I'm genuinely terrified. I'm literally shaking in my cold, silver seat.

We were in a long hallway-like waiting room, all twenty-four of us. All of us were waiting for the same thing. All of us were expecting the same thing.

It was the morning of the presentations to the Gamemakers.

I walked to breakfast that morning stiff as a board. I was already changed into my training clothes, fresh with the scent of clean. My hair was done already. The bow around my bun was neatly wrapped in place.

Almost falling into my seat, I watched Cashmere slide into the seat before me wearing skintight black jeans and an equally tight grey shirt. It almost reminded me of my training outfit. She poured herself a glass of juice.

"So today's the day, kiddo."

I gulped. I stared at the empty plate before me, not answering.

Cashmere looked up at me as she finished pouring the juice and set it down. She reached for a muffin as well and took a bite.

"Don't be nervous. Just show them the knives. That's all they need."

I nod quickly. She's still not convinced, because she sighs heavily and puts down the bitten muffin.

"Look Lillianne, the Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee- don't you like, know him or something?"

My eyebrows furrow at the name. Heavensbee….Heavensbee….

"I…I knew his daughter. I think. He has a daughter right?"

Cashmere thinks for a while, then snaps, grinning. "Yeah! He does! Or… well he did."

I cock my head to the side. "Did?"

"Well, it was in the tabloids a few years ago that the quote 'gamemaker hopeful's' daughter died in a car accident with his wife as well."

My breathing hitches. "That's awful."

Cashmere shrugs. "I guess. Car accidents are daily here in the Capitol. People move on. I think her name was Rajima."

Rajima… the name is vaguely familiar. I remember shouting the name in my grandfather's garden, and a dark little girl coming at me and covering my eyes from behind.

"Hm…"

"So, are you ready?" Cashmere inquires, wiping her mouth. I see her muffin is gone and the juice is almost gone as well. I stand shakily.

"I think so."

We walk together to the elevator, and then I stop before the door opens.

"Hey- and Demetrius?"

Cashmere snickers. "He's late. Or early. I don't know, Gloss said he'll take care of things with him. Anyway, we have to go. Remember, you're first, girly."

I gulped again. I'm first.

As if to answer back to my statement, a computerized voice sounds above the entire room.

"Lillianne Snow. District One."

My teeth clench together. I look back to the door I came from, subconsciously wanting to run, but am met by the stares of twenty-three other sets of eyes. Demetrius pushes me forward and out of my seat, much like the Reaping, and I am forced to stand. I straighten my shirt and face forward to see the sliding door open.

I turn back quickly for one last look at someone who will give me their sympathy, and am met with District 12's male.

He gives me the weakest smile ever, weaker than a noodle.

The heels of my boots click on the stainless floor, and the lights come on brighter. I hear the sliding door close behind me.

Up above like a balcony in the far end of the room are a group of people all sitting in comfortable chairs and sofas, chatting and eating breakfast. They seem to be in a very lively conversation when I enter because a very large and surly man is leaning on the back of a couch to two older people.

"And then Jeanette said, barista? I thought those were female dancers atop bars!"

The crowd erupts into laughter, and the large man is in tears of how funny he thought his joke was.

I get to the center and spot the weapons table off center to my right. It reminds me of the setup back in preschool, when I picked up my first knife.

Sure enough, it doesn't take long for my eyes to scan the table and find the knives. Not just a knife- knives. I smiled a bit, then lost the smile when I realized I hadn't trained in a long time.

I shook off the feeling, because I felt the silence now.

I looked up to see the Game Makers watching me. I see them watching in anticipation, and I can already tell they've been waiting for this since my Reaping.

Taking a deep breath, I take a step forward.

"Lillianne Snow. District One."

I'm guessing it's Plutarch Heavensbee who gestures me to begin.

I nod to myself and turn to the table. Before I reach for a knife, I see a familiar silver band.

It's a Holo band.

Slapping it on absently, I try to really think through what I'm going to do, but I can't reel in my mind. I change the settings for the Holo and before me is a female around the same height as me. She's in ready stance.

"Come at me." I breathe, ordering her. She nods and runs.

I grab the first knife I can feel behind me and I throw it at her. It lands in her stomach and she doubles over.

I curse in my head. I didn't hit the target I had set- her chest. She gets up and continues to come at me, faster now, and I grab two more knives from the back and twirl them around my fingers. I make an 'X' formation when she's practically on me, and then I stick in the knives to her lower stomach.

She falls and disappears.

I look up at the Game Makers. They're nodding in approval, I believe. A lot of them seem intrigued.

But I have yet to be dismissed.

They want more.

"Okay…" I whisper. I look around to see a fake forest of four trees, three dummies, and a range all spread around the room. I start to sprint at the trees, the two knives I had in my hands sticking them into my boot straps.

I latched onto the tree, and I knew I was going to climb it easily.

Then I fell on my back, epically failing.

I hear the soft chuckle of the Game Makers behind me.

"Alright, Di-"

I cut him off as I reclimb the tree, trying to climb it as fast as I can. When I reach a long branch, I swing myself onto it and hold on with my hands, going down to it's edge like a monkey bar. When I see the dummies in range, I flip myself over and - thankfully - I land on the top side firmly. I slip out the knives from my boots and shoot them to the dummies below. The first hits the closest dummy in the corner of it's head. The second hit's a dummy farther back in the stomach.

I curse again. My aim was off.

However, they don't seem to think that. I climb back down the fake tree and walk to the center, breathing a bit heavily. No one says anything. Finally, Plutarch Heavensbee takes a sip of a fruity concoction and waves his hand.

"You are dismissed, District One's Lillianne Snow."

I'm bombarded by Cashmere as I enter my floor and exit the elevator.

"How did you do? Did they like you? Were you awesome? Did you miss? Did you mess up? I think you bested. Unless you messed up. Did you? Tell me!"

My eyes widened as the elevator doors shut behind me. I blinked. Cashmere smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, it's just- gah! I wanna know!"

She pulls me to the living room and immediately sets me down on the comfy couch.

"So…did you miss?"

"I…yes and no? I don't-"

"Okay, next question. Were they smiling?"

"I guess."

"Good. They were paying attention. That's always good."

I nod. I grip the couch from under me, not knowing what to say.

"Okay, and the weapons, did you-" Cashmere stopped and she saw me hyperventilating. "Uh…do you maybe want to talk about this after the Scores?"

I nod meekly, feeling out of breath.

However, I can't breathe even after Demetrius arrives and Gloss bombards him less than I was. I can't breathe when we wait for hours and Cinna and Jacques join us for supper. And I certainly can't breathe when Ceasar Flickerman is on screen and says my name on screen as we all sat in the living room to watch the Scores after supper.

"To get the ball rolling we have our most exciting tribute, District One's Lillianne Snow. She has obtained the score of…-"

He pauses, then does a double take. I've seen that double take. That double take was done when I was reaped. Those double takes are usually associated with bad news in my case. Nonetheless, I have small glimmer of hope. Maybe my score was good. Higher than the standard. All I wanted was a seven. Not to amazing, not too mediocre. Just…a seven.

"Please." I whisper, barely audible.

Ceasar coughs. "Lillianne Snow has obtained the score of three."

The whole room is in an uproar. "THREE?"

"Never, in my life, have I seen a Career tribute grab a three!" Cashmere shouted angrily, standing up.

"Lillianne, what did you do?" Gloss asks, grabbing my wrist.

"Oh dear, this will not look good for sponsors," Cornelia pants, putting her face in her hands.

It's Demetrius who notices my state. He shakes my arm. "Lillianne? Lillianne? Is she breathing! I don't think she is!"

And neither do I. In my head, thoughts are spinning. Three? A three! That's probably the lowest score in the history of District One. In the history of Career tributes. In the history of…well ever! How will this affect my sponsors? My alliances? …My odds!

I fall back on the couch and collapse, fading to black.

Review, please?