CHAPTER 6

'And now, I give you all…the tributes of Distriiiiict 8!'

The announcer booms in her silly Capitol accent, stretching the 'i' in District and rolling it around in her mouth as if it were a song. She does it every time and it's really starting to get on my nerves. District 8's tributes take their cue and stride across the built pathway, barred off with poles and ropes to prevent the screaming Capitol people from coming too close as they reach out with stained hands, eyes shut screaming with excitement, trying to touch the tributes. The crowds are loving the parade, no doubt about it. I'm not. I don't like seeing all the people who might kill me. I don't like seeing all the people who are probably going to be killed. I don't like seeing them wave and smile with confidence, knowing that I will never be able to mirror their actions. And I don't like standing in this room, waiting for my turn, in this ridiculous costume. Had wouldn't let me take it off last night so I was forced to sleep in this itchy, heavy fabric all night. In the morning, he shouted at me for smudging my make up and dirt and he re-did the whole thing, grumbling.

District 9 goes and I watch as 10's tributes step out of their small, box room, ready to make their parade. The girl looks confident. The boy wears a knowing smile. I wonder if it's part of his strategy. I scowl; I don't want to think about strategies. Reed never came to talk to me yesterday, and although Had reassured me and told me he would see me after the parade, I am seriously doubting my mentor.

District 10 finishes and I realise that now it's my turn. I suddenly feel even more self conscious in my ridiculous dress. Both Reed and Had are behind me. Thresh is beside me, flexing his muscles. He's dressed as a farmer too: he has a piece of cloth tied round his waist that is wound round his legs to make a thick bundle of fabric, a little like a pair of shorts. He also has a sweatband on his forehead. The rest of him is completely visible, so as to show how strong he is, I think. And I'm just another part of his costume, I remind myself bitterly; I look weak to show that he's strong. Well, I'll show everybody in the Arena what I can do.

'Look strong,' Reed tells Thresh.

'Show them what you can do,' says Had.

'They're going to love you!' Reed says. Thresh grins. Then Had turns to me.

'Remember, look small, innocent, scared, weak and stay out of Thresh's way. Look terrified of him.'

I scowl.

'And…'

I look up at him. He's smiling and sudden warmth spreads through me. Nobody has wished me luck since the Reaping. Nobody has said anything kind. I least expected it from Had. 'And…?' I say.

'Don't smudge your dirt.'

Which puts me in a bad mood for the whole thing.

When the announcer has finished swirling the 'i' in District and called our number, Thresh strides out confidently, flexing his arms, blowing kisses, looking like a winner. Gaining sponsors by the handful. I stamp out behind him, smiling as best as I can, but I'm worried my scowl shows more than my smile does. I give a shy wave, but nobody's looking at me. They're looking at Thresh, of course. Well, Had and Reed are going to be delighted, I think. This is exactly what they want it to be like. I have never felt so small.

Then something flickers inside me. A mixture between hatred, jealousness and rebel. But not for the Capitol. All of this burns in me all day, every day. But for the Capitol. And right this moment, all I want to do is show Reed and Had that I am not going to do what they tell me to keep Thresh alive. I will not be used like this. So I march up to Thresh's side and begin smiling and waving like he is. I do my best to look confident, like a winner. It's hard under the circumstances, of course, and my ridiculous costume. But I'm determined to do it.

'What are you doing?' Thresh hisses between waves and kisses. I ignore him. We are over half way along now. I focus on the audience and blow a kiss. 'Stop it!' Thresh tells me, 'You're ruining it!'

I ignore him again.

'You stupid girl, what are you doing?' he's angry now. He shoves me roughly behind him and I stumble for a moment as he marches on. The crowd quietens for a moment, murmuring and pointing, frowning. For a moment I think they are going to side with me and abominate Thresh for his move, but after a few seconds, they have evidently decided that he showed a great move of strength, courage. Of course, I think bitterly as the crowd scream and reach out to touch him, that showed him up even more. Now I've got no chance. Nothing to lose. So I stamp after him, tagging behind, all the way to the end, not even attempting a smile. I can see Reed and Had at the end, who have run round the crowds to be there. As we pass the ends of the crowds, they run straight up, congratulating Thresh.

'Excellent!'

'You really showed them what you were made of, lad!'

Then Reed turns to me. 'That was great!' he tells me. I frown, confused but something like pride or hope flutters inside me. 'Did you two work that move out together? You should have told me! It worked really well. You trying to copy him exactly and then him pushing you right back there! Brilliant! Perfectly timed! Now everybody sees Thresh as a winner.' He turns back to Thresh. 'It will take something to beat that! You need to watch out for Cato and Marvel from Districts 1 and 2. And the girl form 5. She looks sneaky. But we've seen everyone now and they're the only ones I think you need to be a little careful of. I really think 11 might have it this year!'

'We haven't seen 12 yet,' I remind him, trying to keep myself in the conversation. He frowns and looks down at me, irritated.

'12 are going at the moment. Go watch them if you want, girly, but I promise, they'll be no match for Thresh here. He'll be a mentor next year, I promise!'

I make a face at him, but I do go to watch 12. I love seeing the other costumes, even if I don't like seeing the other tributes. The worst so far has definitely been from the lumber district; they were trees! Then again, they're trees every year. Talk about boring.

I wander away from Reed, Had and Thresh and find a space in the room where I can watch without attracting attention. All the other tributes, mentors and stylists are crowded in the room. The entrance would be ideal, but that's guarded by District 12's mentor: Haymitch (who I remember because he fell off the stage at the reaping, or so Thresh said) and two Capitol people who must be the stylists. I have to admit though, they're not nearly as dyed and altered as the other's from the Capitol. They look almost human…

Eventually a find a high window, near District 2 tributes: Cato and Clove. They're talking with District 1: Marvel and Glimmer. Marvel, Cato – the two Thresh is supposed to look out for. I force my way through them towards the window. Cato stops me.

'Where are you going, girly?' he asks me. I scowl; I'm sick of being called 'girly.'

'I'm going to watch District 12.' I tell him. He looks down at my dress.

'What's that?' he asks.

I feel myself go red, 'My costume,' I reply shortly. I don't want to talk to these four; they are all quite likely to be the ones who…

'What's that, Cato?' asks Glimmer in high tones, looking at me. She's almost wheedling. I can't believe Cato would call me 'girly' and not her.

'A girl. Tribute. Looking at the costume I'd say…11?'

I nod. Glimmer whispers something to Marvel who laughs. I scowl at them and try to push my way through again. Clove holds my arm.

'Get off!' I tell her, 'I'm just going to the window.'

'It's not polite to push through,' she smiles. 'What are you so interested in little girly?'

They must have seen on my face that I hate the name, I decide. An answer springs to the tip of my tongue, something I can shout back at Clove but I swallow it. No trouble, I remember. I don't want to be killed before the Games begin.

'Lets see first, shall we?' says Marvel, and the four of them crowd around the window. They gasp. Not sarcastically, but a real, amazed gasp. They murmur things to each other. Some of the murmurings sounds are disapproving, some admiring. But what ever it is, it is something worth looking at.

'Let me see!' I demand, stretching up on my toes and desperately trying to see through these career tributes hairs which are thick and oddly styled. 'Let me see! Let me…'

'How did they do it?' Cato wonders aloud.

'Do what?' I ask.

'It's amazing!' cries glimmer

'It's ridiculous,' snorts Clove. 'It's not fair. They're going to get all the sponsors and they didn't do anything!'

'Let me see!'

The four watch for a minute more and then all step away from the window at the same time. Cato and Clove run off. Glimmer starts walking too. Marvel looks at me.

'You can look now, girly,' he tells me, following Glimmer. The noise seems to lessen as I stand on my toes again, craning my neck to see out of the window. I breath heavily and my breath steams up the glass. Rub it with my palm and look through again. It has grown a little cloudy outside. I can't see a thing.

'And that was Diiiiiiiiiiiiistrict 12!' booms the announcer. Well, what a parade! That concludes it, then! There are the tributes! And don't forget to tune in for the live interviews next week! Good bye.' And the megaphone clicks off. The crowds start to walk away, muttering excitedly. A few drops of rain splash down and a few people scream and pop up odd, fabric cones above their heads. I have missed it. What ever Cato and Clove, Marvel and Glimmer, whatever they were so excited by, bewildered by, whatever it was I have missed it. But it's more than that, I know. Yes, I wanted to see the costumes, but I know deep down that I really wanted to see the tributes. Katniss and Peeta. I love the name Katniss. I have never heard it before, but I like it. I heard them that day, outside the train doors and I knew, right from the beginning that I wanted to meet them, team up with them. And now there's something else. Something that made the Career's gasp and exclaim. Something about them that I don't know. I sigh and stare out of the window, even though the tributes are long gone. Even the crowds are out of sight now. But I don't want to do anything else.

I don't know how long I stand there, but I know that I am still watching long after the room has cleared. I am distracted, finally, by a tap on my shoulder. I whirl round, surprised. It's Reed.

'Oh,' I say. 'Is it dinner already?'

He shakes his head. 'No,' he says, 'I need to talk to you. You know – about your strategy. '

I roll my eyes, 'About time,' I say as he pulls me a chair. I sit on it. He stays standing.

'Had has told me that you did not approve of the costume, or his method of explaining it to you. He says you put up quite a fight.' He waits for me to respond.

I look at the floor but say nothing. He taps his foot impatiently. Finally I open my mouth. 'I know,' I say tonelessly, without looking up.

He nods. 'I think you will prefer the next costume.'

I nod, wondering what rags they're going to put me in for the interviews.

'I suppose you want to know about your strategy?' he says after a long, awkward silence. Something like fury bubbles up inside me. I grit my teeth and answer bitterly, still staring fixedly at the floor.

'I know what my "strategy" is,' I tell him harshly, 'I play the little girl, the weakling. I stand next to Thresh to make him look strong, to get him sponsors. To make him win. I don't have a strategy; I'm part of his strategy. Your making me look young and little and weak just to keep him alive!' I realise how dreadful and selfish that must sound but I don't take it back; I'm too angry.

Reed looks at me. I feel the look and I slowly raise my head to stare into his eyes. My neck feels stiff and reluctant and my eyes are watering. I try not to blink.

'Rue…' he says gently. He looks firm but a little pity is hidden beneath his frown as he pulls himself a chair, I'm sure of it. I know from District 11 and all the deaths and hardships, and pity that is needed there that people can't hide their feelings from their eyes. Eyes give away everything – if you know how to read them like I do. 'There can only be one winner,' he says, 'I can't keep you both alive, you know that. I chose Thresh. You know as well as I do he has a better chance than you.'

I look down again. 'So you're not going to mentor me? You're just giving me to Thresh to take care of so there's one less person in the way?'

'There can only…'

'You're just going to send me out there to die? For certain?'

His face is showing pity now, too, but I can tell he's trying to hide it. His lips go thin and he stares into my eyes. I lift my head again and stare back, biting my lip so hard it starts to bleed. His eyes are blue, I realise. But not cheerful, bright blue. Almost grey; a similar colour to his hair, only his hair has strands of brown in it. His small, grey eyes bore into my own large brown ones and he finally whispers 'Yes.'

I can't help it, I blink. All the tears I have been holding back for days spill down my cheeks in the space of a few seconds. Then more come. But I don't choke and splutter. I don't cry. Tears pour silently as I take in for certain what I already knew. I stand up silently and walk out of the room towards the training centre, which we were ordered to go into after the parade. I

It's dark outside and I realise I will never find my way alone. So I sit down on the marble floor and bring my knees up to my chest so I can rest my face on them. I know I am in danger of crying loudly and I don't want anybody to hear me. I realise it must be quite late by now for I am very tired. I sit there, in the pouring rain, for several minutes sniffing and crying, even whimpering occasionally. The sound of the rain drumming on the floor gradually gets louder and louder and heavier and before too long my sobs and cries can hardly be heard, even by myself. Reed does not appear again from the small, box room stood randomly in the Capitol square. So I lie down on the floor and curl up as I would at home when I have lost my way in the fields at night. I try to cover myself with my dripping hair but find it too short. I hate Had for cutting it. I squeeze my eyes shut to stop the tears coming but I'm still crying in my head. And I don't stop until I drift off to sleep.