Response to SibunaMockingjay: I'm glad that my advice is encouraging, and thank you for your encouraging review! In regard to reading suggestions, my very top one would be Francis Schaeffer's book called How Should We Then Live, which is also made into a short TV series (albeit a very low budget one) which you might be able to find on Youtube, though I'm not sure. It is short, simple, pretty easy to understand, and it contains so much excellent truth. Schaeffer was a genius. :) A few others would be The God Who Is There which is also by Schaeffer, Total Truth by Nancy Pearcey, The Soul of Science by Pearcey and Thaxton, and Economics in One Lesson by Hazlitt. Of course, you could read the big, heavy classics like City of God by Augustine or Institutes of the Christian Religion by Calvin, but those are much tougher reads, and while I do highly recommend them, I don't expect most people to be able to just pick them up and fly through them. They were hard for me, and I read the abridged versions! ;) But they are VERY good. Anyway, that's what I've got off the top of my head. I hope as the school year draws nearer, things fall in place for you! I'm going through a tough transition into college right now, so I totally feel your anxiety! Let me know if there's any way I can pray for you.

Author's Note: Here is the last chapter before the Games. This one was also pretty hard (who knew that Thresh would be so tough to write?), and I'd really appreciate some feedback on it. Thanks so much for reading; I hope you enjoy this update!

. . .

Despite the fact that I've slept well throughout my stay in the Capitol, I have no hope of getting sleep tonight. I try for a while anyway, but eventually I give up and decided to roam around the apartment. Walking always made me feel more at peace when I couldn't sleep at home, and a bit of home certainly couldn't hurt me now.

I stroll around the empty, dark dining hall without a destination. The pacing does ease my anxiety a bit, but I realize that tired legs tomorrow are a bad idea, so after a little while, I sit on one of the exotic couches and just stare out the window, which reveals only buildings. No stars can be seen in such a bright city, something that I consider almost a crime.

I am almost startled when I hear footsteps, at first I wonder if it's Seeder or Chaff coming to reprimand me for being out of bed. But then I notice now heavy the footfalls are, and I deduce that it is Thresh. I take my glance from the window to face the hallway, and sure enough, that massive boy is walking in my direction.

I shoot him a friendly smile, but when he first sees me, he stops as if thinking of returning to his room. I briefly wonder if other tributes are having the same encounters around the building. For some reason, I don't want to be alone, so I attempt to keep him from leaving.

"I doubt even one of the tributes is sleeping right now," I say as light-hearted as I can. "I just figured there wasn't much use in trying after a while."

Thresh does not respond, but maybe he can tell what I want, because he advances out of the hallway and sits on a couch opposite me, still not saying anything. We both remain that way, in total silence, until finally I can't bear it.

"I bet you've got a better shot at winning than anyone else out there," I comment. "I wish you the best."

Thresh's response is so surprising that I nearly have a heart attack. He lets out a sigh of frustration and raises his voice louder than I've ever heard him speak before. "Dang it, why do you keep doing this to me?"

I am taken aback, but not so stunned by this, his only verbal response to me, that I can't respond. "Doing what?"

"All you've done since you raised your hand is act nice to everybody," he says, his eyes finally meeting my gaze with accusation. "But we're going into the Arena where we will have to kill each other; twenty-three kids will be dead, and you act like we are all the best of pals. I know that that a similar strategy has worked in the past, sort of like with Johanna from District Seven, but do you know how despicable it is?"

I can't believe that's what he thinks. I am pierced by a pang of fear that this is what all the other tributes think I'm doing, but I know there's no point in worrying about that now. I can't deal with them at this point, but I can set Thresh straight. I look right back into his eyes, and answer with as much sincerity as I can muster.

"I do have an unusual strategy for the Games, Thresh. But this attitude isn't a show! This is just me. And the fact that twenty-three of us will be dead only fuels my desire to be kind to people. My compliment may be the last nice thing they ever hear, and maybe it'll give them something to cling to when the end does come." Tears sting my eyes, and I avert my gaze and blink them away. "We're not enemies, so why should I act like it? I just want people to see past these wretched Games and have some hope."

I know that technically my image as a kind person is vital to my plan for the Arena, but at the same time, what I've told Thresh is true. I am relieved when his expression of anger and allegation fades, and it appears that he is considering what I've said. Finally he sighs turns his head so that I can't see his face anymore.

"It's hard to see past the Games when they're killing you," he says in a tone which is hard to decipher.

"I know," I admit, "but I will try nonetheless."

Then Thresh surprises me again. He laughs. His chuckle is deep and quiet, but I decide that I like it. It's soothing and kind, like my father's. He faces me again, his eyes merry this time, and I cannot help but laugh too, even though I don't know what's so funny.

"Poor Seeder," he finally states, shaking his head. "She must've had a hard time dealing with someone whose ideals don't bow even in the face of the Arena."

That compliment means far more than the boy sitting across from me could ever know. I smile modestly and let my eyes wander to the floor, still giggling a bit. "Yes, poor Seeder," I concur. "I am sure she has found my stubbornness a challenge. But my family managed to coexist with me for seventeen years, so I think she's survived without permanent mental scarring."

Thresh laughs again, and I join in again, heedless of the fact that we might wake someone. So what if they lose some sleep? They've got their whole lives ahead of them to make it up. Meanwhile Thresh and I probably have only a few weeks left to breathe, and it is likely that none of those days will have any kind of happiness in them. We must enjoy joy while we can.

It is about an hour later that I return to my room, a smile still on my face. As I snuggle up under my covers, I think that just maybe I'll mange a few winks before being roused to prepare for the Arena. I am more happy than I have yet been in the Capitol, and though the black cloud of the Games is still very present in my mind, a star shines out from behind the darkness, and I keep my eyes fixed on it.

When morning arrives, I realize that I did get about four hours of sleep, and that's probably more than most tributes were able to snag. My escort hands me over to my stylist who gives me some plain clothes to wear before hurrying me to the breakfast table. I cannot really eat much, but I manage to take a few bites of bread before I leave. Thresh looks sad this morning; he knows that we'll be pitted against each other in a matter of hours. Because of the somber mood of the day, neither of us says anything.

At last, it's time to leave for the Arena. I give Seeder a big hug, and I realize just how fond of her I have become. She smiles at me, but she cannot hide her fear and sorrow. She puts both her hands on my face as if she's a mother taking one last look at her daughter before sending her to school.

"Are you sure you won't change your mind about this strategy of yours?" she asks, genuinely curious. "I can always get you sponsors, and—"

"I'm sure," I interrupt. "I have to do it this way."

Seeder shakes her head. "I just don't see why, child."

I quickly take her hand and draw a little symbol in her palm using my pointer finger. I try to keep the sign hidden from any cameras or eyes, and I am pretty sure no one saw it. It is highly illegal, and the last thing I want is to get Seeder in trouble.

"That's why," I answer quietly. She looks at me, total confusion evident in her expression, but I can't talk about the meaning here. Instead I simply shrug and say, "You'll have to ask my dad."

For a moment, we both stand there in silence, but time is ticking away, and I must leave. "You are very brave," Seeder says at last, her voice filled with emotion. Then she pulls me into another embrace and whispers in my ear, "They can never take that from you". I give her a knowing nod and try to grin, thought tears spill down my cheeks.

"Thank you so much for everything," I say, almost chocking the words out. Then I turn to leave, wondering if I will ever see her again.

I am put in a hovercraft, injected with a tracker, and flown to the Arena. When we land, my stylist takes me to the Launch Room and gives me the standard issue clothes that I will wear in the Games. I then step into the cylinder that will transport me into the Arena and wait. After a minute, the glass door of the tube slides shut, the ground beneath me rises, and I am pushed upward.

Light dazzles my eyes as I emerge onto my pedestal. When my vision adjusts, I quickly take stock of my surroundings as the countdown continues. Woods. A field. A lake. The Cornucopia surrounded with goodies. Tributes positioned all around it. This is the Hunger Games, and I must do my best to beat it.

The gong sounds and the Games begin.

. . .

Please be sure to review! Next chapter will start Amaranth's journey in the Games!