Over the course of the next few days, Prim grows more independent, waving off my attempts to make her open up. She even works longer hours than her mother does, saving up to seven lives a day. I'm impressed, but she's going without much sleep. I'm convinced that until Katniss appears on our screen, she won't get any at all.

"I can't even hug you? What if you need a hug?" I ask. "A hug can turn your day around." I add, hopefully.

"I don't want any hugs," she says firmly before the sound of the Panem National Anthem begins booming throughout the Square. Immediately we both whip our heads to stare at each other for a moment, and the next we're running into the Square just in time for Caesar Flickerman, the announcer and interviewer for the past few years to announce the beginning of the Chariots.

The scene cuts to District 1 wearing an interesting Gladiator sort of costume that I can't quite figure out the meaning of and its relevance to their district. The next ten chariots go by in a blur, when my eye catches on District 11. My breath catches in my throat and I feel a wave of pity wash over me. A petite, dark skinned girl with a simple twig-and-leave crown smiles for the crowd. She looks to be around the same age as Prim which makes me cringe. Her name is Rue. Well, Rue, you stand as much of a chance at winning as Prim would have. I raise three fingers to my lips and hold them out to the screen, but I'm the only one. I don't care.

This girl looks so innocent, and Panem just grabs her up with its dirty, disgusting hands and strips all of that away from her, tosses her into a place where her death is inevitable. And it's all for show. They don't take our feelings into account. We don't even have a say. But I'm willing to do what it takes to change that.

Then the scene is cut to District 12 and the crowd is ooh'ing and ahh'ing. Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire. Literally, on fire. Prim gasps beside me and her hand finds mine, digging her nails into the back of my hand. "They can't kill her before it even starts!"

"Maybe she doesn't feel it," I offer, because the look on Katniss' face is neutral. Blank. Her hair is on fire, she is doused in flames. They lick at her face and neck and I'm surprised she isn't a pile of ash right then. Her tolerance is admirable. I look around the Square and my eyes find Gale on the outskirts, almost completely swallowed up in the shadows. He stares intently up at the screen and his face transforms into disbelief, his mouth slightly agape.

I whip my head back to the screen to see Katniss and Peeta raising their flaming arms into the air, their hands clasped tightly together. I'm surprised and I don't know what to make of it, so I look back to where Gale was standing, but he's gone.

Without Prim talking to me, I'm left sleeping at home and being completely useless. That is, until Gale dresses me up in hunting gear and drags me into the Woods with him. I'm afraid to duck under the fence, because the sign reads Electrified 24/7, but the rest of it is smudged with dirt so it's unreadable. On the other side of the fence, Gale taunts me and repeatedly states how lame I am and if I'm so afraid of a fence, I should just go back home and put on a pink wig with matching lipstick and heels. Determined to prove him wrong and how manly I am, I hold my breath as I duck under the fence and I'm surprised to find that it's not electrified at all.

Gale ruffles my hair and pushes my head down roughly, which I like to call Gale's Way of Showing Affection. "Not so bad, huh, squirt?" I roll my eyes as I trump my oversized boots through the woods. "Be quiet, idiot, you're scaring off all the game." He shoves a bow in my chest and I huff.

He demonstrates the proper way to shoot an arrow, and I mimic him. "Well, good, if you're planning on shooting yourself in the face." I switch the direction of my arrow and pull back the string which launches it two feet in front of me and sticks straight up in the dirt. Gale looks at me in disbelief and with a shake of his head, he says disapprovingly, "Posy could shoot better than you."

Next he moves on and shows me how to hit right where you want to. He draws a target on the side of a tree, and I line up the arrow with the bulls eye, squinting one eye shut and take a deep breath as a draw the arrow back. Letting out my breath slowly, I let go of the string and I miss it by five feet. I look back to see Gale's reaction but just see him passing a hand over his face. "You're hopeless," is all he says and takes the bow from me. The intense focusing that hunting requires takes the worry of Prim and the Games off of my shoulders, even if it is just for a little while.

Stalking a scurry rustling the leaves from behind a tree, Gale quietly releases his grip on the string and his arrow goes flying straight into the rabbit's heart. I can feel my stomach grumbling but he said I can't eat until I kill something. Walking around the woods noisily, I can't find any animals. Spotting a mud pit, I see a worm trying to wriggle its way down into the hearth. Snatching it up between my fingers, I hold it up for Gale to see. He sighs. "That'll have to do. But you're eating it."

Today is the day that the tributes finish training; the day they release their scores to the public. Our entire district crowds the Square for mandatory viewing as faces flash across the screen with district numbers and scores. The high numbers coming from the Career districts don't surprise me and the low numbers from the poorer ones are the same as every year. What catches me off guard is when Katniss' face appears on the screen. 11. I gasp at the same time as others sound throughout the crowd. Then the screen goes black with a soundly plip. The crowd murmurs to one another and others are still in shock.

11 is the highest score you can get in training, and Katniss was the only one to get it. Not one of the Careers got a score that high. Nobody's gotten that kind of score in years. The Careers don't like being showed up, and I know that since it was especially a score that a tribute from the dirtiest, poorest, most starving district got, they'll have their eyes set on her. They'll make sure they're the ones to kill her, and as Prim buries her face in my shoulder, I know. The odds are not in her favor.