remember what I'll be up against' but most of the tributes don't really strike me as memorable.

"Anyone you see as a possible ally?" Lancia asks me. I try to dig through the female tributes I remember. Any boys are out of the question.

"Maybe Pontiki," I mumble, "she looked angry instead of just afraid."

"She looked like she was ready to set the escort on fire with her eyes," Alysanne jokes. Lancia asks if I remember anyone else.

"Esther, maybe."

"Just remember, you don't have to have an ally. It's only a suggestion." Lancia looks worried she is forcing me to do something I don't want to do.

"No, I do want a friend. Friends are some of the only people I could count on…"

I recall Jennavieve, one of the newest additions to the brothel before I left. I was always jealous of how confrontational she was. Jenna had the strength to stand up for herself that I lacked. In some situations, she would even defend me, which I was deeply grateful for, especially when doing so cost her own safety. I don't want someone like Jennavieve in the Games because they might feel the need to protect me. If I tried to explain to them that I'm not worth protecting, they'd probably disagree and say I deserve to live as much as them.

But they'd be wrong. I never should have lived at all. Still, someone to talk to in my last days would be nice.

At the moment, my decision falls onto Pontiki and possibly Lilac. Lancia asks why I would want just Lilac and not her brother as well.

"I can't," I mutter. "I can't be allies with a boy."

Indy raises an eyebrow at me. "I guess that means I'm out of the question?" He seems good-natured, but also seems offended at my shunning of males. I lie and say I think boys are weird, and that I'd never be friends with them.

Indy sighs and says he'll have to look elsewhere for allies. I can tell I've disappointed him but there is no possible way I can tell him or anyone else the true reason I could never be alone with a boy.

I would prefer my suffering over the past year to die with me.

Train chapter! I know I didn't include all of the POVS but don't worry there will be more next chapter! Next will be when they arrive at the Capitol. Things will be looking relatively normal for a Games until… they don't. haha. You'll have to wait and see.

As always please review it means the world to me! Thank you for reading and see you next time!

-Aemma