My eyes open slowly. I must be heavily sedated. I can't think. I feel nothing.

I pass in and out of consciousness for what seems like days. Sometimes I am aware of figures working around me or sitting beside me. I hear voices but they don't form words.

I wake up. I'm still heavily sedated. I can think. My left eye works perfectly now. The room is small and dark grey. A large bulky figure sits by me. As my eyes adjust I make out the butch face of Slade, my mentor. He stares at me and a small smile crosses his lips. "The hero awakens," he says quietly. I can't talk but he fills me in on everything. "You're in the training centre medical bay. You were completely knocked out for three days," he continues. "Then when they started giving you less dosages of all those drugs, you began to half wake up every now and again, sometimes murmuring the name Aliss. Who is she? Anyway, you've been doing that for four days now, and finally you're awake, properly this time."

That long? I've been like this for a week. Slade then begins telling me how my condition was so critical, and my wounds so bad that my life depended on being completely asleep, with medical staff working on me constantly. The presentation of the Victor is usually a few days after the games end, but they have had to put it off longer due to my condition. I imagine the capitol people must be getting impatient.

I wonder if I still look like a monster? As if Slade could read minds he says, "You're looking fine though, kid. They're gonna make you look prettier than you did before the games even started! The burns you received could have been a lot worse."

Fatigue suddenly takes over and I gaze towards my bedside table and my eyes are just able to pick up the intense green of Aliss' ring, before I disappear back into drug-induced sleep.

I stay in the small medical room for another two days. My medication is slowly reduced until I no longer rely on it. My broken wrist has healed well. I don't know what the doctors did to it but I can already move it, though the movement is limited and painful. I am able to get out of bed to practice walking. My body still aches but I think that's from being bed ridden for so long. My wounds seemed to have almost finished healing. I certainly feel a thousand times better. I pass by a mirror and look at myself closely. The monster is gone. I look like I used to, except I'm skinnier and I look a lot frailer. They shaved away the remains of my hair so now I am bald. Only a couple of millimetres of hair cover my scalp. My body is also covered in scars, though I am told that when I am completely healed, I will be getting something called a body polish, to remove the scars and make me look – as I heard one female nurse say – "Like a newborn child." My burns and scars have faded remarkably. I can't begin to imagine the expense of the medical technology used to heal my body. I'm just glad that I could receive it.

I study my face and notice my nose has been fixed up, yet it still has a slight kink in it where it was broken. I also notice something about my eyes. What is it about them? Yes, that's it. They look tortured. It's at this moment that I know, without a doubt, that I will never be the same ever again.

I fiddle with Aliss' ring, which I am wearing. It looks so beautiful, especially next to my scarred fingers. An overwhelming feeling of relief touches my heart as I realise that I will be reunited with her soon. I make a new promise. The promise that I will never leave her again.

I hear someone approach me from the left and I turn quickly, the instinct from the arena still ingrained in my body. "Relax tough guy, its only me!" says Slade. "Come on pal, we got to get you ready for your presentation! Your prep team will be here shortly."

Oh god. Not the prep team. Before I can protest, Slade is guiding me out of the room and down a corridor. There's no use struggling. Slade is a dominant, assertive and aggressive kind of guy. What he says goes. He won his games out of strength and bloodlust. Of course, he was a volunteer. Yet to his credit, I must admit that he does exhibit a high level of intelligence and charisma that makes him so likeable. He is only three years older than myself.

As Slade guides me around a corner, I see Selvia and Marge Vindavuer, standing there waiting for me. Selvia smiles at me. I almost wait for her to burst into tears again like she did just before the games started but she doesn't. Instead she approaches me and embraces me. "I'm very proud of you," She whispers into my ear. I feel her hands pressed against my muscular back. I embrace her back. "Thanks," I reply. Selvia's blood red hair smells nice. I feel myself relax. Marge Vindavuer totters over to me next and gives me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. Her eyes flitter about my battle-scarred face. "My my!" she exclaims. "What a tough nut you are to take a beating like that! I'll tell you now I could barely look at the screen during your final fight! I was almost in tears!" Her chirpy capitol accent makes me smile. I can't begin to imagine how Marge would hold up if she was thrust in the games. So flimsy and delicate. The thought makes me chuckle a little, though I am truly glad to see her.

Selvia leads me across the room towards another doorway. I don't dislike my prep team; they just overwhelm me is all. As soon as I walk through the doorway I am swamped. All three of them begin talking at me none stop. They embrace me all at once and I almost fall over from their affection. Almost as quick as the welcome had come, it is replaced by gasps of shock as they notice all my scars. They strip me naked before I can resist and plonk me into a padded chair. More gasps come from their mouths. Lasweena begins apply makeup to my face and neck. I watch her bright orange lips move non-stop as she works over me. All I pick up from her constant chatter is that I shouldn't worry because I am in good hands and that they will cover my scars. Mercutio, a tall thin man with beautiful black skin and fluoro green stripes on his arms begins preparing my nails. He lets out a gasp as he studies my hands. "Your hands! They're ruined!" he shrieks. I look down at my hands. Yes Mercutio, I think to myself. I jumped into a fire, what did you expect? I don't utter a word though. I'll let him work his magic on them. Marlo begins working on my hair, or what's left of it. Marlo is a short man with those horrid cat whisker implants that so many capitol people seem to have.

I zone in and out of their conversation. All they talk about is the games or how scarred my body is. I hear bits and pieces. "You'll be getting your full body polish tomorrow, but for now, make up will have to do" informs Lasweena.

"We wanted it done earlier but the doctors said not until tomorrow" adds Mercutio, "But don't worry Tomas dear, you'll have the polish done in time for your one on one interview with Mikel Angelico!"

That's right, first I have to be crowned victor at the ceremony, then I will have my interview with Mikel Angelico, the man who interviews the tributes before the games, then the victors afterwards.

After my prep team has finished with me I study myself in the mirror. Selvia helps me dress in a black suit, and a shiny white, collared shirt. What I like most about it is the beautiful green buttons at the front of the suit jacket. They go perfectly with Aliss' ring.

I study myself in the mirror. It is certainly not how I would dress back in district 2 but it certainly does look good. The suit fits my lean physique perfectly. It exaggerates my thin body as well as my muscular qualities. The green buttons flare with life, just like the ring that I wear. A small green flower that I cannot identify sits in my top pocket. My bow tie is jet black like the suit. The makeup nearly completely covers my scars. They actually tried to accentuate one scar that sits just below my right eye. I study my hair. Marlo has turned it into a work of art. Its only a couple of millimetres long, but he has used a special kind of razor to completely remove hair in some places which turn out to be sleek patterns and shapes that resemble blades and lighting bolts.

Apparently the look and persona they were going for was somewhere between a bad boy and a romantic. They have made me look both rough and tough, and also ready to sweep any lady off her feet. I beam with pleasure, as I know that Aliss will see me like this. Selvia tells me that in the arena, I built up a reputation of being a fighter and a killer, but with a soft side. This stirred some emotions; and as soon as that ring came down in the parachute, after I had given up, the whole of the capitol went crazy at the idea of me getting back into the fight purely out of love. The capitol guessed it was love, but no one really knew for sure, except that the ring was special to me somehow. I hear that the ring caused all sorts of speculation in the capitol. There's a knock on the door and Marges voice informs that we need to get going.