CHAPTER 7

The first chariot rolls by and I stare at the first two tributes: Cedric Diggory, and Alice Kingsley. They're dressed as glittering jewels, Alice in a long sapphire gown and a large headdress, festooned with the actual gems. Cedric is a topaz, or amber, or something orange. He's wearing a kind of orange body suit, it's thick and looks a little like crocodile skin, but it looks fantastic on him. It accents his muscles and sets his skin alight in a warm orange glow. District 1 cuts gems for the Capitol, and I'm not surprised their stylists have gone for such a beautiful choice. The chariot they're in rolls steadily past me and I stand up and cheer with the rest of the crowd. This is incredible! I never really understood why so many people went to the parade, until now. The atmosphere in the crowd is incredible. Everyone is just excited to be here, and revelling in each other's joy.

It's the second chariot now. The tall District 2 boy, John Smith, and the littler girl with the bouncy brown hair, Clara Oswald. They're in a large black chariot, pulled by four stone grey horses. Their stylists have made the bold decision to cover them in some sort of glittering dust, like they're both showered in tiny particles of rock. Put that with the nice silver tunics they're wearing, and they look like statues. Of course… District 2 is Masonry. And peacekeepers, but that would be an awful parade costume. They're sparkling ever so slightly in the light and the people around me are screaming their name, except neither of them look around. Silent and deadly careers. Still as statues. Until I see John lean down slightly and whisper something to Clara, who smiles excitedly.

I stare forwards, adjusting the hem of my little silver tunic. I don't like it. Silver has never been my colour, and the dusty stuff they threw over us tickles. I want to scratch at it, but John and the stylists told me not to. I like John, although his constant insistence that I call him 'The Doctor' is annoying. He's tall and he's athletic, but he's a career, not a doctor. I remember asking him the other day, 'Doctor who?' and he just laughed (god know why). District 1 is visible ahead of us and I can see the pair of them waving out at the crowd. I wish I could. But Bellatrix, my stylist, was very adamant that I should not acknowledge the crowd. We're meant to be statues, and statues don't move. He leans down towards me.

"Relax. You're doing fine." He whispers, and I smile slightly. He knows what to say when I need it, so I have to give him that at least. The chariot is a bumpy ride, and I'm starting to feel sick. I hope this is over soon. I much prefer traveling by car, or hovercraft. This is awful. I'm itching to look at the crowds as well, seeing as they're all calling my name, but I can't. The horses are allowed blinkers, they don't know where to turn, but for me it's like a huge itch. I love attention, and I'll be the first to admit it. That's part of the reason why I volunteered for these games. That and the whole honour thing, but I'm not particularly bothered. I'm doing this mainly for the excitement. I hate being bored. This is ideal.

Time for District 3. I sit back down in my chair, but I'm still just as interested, and I lean forwards expectantly. Their chariot rolls out, another set of four grey horses, except that this time their chariot is so silver, it reflects the surroundings like a mirror. Sherlock Holmes, the boy, is stood tall and proud, holding one arm up in recognition of the crows. Molly Hooper is stood timidly next to him, waving shyly at the cheering audience. The pair of them are wearing black capes, although Sherlock's is considerably longer than Molly's. She wears a tunic, similar to those from district 2, but it is studded with electric lights, in little squares of different colours. Her hair has been curled and left bouncing round on her shoulders. Sherlock is wearing a silver shirt with electric light studded buttons (I'm shocked he manages to pull it off) and a pair of skinny lack trousers. Not unremarkable, but not the brightest of tributes.

District 3's gone by and now it's time for 4. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase are both extremely athletic looking, although other than that there's no resemblance. Percy has dark, spiky hair, and Annabeth has blonde curls. He's taller, and fitter, but from the way she looks out at the crowd I get the feeling she's watching us all, assessing the situation a lot more thoroughly than him. I yell their names out along with the crowd, my voice cracking slightly from the excitement. Annabeth looks over at me and I hold her gaze for little more than a second. I'm finding it hard to believe I never got excited about the games before. She's wearing a blue and green netted dress that separates into strands at the bottom, like sea weed. Percy is wearing a deep blue top that clings tight to his chest, and navy trousers. He's wearing this headdress with little points sticking out of it, each dividing into three, like lots of little tridents. He, like Sherlock and Molly, is wearing a cape, although his shimmers in the light like a fish skin. Classic District 4.

Annabeth stood next to me is both a comfort and a cause for worry. I'm terrified for her. Not that I'd ever tell her that, because she'd just laugh and call me a sentimental old seaweed brain. Besides, she knows how to look after herself. I still worry. But the fact that she's here, one of my best friends… My best friend… it's amazing. She's always been there to help me and she always sees the most realistic side of things, which will be a huge help later on. Later on, when we're in the games. There can only be one winner, and I'm going into the arena, having to fight with my best friend. I don't want that. I want to win as much as I want her to win. I know that this is exactly not how I should be preparing myself for these games, but I can't help it. How would you feel? Having to kill your best friend? Horrified doesn't even begin to cover it. This is awful.

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Lucy xxx