I woke up groggily, not opening my eyes. I was afraid that if I opened them up, then I would find that I was still alive, and not dead as I should be, as I wanted to be. But…maybe I would open my eyes and I would be in heaven…? Or maybe hell. I wasn't really sure at the moment…

I peeked open an eye, and let out a startled yelp as Zim's face was inches from my own, his eyes their natural ruby color and opened wide in curiosity. He smiled when he realized I was awake and puffed with amusement at my reaction.

I crossed my arms. So I wasn't dead. Oh, joy.

"Zim."

"Dib."

We just looked at each other for a while until I broke the awkward silence. "Why aren't you wearing your disguise?"

Zim took a step back from me, giving me my personal space back. "Zim didn't feel like keeping on his wig and contacts. Do you know how unbearably ITCHY they are?" Zim shuddered. "Besides," Zim gave a dismissive wave of his gloved hand. "The Dwicky-human won't walk in on us, nor will the slaves. They like to give us our personal space before the Games begin because you know," He flashed a grin, showing off his zipper-like teeth. "we need all we can get before we die."

I found it sickening how he put it so bluntly like that. So I just kept silent, waiting for Zim to spike up another less-death-related topic.

"Dib-thing. Dwicky wanted me to show you this once you woke up." He tossed me the remote with a single blue button on it. He sat Indian-style on the foot of my bed, his antennae perked up in interest and his gaze glued to the blank TV-screen.

I averted my gaze to the remote, and I nervously pressed the button, a little afraid of what would happen. The TV flicked on, and the title went on the screen as

'The Tributes for this Year's Hunger Games! May the odds ever be in your favor!"

I held my breath. I knew that I would have to watch these sooner or later, but I couldn't help but wonder which one of the people that would be featured on the television here would be the one who killed me. Or maybe…maybe the one who would kill me is in the same room as me. I shuddered, imagining one of those metal spider legs plunging deep into me.

"Hey, Dib-stink! Look at that one!" Zim cackled, drawing me out of my thoughts. "She's so little!"

He was pointing to a little girl on the screen who looked about twelve. She looked as calm as ever, except for the silent tear rolling down her cheek. The announcer said that her name was Zita. Dib remembered her vaguely from grade-school, but obviously Zim didn't.

They kept on showing different people, but only a few stuck out to Dib. Zita, for one, but also Torque, and some other girl named Aimy.

Then it showed the reaping at Zim and Dib's area. Both were silent for this one. Even Zim shut up on his stupid comments.

Dwicky had called Gaz's name, she stepped up, and oh! There's me, right on cue. I looked sort of panicked, and my face was tense. I made a mental note to look more relaxed like Zita.

Then Zim was called, and there was Gir, clapping like a retard. He probably had no idea that he was going to be forced to watch his master be killed on live television.

"I hope Gir will be okay by himself…" Zim whispered after the national anthem played and the TV was flicked off. I just bit my lip. I didn't know Zim really had anyone to care about back home…I had always thought Gir was more of a slave than anything to him.

Zim sighed a pulled off a glove, reaching forward to feel my forehead. He smiled and pulled on his glove once more. "Your fever has broken, Dib. Now get up."

"Why should I?" I grumbled. I wasn't in the mood to get out of bed. Everything in my body ached.

"Because I want breakfast." Zim pulled on his wig and tapped on his contacts before pulling me out of bed by force. He grabbed the white paper bag that his "father" had given to me. He reached in and brought out a cookie.

"Cookie?"

I was tempted to reach forward and take it, engulfing myself in the sweet taste. But I was starting to get suspicious…why was Zim being to nice to me? He was probably just trying to gain my trust so he can kill me easier in the arena.

Oh, no. I'm not falling for that.

I slapped the cookie out of his hand and stomped on it. I crossed my arms. Zim looked a little surprised, but then grinned. "Fine. Have it your way." He reached in, taking one of my cookies, and popped it in his mouth tauntingly before walking away, motioning for me to follow.

I let him walk away by himself, and I just flopped on my bed. I started to cry, because this would be the only place where I could do it. After today, they will start to film every move that we make, every word that we say. And I don't want the other tributes to think of me as an easy target.

After I cry myself out, I get out of bed and brush my hair. It's messier than usual, but I let my signature scythe stay. I fumble around for my Swollen Eyeball pin and put it on my shirt. Okay…now I was ready.

I stumbled over to breakfast, and sat down. Zim was glaring at me, apparently angry that I didn't follow him. Whatever.

Sitting across from us was Dwicky, sipping red wine. I poked my own glass, which was filled with the stuff. I sipped it, and nearly spit it out. But I managed to choke it down.

Zim pushed away all of the food and crossed his arms, waiting for breakfast to end.

I looked at Dwicky. "So…uh…you're gonna be our mentor?" I asked him.

"Duh. Why else would I be here?"

I rolled my shoulders. "Er…have any advice for the two of us?"

Dwicky leaned back in his chair, mocking someone who was lost in thought. "Hm…oh, I know! Try not to die, and you'll be fine." He chuckled at his own joke, but I at the moment, realized that I loathed this person already.

Zim lunged at Dwicky, pulling at his hair. I throw a fork at him, but he dodges it, and it stabs the wall.

After Zim unleashed Dwicky and sat down again, Dwicky cocked an eyebrow. "Do my eyes deceive me or do I have a pair of living chances on my hands?"

Zim and I just took a sip of our wine in unison, both gagging.

Dwicky chuckled. "Or maybe not."