Pre-Games: Second Thoughts

District One:

Zara's POV:

Each arrow made a loud thunk as they sunk into the cruddy headboard hanging from the wall. I lazily grabbed for an additional arrow before notching it into the bow. I stretched the string and held it tersely before letting it sail through the air. It gracefully whizzed by the cement columns before it landed perfectly in line with the others. Before I could reach for another, a voice called out,

"It's so damn early in the morning, Zara. Can you cut that out!"

I looked across the basement to see Reggie sprawled across the ratty couch glaring at me as he held his hand up to block the rising sun. I raised one eyebrow before slowly reaching for another arrow. Without breaking eye contact, I notched it and fired. He groaned dramatically as it hit the board.

"Bitch," he muttered as he rolled over and pulled a cushion over his head. I found myself slightly tempted to launch an arrow at the pillow. The risk of it hitting him was worth the thought of it tearing the case open and watching as feathers flew everywhere. I mentally giggled as I set the bow down and lay back down on my perch.

Getting along with the people you lived with was a priority for most of society. Not for me. If they got annoyed and left, it meant less of a hassle and more room. Granted, no one had left for months now. Some of us didn't have the luxury of living wherever we pleased.

For some a cold, dank basement was the only place they could call home. I was one of those few individuals. The others were Reggie (or as he preferred to be called Reginald) and Mouse. Reggie was kind of a sad story. He was one of the kids in the community home with me. The officials only let you stay in the community home until you turned seventeen. After that you were legally required to leave. I didn't really understand why this rich district couldn't continue to pay for us for just a couple more years… It wasn't like there were a lot of us orphans to begin with. In District One, everyone had a family. Even if your parents died from some freak accident you still had your rich uncles or grandparents. Finding a place to live was not a problem for ninety-nine percent of the population. Sadly, Reggie was part of that one percent. His entire family did die in some freak accident. He was the only one who made it out… Except he was missing an arm. No one adopted kids, let alone ones with physical deformities.

However, you learned not to feel bad for him when you had to deal with his elitist attitude for years on end. He was still delusional enough to think that if he acted like an entitled rich boy that all those snobby people would accept him. Maybe one day he would get it, but I wasn't going to hold my breath.

Mouse, on the other hand, was someone I liked… Mainly because she didn't talk. In the past year she hadn't said a single word. She only communicated by writing things down. I didn't know anything about her past, but I really didn't care. When your district was full of secrets you learned to stop asking questions and mind your own business. The one thing I did know about her was that she was a thief and a pretty great one at that. No one at the Career Center even noticed when she stole a bow and quiver full of arrows for me. No one else has ever seemed to catch on that this tiny girl was the one who made away with enough food for a meal every night. She was forgettable, almost non-existent, and it worked for her.

I rolled off my perch and landed on the concrete with ease. I slipped into some tattered boots before brushing my hair away from my face.

"You wake us both up and then just leave?" Reggie called as I passed by him, "I hate you."

I glanced over at Mouse to see her wide awake in her little den of covers. However, a sly smile covered her face as she shook her head. I couldn't help but grin back as I reached the metal staircase. Oddly enough, I was going to miss these two once I was gone. Whether I won or lost the games, things would never be the same. Either way, I would probably never see them again…

Weird how sentimental a person can get when they know everything is about to change.

I sat on a bench in the beating sun as I observed the "Careers" lounge about. Several of the blonde beauties lay on a patch of grass playing with one another's hair. Others giggled and flirted with the horde of strapping young males. They boys smiled charmingly at the surrounding females as they flexed their muscles and occasionally rough housed with one another.

Although this was one of their scheduled breaks, I couldn't help but laugh at how pathetic they were. The Careers of District One were a joke now.

District One currently had the most victors in history, living and dead. All of those victories brought both attention and wealth back to this district… And they squandered it. Instead of using it to become even better Careers, they became soft. The training program was now just a formality. Boys and girls were sent by their wealthy mommies and daddies to the Center and learned how to fight, but none of them ever had the intention of putting it to use. Instead, it was more of a social gathering… A place to find another rich, pretty Career whom you could marry and continue your family line with.

The only true Careers were the exceptionally dedicated ones who either had the money to be privately trained or the luck to learn from an experienced family member. Although those seemed to be far and few in between as the years floated by. Soon, there would be no volunteers left…

It was kind of sad, really.

I noticed a few of the girls looking my way before turning back to their boy toys and laughing. I rolled my eyes, not fazed by it in the slightest. Here, in the open, I stood out like a sore thumb. My curly, dark brown hair was different from the straight blonde that everyone else had. My brown eyes were uncommon and my tan skin was unheard of. When you added in my old clothes and the two scars that were prominent on my neck, I was literally a black sheep in a pristine, white flock.

To this day I didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse, but I couldn't remember my childhood. The earliest memory I had was waking up in a dark alley near the train station. I was only seven and I was covered in cuts and bruises, as well as two deep slashes across the side of my neck. The only thing I could remember was the name Zara… A name I assumed was mine.

Stumbling through the unspoiled streets of District One covered in filth immediately caught the attention of the Peacekeepers. I was automatically put into the only community home this district had. At the time, I had no clue what was going on. I could barely talk, always stuttering out words. The other handful of orphans there automatically ganged up on me. Not only did I look different from all of them, but I didn't remember 'normal' things like what a fork was called or how to use a shower. The only caring person in my life was the woman who ran the community home, Selene.

I refrained from groaning as I observed several of the Careers approaching me. I wasn't scared of them, just eternally irritated. As the years passed by, I grew strong. I lost my stutter, caught up in school, and not only used a fork to eat but jammed it into a bully's thigh. Some people crack under torment, but I only got more determined. I learned to hide the pain and show them indifference. I knew one day I was going to prove them wrong. Somehow, I was going to show them that I was just as important as all of them.

And that way was by winning the Hunger Games.

"Hey Zara," Erika spat as if she tasted something disgusting, "I haven't seen you skulking about lately. What managed to convince you to crawl out of your cesspit?"

I looked at her with the most bored expression I could manage (which wasn't difficult to do). I learned quickly that I couldn't beat any of these girls in their word wars. They had everything above me and they knew it. No matter what I said they could manage to twist it around and insult me. It was best just to say nothing and give them no reaction. They always grew uninterested and left.

"She probably wanted to check us out. She can't help but be drawn to these good looks," A boy smiled dopily as he looped an arm around one of the girls.

"You're right. She doesn't have the luxury of getting that need met by looking into a mirror every day," a nasally girl said flippantly as she pulled out a compact.

I twitched slightly as they hit a raw nerve. Apparently because I didn't have perfect bone structure like the rest of them it automatically meant I was ugly.

"Sorry daddy didn't buy me a new nose," I replied nonchalantly as I busied myself with my knapsack.

"Just because you don't have a daddy doesn't mean you have to be all bitter and stuff that I do."

That one didn't even hurt. I set myself up for it.

I ignored them as they snickered. I swung my knapsack around me and stood up. I had better things to do then listen to these airheads. I just wanted to get one last look at them before tomorrow… I wanted to remember their smug expressions because, soon, I would never see it again. If I came back, I would be the haughty one while they would cower in shock and admiration.

"Going somewhere? Did we hurt your feelings?" Erika mocked.

"Yes, I'm completely broken inside now," I agreed as I stomped through the middle of them.

"Lower district trash," one of them hissed as the rest sniggered.

I stopped, slightly surprised. Maybe it's because they knew my intention was to volunteer and they assumed they would never see me again, but they had never been brazen enough to call me that. When I was younger I couldn't quite understand why the Peacekeepers were constantly arguing about me. I couldn't remember anything and knew nothing about what was happening. However, once I was older Selene explained it all to me. The Peacekeepers couldn't find out where I had come from. There were no records of me and no family had come to claim me. The only thing they could assume based on this and my appearance was that I was from another district. Somehow I had been smuggled in here… And with my lack of memory no one could figure out why.

So, after heated arguments for months, they decided to not fix something that wasn't broken. They left me in the community home with the rest of the outcasts. In their mind, it was where I belonged… To waste away with the other mistakes and freaks. Everyone else assumed the same as the Peacekeepers, but no one brought it up to me personally.

Until now.

"This trash is going to win the 227th Hunger Games," I replied coolly.

"Yeah right!" Erika cackled. "You have never even set foot into the Career Center! What exactly do you have to bring to the table?"

Vast knowledge about the games. Experience with a bow. Determination. So many other skills that you could never pick up.

"The same thing you have to bring to your future, trivial marriage: nothing."

I heard her gasp as I continued to walk forward. I had no obligation to explain anything to them.

They were the worthless ones, not me.

I sat on the loveseat as the television played in front of me. It showed two girls fighting recklessly. The darker of the two tried to gain the upper hand, but the blonde was much faster. She dodged her throwing knives flawlessly as she picked them up and returned them. Soon, the darker was backed up against a large sewer grate with one imbedded in her stomach. She spun around and tried to squirm through the grate. Her head popped through, but the rest of her body did not fit. As she tried to back up, the blonde placed herself on top of the girl. She shoved her head down into the water. I watched as she flailed about, struggling for air. Soon, the struggles stopped and the sound of a cannon fired out of the television. The soon-to-be victor backed away and looked almost directly at the camera.

"I'm surprised you're watching those games again. You've seen them about a hundred times," Selene mentioned as she entered the room.

I pried my eyes away from the screen to see her sit beside me. Her blonde hair was in a frizzy disarray while she her hands were still wet from washing dishes.

"These were the games that inspired me to start training and volunteer… I guess I'm looking for a little encouragement."

"Are you having reservations?"

I looked away from her caring eyes to see the blonde pulling the brunette out of the sewer grate with the brunette's brother. As they began to clean the blood off of her, I whispered.

"Maybe…"

"You do know that you will always have a place here, correct? I can always use an extra pair of hands to help keep things running."

I nodded, acknowledging her kind offer. I never had the cruelty to tell her that was exactly why I couldn't accept her offer. I always had a place here… With the unwanted and unloved. I needed more than that. I needed to be with the winners for once.

The blonde on the television notched her bow before uttering, "I'm sorry, again." She let the arrow fly into the boy's throat before walking away.

"Rouge Lockett has always been an inspiration to you. I doubt that she will start failing you now."

I smiled at Selene as we intertwined our hands. She was right. My last year living here I watched the games the entire time. Never in my life had I been so engrossed. A girl who had everything I ever wanted volunteered to go into the Hunger Games… and refused to join the Career Pack. She killed the most people in Hunger Game history because of the Quarter Quell and came home a victor. Everyone in this district respected her when she came home… And she made me realize that was the only way I could get these people's reverence. If I couldn't become one of them; my only option was to be better… To be a victor.

"I'll miss you," Selene whispered.

I looked over to see her eyes slightly misty. This woman had always been like a mother to me, and I found it hard to watch her cry. We both knew that it didn't matter how determined or skilled I was. In the Hunger Games, everyone had as much a chance of dying as they did winning. Odds were I was most likely going to die… There could only be one victor after all.

Still, that didn't stop me. I couldn't let it. The life I wanted was worth dying for.

"I'll miss you too," I replied as I showed a softer side I refused to let anyone else see… A side that others would only see as a weakness.

Suddenly, I heard a screech as something crashed. Selene sighed deeply as I chuckled. She wiped a tear away as she muttered,

"Some things never change."

"No. Kids will be kids," I replied as a little girl came running into the room.

"Troy knocked over a vase, Miss Selene!"

"I'll be right behind you," Selene smiled as she stood up.

The girl ran back out of the room, her blonde ringlets bouncing excitedly as she went.

"Stay in here as long as you like. I'll see you tomorrow after the Reaping… During the goodbye portion."

I nodded as she exited the room. I hoisted myself up and walked over to the large television. The one nice thing about growing up in a community home was that everything was paid for and accessible. Although you didn't get the best food or the fanciest clothes, you still got them. You got to watch television and play games… You got to have some semblance of a normal childhood. It was the one thing I had truly grown to appreciate since I couldn't remember mine.

As I flipped through all the different Games, all I could think about was how I had already seen them all. This room had become almost a second home in the past two years. I had spent countless hours watching every single game I could get my hands on. By watching them and studying them, I had learned a plethora of things. That included the downfalls of many. Anything could bring you down… For example, Cami Starkweather from last year's games was brought down by her own arrogance in the end.

And, yet, it wasn't truly her arrogance. It was a combination of that and the Gamemaker's traps and tricks. At the end of my two years of learning, the biggest lesson of all was that once you entered the arena anything could happen.

My downfall could be everything. Even the slightest decision might be my demise. Even the wrong decisions could end up being the ones that kept me alive.

And it was this lesson that was forcing me to have second thoughts.

Zavij Kensington's POV:

"And you remember where the formula is?" a voice called out from the bedroom as I watched the child crawl across the hallway's carpet.

"First cabinet on the right," I replied as she rolled a colorful ball towards me. I batted at it lightly and it rolled back. The child giggled and grabbed the small toy. She began to chew on it and gurgled. Saliva dripped down the side and I swiftly grabbed it from the child. I wiped the drool off before rolling it to my left. The toddler crawled after it, chortling loudly.

"Feed her at-"

"Six-fifteen sharp. That's the optimal time because any sooner she'll get gassy and any later she'll fall asleep right after and wake up sooner."

Rouge smiled at as she exited her bedroom, "So you do actually listen to me when I babble on and on about Partridge."

"I always listen to you," I stated factually.

"Zip me up," she ordered as she held her hair and spun around.

I grabbed the zipper on the back of the golden dress. I quickly pulled it upwards before concealing it with a small flap of fabric.

"I'm still so sorry about asking you to watch Partridge so last minute," Rouge apologized as she scooped up both her baby and the toy, "Polish is at the office working overtime because of the upcoming Reapings and my mother had some prior commitments she apparently couldn't cancel."

"You don't need to apologize. I wasn't doing anything to begin with."

"It's still rude."

"When did that ever stop you from doing anything?" I asked as I followed her down the stairs.

She sent me a dirty look before continuing, "I have to attend this dinner Agatha is cooking. She does this every year right before the Reapings so that the victors, especially the mentors, can discuss this year's likely tributes. She usually snoops around and finds out who is planning on volunteering."

"You didn't used to mind spending time with Agatha."

Rouge flinched ever so slightly, the way she did whenever I mentioned something upsetting, before putting up another wall, "This isn't us spending quality time together. This is us doing our jobs and mentoring."

Rouge placed a kiss on Partridge's blonde head before setting her down on the living room floor. She looked at me with an icy expression before I stated, "I wasn't accusing you. I was pointing out a fact."

She sighed and put her face in her hands, "I'm sorry. I always get this way whenever the Games come back around…"

I shrugged as I replied, "It's how you cope."

"Cope?"

"With the memories of the arena and the prospect of losing a tribute. You're a perfectionist and you don't want to fail."

Rouge looked away from me and strolled towards the window. One of the problems I had interacting with people, especially in District One, was that I couldn't stop myself from being blunt and honest. I just said what was on my mind, especially when people asked. It wasn't that I was loud or opinionated, far from it. I just spoke when spoken to. Not to mention I despised small talk.

She turned around with a smile and grabbed her purse, "So I'll see you after dinner then?"

I nodded as she walked past both of us. It was times like these that I felt like Rouge didn't truly appreciate my honesty like she said she did. Usually she would thank me or talk about whatever she was thinking… At the very least she would insult me or make some sort of snarky comment. It was very rare that she moved on and pretended she didn't hear what I said.

It was that one of action of no acknowledgement that managed to hurt me… An emotional pain that I wasn't used to. It was something I immediately despised and regretted.

"Thank you so much," she smiled one last time before closing the front door behind her, "For everything."

The door clicked and I felt my lips curve into a small smile. Partridge's gurgling giggle snapped me back into reality and my face shifted back into its unreadable mask. I lowered myself to the ground and stretched my legs out in front of me. Partridge crawled towards me, ball forgotten, and started to climb on top of my leg. For some reason this toddler was taken with me the minute she saw me. I assumed it was because I appeared completely unique in this kid's eyes. My inky black hair and grey eyes were things she had never seen before. Not to mention her entire world had been filled with perfect, beautiful things.

Maybe my scarred face was a trophy in her childish world.

I looked into the large mirrored wall on my right. Most people in their right mind would never leave a child with me on first glance. I was a tall man with uneven, messy hair. I had a long thin nose and almost bloodless looking lips. My skin was extremely pale and smooth, marred only by the scars that covered the right side of my face. Each line was clean and vertical, but they eventually overlapped each other in ghastly and gruesome patterns. No… not a single person would trust this monster with a child…

And they shouldn't. They had every right not to if they knew…

I silenced the dark thoughts and moved on. Many people talked about how difficult it was to deal with their own thoughts. How they could sometimes be filled with uncontrollable sadness, anger, or guilt. For some reason that didn't apply to me. I found it effortless to shut down things mid-thought and move on to a different topic. It confused me why others couldn't do the same.

Partridge was now on my thigh and grinning at me excitedly. I knew what she wanted and I began to bounce my leg up and down lightly. She squealed with delight as she held on. I knew she preferred to be held up and treated like a hovercraft, but maybe I would do that later.

I had never truly been fond of kids. Something bothered me about the fact that they couldn't take care of themselves… They needed to be coddled and looked after all the time. They were helpless and weak.

Still, I caught myself sometimes smiling at this toddler or laughing at things she did. It was an odd feeling… To like someone who couldn't even communicate with you. Partridge squawked once more before rolling over onto the ground. She lay there and stared at the ceiling for a while before settling her eyes on me. Maybe part of the reason I liked her was because she was helpless.

Maybe it just felt nice taking care of someone else for once.

My eyes popped wide open as the lock clicked out of place and Rouge flung open the door. I lolled my head over to the side to watch her enter. She immediately began to discard her earrings and fluff out her tangled hair.

"How's Partridge?" she asked as she marched towards the stairs.

"Sound asleep in her crib. I haven't heard a peep out of her since I put her down."

I followed her trail as she blazed up the steps and down the hallway. She cracked open the nursery door. The tension left her body and a small sigh escaped her mouth. She spun around and entered her bedroom. I followed as she called out,

"I hope she wasn't too rowdy. Thank you for watching her."

"I already said it wasn't a problem. How was the dinner?"

"Long and boring. We honestly could have summed up that entire discussion over five minutes rather than an extravagant feast."

"What did you find out about this year's volunteers?"

"Apparently the girl is named Zara," she explained as she stepped into her closet to change, "She's never been a part of the Career program, but has made it very clear that she is going to volunteer and be this year's tribute."

"Privately trained?"

"Not possible, seeing as she's an orphan. No, she either has no experience or she's attempted to train herself."

"So you're saying she has no chance? That seems slightly hypocritical coming from a girl who refused to identify as a Career." I asked as I plopped onto the bed.

"Of course not, I'm just saying we have no way of knowing her skill level. There is one promising thing about her, though."

"Ah, which is?"

Rouge walked out of the closet in a silk robe. She sat down at her vanity and picked up a brush, "At the age of fifteen she managed to snag a job in the Mayor's office. It was just an errand girl type job, but usually you need connections to even get that. She was fired not even a year later, but it proves she has initiative. If she has initiative and brains to go with it, she might have picked up some interesting tricks from her superiors."

"What about the boy?"

She bit her lip as she brushed her hair out, "This year's male tribute is a mystery. No one has come forth as a volunteer, much like last year. Odds are he very well might be reaped again."

I nodded, trying not to give anything away. I hadn't told Rouge, or anyone, that it was my family's plan for me to volunteer this year. She had once asked me if I trained and I told her yes, but never once did she question if I was going to enter the Hunger Games. She just assumed I had trained with the rest of District Two. Since I moved here when my mother got promoted to Head Peacekeeper of District One, it was safe to assume I wouldn't want to compete against my home. She was wrong when she thought that I had any loyalties to where I once lived, but something was still holding me back from announcing my intentions of volunteering. It was the possibility that I could still back out whenever I chose.

If I never said anything, then maybe it made it not true.

"You'll find out what happens tomorrow," I stated, realizing I was telling myself that as well.

"I know. I'm not too worried about it."

Her reflection smiled back at me as she turned around, "Promise me you'll keep an eye on everyone while I'm gone."

Suddenly, I was backed into a corner. I had almost made it this entire time without lying to her. She almost made it easy, never asking too much about my past. If she ever did cross a line, I just told her I didn't want to talk about it. However, this wasn't something I could shrug off. I couldn't just say 'Maybe I will. I can't promise, though, because who knows? Maybe I'll be on that train with you'. No, I now had to either lie or come clean.

It was easy to lose myself in the fantasy of swinging by daily to see the Lockett family. In the past few months, I had spent a good deal of time here. Her mother was always kind to me and Rouge had become one of my closet friends. Polish kept her distance, but Rouge assured me that was just the Lockett way. They didn't open themselves up to people easily, much like myself. Still, I could imagine walking in and seeing Mrs. Lockett reading a book. Partridge would be sleeping soundly in her arms, but would soon wake up from her nap. I would pick her up and start flying her around like a hovercraft, just like she loved.

So when I promised Rouge I would, I wasn't lying. I would have loved nothing better than to do just that in a rosy world where everyone was happy and my past was nonexistent. Lost in my carefree fantasy, I completely intended to see my commitment through. However, as I left the brightly lit house and stepped into the cold, harsh night I was forced back into the real world.

A dark world where I had other commitments and duties that took precedence to even my closet friend's request.

I walked into the dim townhouse with slight curiosity. One lamp was lit on the entryway table and a piece of paper was leaning against the shaft. I picked it up and read the letter's contents.

Hey Zavij,

Came by to see both you and your mom before the Reaping tomorrow. Surprise, surprise; neither of you were here. I'll just swing by tomorrow morning and possibly walk with you both there! I'm not on duty so I don't need to be there at any specific time.

See you tomorrow,

Kane

I found myself smiling as I folded the note and stuffed it into my pocket. Kane was the only other true friend I had. He was a Peacekeeper and was first just hired by my mother to watch over me whenever she was called away. However, as time passed we had managed to become close companions. He brought out a side in me that not even Rouge could access. It was a less serious, more childish side. Whenever I was around him I laughed more and focused less on the solemnity of life. I actually felt like a normal eighteen year old guy.

As I began to ascend the stairs I heard someone clear their throat loudly. To my left in the living room sat my mother. The only light in the room was the roaring fire and it cast shadows every which way. Her entire body was rigid and firm; she appeared to have been sitting there for quite some time. Her blue eyes stared right through me as she stated,

"Where have you been all evening? You left your dear mother all by herself on the eve of your departure. Not only is that bad-mannered, but quite hurtful."

Her words of disapproval stung as I murmured, "Sorry, Mother. A friend needed my assistance."

"Out of all two of them?" she chuckled darkly. "Now which one could ever take priority over your own flesh and blood?"

I didn't respond as she stood up and sauntered closer to the fire, "It couldn't have been Kane, who you have known for years, since he slid that note right under the door. That only leaves that pretty victor, Rouge."

She glared at me as she chuckled, "I was happy when you became friends with her at first. It could never hurt to have a friend like that in higher places. But now it's getting complicated. You're getting too close and feelings are clouding your judgment. I though you of all people would have learned to never fall for a pretty face."

"I was helping a friend, that's it. It was nothing like that."

"Not yet," she barked as she grabbed an iron poker and stoked the fire.

Suddenly, she became even more rigid. She shakily placed the poker back in its holder and scowled at me, "The only reason you wouldn't spend your last night at home with me is because you're not actually leaving. You're having second thoughts, aren't you?"

My mother's perceptiveness and intelligence was astounding, as always. I walked into the room and sat down in one of the armchairs. I refused to look at her as she glowered down at me.

"Need I remind you that this is what we've spent your entire life training for? Everything has been building up to this moment."

"I know, Mother," I snarled.

She reeled back at my tone before laughing slightly, "Oh, I'm sorry? I thought you had forgotten since you're acting like such a fool."

She marched over to a nearby cabinet and yanked it open. She pulled out a glass along with a crystalline container. I twitched slightly, feeling guilty. Mother only drank when she was extremely upset… The fact that I was the reason jarred me.

As she poured, she hissed, "Are you forgetting why you have to volunteer? It's the only way to keep you safe."

Of course I remembered. Mother was a Head Peacekeeper. I was raised knowing it was only a matter of time before someone came after us. From the moment I was born, Mother knew she had to raise me in a way where I could face any and all obstacles. With this mentality, I had been groomed to go into the Hunger Games fully prepared to win. Once I won, I could request for the Capitol's protection for both of us. Victors were untouchable; especially the ones that obeyed the Capitol's every wish. The only thing was… I wasn't as confident as Mother that I would win. Anything could happen… And I wasn't sure I wanted to risk dying for it.

She downed an entire drink before spitting out, "Do you honestly think that since you're now all snugly with a victor that you're protected? Wake up! You should know more than anyone that everyone around her dies! Her brother, sister, lover, tributes… Everyone who comes into contact with her gets hurt."

I wanted to tell her that wasn't true… But facts were facts. People in Rouge's life tended to reach an expiration date rather quickly.

"You're an idiot if you think derailing from our plan is intelligent. After all I've given up for you! After all I've done to make sure you would succeed! You're just going to throw it all away because of some fleeting feelings of comfort and warmth."

I shook my head. Mother didn't understand… It had nothing to do with anyone else but me.

"I once had those feelings," she whispered as she slid the glass back into the cabinet, "Your father made me feel so protected. I thought nothing bad could ever happen to the two of us while he was around. Then he got a bullet in his brain right in front of us."

My heart throbbed painfully as I saw Mother's broken expression. Her face was shattered glass; full of agony and sadness. I was just a toddler then, but Mother remembered it all. She had someone she loved stolen from her and had to raise me on her own… All I ever had was her and all she had left was me.

"I am so sorry, Mother," I replied as I stood up. I reached for her and hugged her tightly. "I was being selfish and weak-minded. Please forgive me."

"Of course I do," she whispered as she ran her fingers through my hair, "All I want is for you to be safe, and we both know this is the only way. Everything I do and say is always out of love."

As I held her, I felt the guilt ease away. I never meant to hurt her… I supposed that was the problem, though. I hadn't thought of Mother once when I was having my doubts. Now that she had set me straight, I knew she was right. I was living in a made up world because I was being weak. It was our plan for me to volunteer and win the Hunger Games. I couldn't throw away all of my training and all that we had been through… No, that was for the feeble. I was going to be strong again, like I had been taught.

And the strong didn't ever have second thoughts when it came to what had to be done.

Oh I adore these two tributes so much. So unique and so intriguing, just like all of my tributes! I hope all of you are settling in at school since that has started for nearly anyone. I still have two weeks before I move into my college dorm. I should probably go shopping for… well everything, huh?

I will admit I'm slightly concerned. I know the Reapings can be long, but darn some of you are already dropping off like flies xD I do hope it is just the busyness of school starting up and you'll come back to join us soon. I was saddened by the disappearance of many of you from last chapter and missed your feedback.

On a brighter note, I'd like to give a shout out/thank you to PowerPlayer. For those of you who don't know, this artist has been a long time reader of my stories as well as fanartist. He just finished a portrait of the victor from my last story! Check out his art if you get the chance, the link is on my profile! I always love his work!

That being said, thank you all for your continued support and I am excited to hear your thoughts on these lovely tributes!

See you next week,

Europa