I don't own The Hunger Games.

Here we go, I'm sorry it took me so long to update I've been SUPER busy. But it's finally here!

Ch7

I hate how this elevator ride seems to never end. We are going to The Training Center where we will train for a few days. Then we will show off our best skill to the Game Makers, after that they deliberate and give you a score. The highest you can get is a 12. So far no one has ever gotten a 12, and I don't think this year will change anything. I have no idea what I plan to do, probably throw around some heavy objects. When we get to the Training Center we go to our different training stations. Me at Katniss stick together and end up at the knot tying station. The instructor seems nice and he teaches us some fairly helpful knots. After that Katniss drags us to the camouflage station. This is probably my favorite station in the Training Center. This is the station where I can really use all the skill that being a baker's son has taught me. The delicate hand you have to have while you paint a cake, it all seems to bring me to a place where I am completely at peace, and for a few minutes I forget where I am and who I am with and just let myself be happy. But only for a few minutes, because Katniss decides she is sick of camouflage and move in to the sword station. I reluctantly follow and discover after a few moments that I am no good with a sword.

"I'm going to go lift weights." I say. She just nods and continues sparing with the instructor. I go over to the weight lifting station and start out at about 100Lbs. to me lifting isn't hard, it's just something that I have to do. At home if I don't lift the heavy bags, then bread doesn't get made, and people go hungry. I lift for about a half hour and then decide to try me hand at archery. I walk up and grab a bow. The arrows and bow are made of fine manmade material that most people in district 12 could never even dream of affording.

About an hour and a half later we are excused to go back to our sleeping quarters. I take a shower and dress in jeans and a bright blue T-shirt and go down to dinner. I have to be careful eating the fancy capital food because I get so sick if I eat too much of the rich stuff. Dinner is about as uneventful as it gets. There is little conversation, we are all thinking about the same thing. The training scores tomorrow. I am not too nervous, does it really matter how well I do, it's not like I plan to live through The Hunger Games. I go to bed early that night, but can't sleep. My mind won't shut off. I don't know if I can do this, all of it. The Hunger Games is a lose- lose situation. Only one of two things will happen. Either I die in a horrible way that will please the capital, but then never have to deal with the hate, pain, anger, ever again. Or the alternative, I live and have to live with the guilt every day. Have to see the faces of those I kill every time I close my eyes. Finally I can't stand it anymore and I go sit up on the roof. I sit there for a few minutes in silence, before I hear a noise. It's Katniss.

"Oh sorry I didn't think anyone would be up here," she says. I nod.

"Couldn't sleep?" I guess.

"Not a wink, you?"

"same." I say and she nods." We sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before she asks "are you scared."

"Yes but mostly because I don't want to die just a tool in the capitals games. I don't want my death to be another nothing; I want my death to mean something."

"Ya, I get what you mean."

"Do you think it will be hard to kill another human?" I ask.

"Yes, but how different can it really be from hunting." I get what she means. If she cannot think of them as humans then she will be one of the fiercest killers because of her hunting experience.

"I'm sure in the end I will end up killing like the rest of them.' She looks at me for a few minutes.

"You know Peeta I was wrong about you.' And with that she gets up and walks away.