Chapter 2 of the series….This part includes the start of the games, and a cliff-hanger of sorts, because I love that sort of thing. Its an interesting one too…

The next update should be Monday, as I'm sticking to two updates a week for the moment.

'And while the law of competition may be sometimes hard for the individual, it is best for the race, because it ensures the survival of the fittest in every department.'

- Andrew Carnegie

Because I have never personally experienced it, what I didn't know about the chariot rides and interviews was how hard they were. I mean this is a few ways. It is hard, because you have no idea what to do, and it is painful, because I wanted to actually keep my leg hair for a bit. Unfortunately, that's not a luxury I am aloud to indulge myself in. This is all part of it, because I haven't even met my stylist yet. I keep a straight face, and although it is hard, I manage not to scream.

When I have finished being tortured, I meet my stylist, and he is exactly the same as the others from other districts. Stencilled, dyed, he even had light orange skin. Exactly like the other citizens of the Capitol. He put me in my outfit, which was an awful orange jumpsuit with a headlamp and pick axe. I felt like throwing the axe at his brain. This guy is a moron! What, in his twisted little mind, will this get us in the way of sponsors? Nothing. But obviously he doesn't realise that.

We all make our way down to the chariots. The music starts, and we climb on, all feeling ridiculous. When we roll out, the crowd almost goes silent. Of course, no one wants to see children dressed up as "miners". I scowl at them all as the crowd thaws a little and starts cheering, even though it is significantly quieter than for the rest of the tributes. We get to the city circle, where President Snow gives a speech, and then find ourselves back at the training centre. Finally.

I thought the worst of it was over, but it isn't. There are now the interviews to look forward to. Our mentor had to come up angles we would play up in our interviews. He didn't have to look hard for me. Sullen, and hostile. At least I don't have to try very hard.

The night comes and although I'm a bit nervous, I don't let it show. Like at the Reaping, I wipe my face of emotions. I'm in a simple black suit, with contrasting colours of grey and red on the tie and cuffs. When my name is called, I stand stiffly and walk over, sit down and don't say a word.

"Well Haymitch, what do you think of this year's games, being there one hundred percent more tributes?" Caesar Flickerman asks.

"Well, they're still going to be one hundred percent as stupid as usual, so I figure my odds are roughly the same." I say, with little emotion. The crowd laughs, they love it, but I don't care. Caesar asks me a few more questions, and I am myself, replying as sullen as possible, until finally my time is up.

Back at the training centre, I'm getting ready to go down to training, where I will meet the tributes and train for 3 days. My mentor instructs me to play it average; save your real strengths for the private sessions. I agree to this and make my way down with the rest of District 12's tributes.

There are so many people, I don't know where to start, but I decide my best bet is to learn something I don't know, so I go over to the survival skills area and spend about an hour or two learning some life-saving information. I badly wanted to get my hands around a knife, but I realise now as I watch the Careers that it would be a bad idea to flaunt my skills in front of them. I stick to the plan, going around form station to station, keeping to myself. When I am called in to the Gamemakers I head straight to the knives, pick up a few and head to the shooting range. I grip my blade, aim and throw hard, so hard that it sticks right into the centre of the target. The Gamemakers look impressed, and tell me I can go. I head to the elevator, but in last minute I turn around and throw my other knife at a rope holding a bag up. I split the rope, making the bag fall to the ground with a big thump, and I press the number 12 on the elevator to go back to my floor.

That night everyone sits down on the small lounge to watch the training scores. I'm not sure what the others showed the Gamemakers, but Maysilee gets a 9, which is pretty good, considering most of the Careers scored that too. Then my name is on the screen and they are flashing a number 10 underneath. Everyone is congratulating me and Maysilee on good scores when they only got 6's, and I can see they are jealous.

I board the hovercraft alone, with only my stylist accompanying me. He's as much company to me as dirt, but I can't really make him not come. We are only about 30 minutes into the ride when the windows black out. We are near the arena. We disembark into an underground cavern, with only a metal plate and a door. I get changed into the uniform, which consists of thin trousers, simple black shirt, a jacket, and sturdy brown boots. A voice comes over the intercom that tells the tributes to stand on the metal plate. We will be rising up soon.

I can feel it lifting me higher, and when I am above ground I look around at the arena. It is a very 'pretty' arena. There is no other way to describe it. Brightly coloured flowers, tall, picturesque trees, trimmed green grass. Everything about it screams "Trap!",even though I can't really place why. Everyone else is in a stupor, amazed at the arena. Apart from me, of course. The gong rings out, and I sprint to the Cornucopia, collecting what I need; knives, a pack, food and water. I'm running towards the trees when I look over my shoulder and see no one has even reached the Cornucopia yet. I keep running, further into the forest's reaches.

After about an hour or two, the cannon starts to boom. I count 18 shots, and do a quick calculation that there are 30 tributes left to play. At least 10 of them are Careers. I continue to jog or walk, trying to preserve some energy while getting as far away as possible from everyone. I keep an eye out for water, for snares that will give me an indication of human presence nearby. For a trap that will leave me confronted, injured and most likely, dead.

Night falls quickly, and I find a cave of sorts that would make an excellent first camp site. I haven't spotted any water sources, though. Looking through the pack, I see it contains a first aid kit, two empty water bottles (what good will that do), some crackers, and some knife blades. I add to the pack my knives, water, and bread. After I pack the contents away, I settle down to get a few hours rest.

Sunlight is just beginning to filter through the trees, signalling dawn and my time to wake up. I am just packing my things up when the cannon booms. And again. 28 left, I think.

I eat a breakfast of bread and some roots that were growing just outside my little cave. I wash it down with a bit of water, and head on my way. The walk is somehow relaxing, and I enjoy it, almost. I kill a rabbit, skin it, and although it would be great to light a fire, I'm thinking of the smoke and the Careers that could kill me, ever so fast. I am now also thinking of the cannons last night, and how close they sounded. I see multiple tracks of footprints, which lead in the direction I'm heading, and then that's where I come across the coals of someone's dying campfire. They are still hot, which is alarming, but the footprints are leading away, so I use the coals to cook my rabbit. Walking in the same direction, with my back to the mountains, I continue while eating the rabbit. I hear 3 more cannons as I am walking, which was interesting. There must be a fight going on somewhere. As I enter a large clearing, I see the shadows and I realise it's what I have been trying to avoid completely. A trap, and to be precise…

A trap of the Careers.