The idea of the Hunger Games is not mine; otherwise Finnick would be alive and married to me. Now that's over, chapter 3 is starting…

The Entrant

It is dark when I awaken. I wake up to find myself curled up in a ball on a comfy bed. So not my real one then. My heart sinks when I remember where I am, and why, but no more tears come. I think I may have no more water left to cry. The sheet I am lying on is slightly crusty with tears, but I still stare at it in amazement, it is a light blue, the colour of the ocean on a clear, summer's day. I can almost picture the fisher boats sailing across the sheet's folds. I content myself with staring at the sheet, hoping that if I stare hard enough, I will be transported back to District 4.

I do not know how long I do this for, either a minute, an hour or several hours, but after some time I realise that I cannot remain here forever, and I must leave here at some point. Groaning somewhat, I make myself sit up and look around the room. I did not have any chance to observe it earlier on, as I seemed to be in some kind of stupor.

Now I am awake, I see that the Capitol lavish us dead-to-be with the finest. A navy blue chandelier bedazzled with white specks twinkles light down upon me, illuminating a blue-green carpet and mahogany furniture. The only thing that disappoints me is the fact that everything seems to be blue. The Capitol has no imagination. Could be worse though, District 12's coal so their stuff will be in black. Or grey.

I make myself get out of the comfy bed, and I move towards the door, which is in another shade of blue (this one sicklier than the others). I open it and walk down the train to the other end of the carriage. The lights are all off, but I prefer it this way, alone. I continue to explore, passing the room which I think contains a sleeping Kai (it has a small pile of small clothes lying outside, and I can't think of any other midgets on this train. I smirk to myself as I pass that carriage, but my smirk leaves my face as I reach a door with the word 'Mentor' written across the top in silvery-blue writing (the blue thing is really starting to get on my nerves).

We in District 4 are 'lucky'. We have had many victors over the years, and so the pool of potential mentors is actually rather large. We have had 8 victors over the last 33 games, so the Capitol came up with some sort of 'reaping' system to choose which one will mentor. Somehow, we always end up with the same woman, Lyna. Lyna won during the 19th Hunger Games at the age of 18. She was a 'teer and a ruthless one too, she won by pretending to be a nice, pleasant person and then brutally killed all 6 of her Allies while they slept, before she hunted down her fellow tribute from District 4 and then beheaded him. So, all in all, nice person. She keeps being one of the two mentors and I blame her for all the evil tributes we get in the arena. This year, our other mentor is the winner from the 31st Hunger Games, Hydrao, who won using less malevolent techniques (he ended up out surviving the others in a desert-like arena. We District 4ers are rationed on water and get a lot less water then we need.) I note that I would like to survive until the beginning of the Hunger Games and sneak quietly past this door, along with the other 'Mentor' door further along. I hope to stay with my head thank you very much. Or at least, until the games begin…

I reach the end of the train, or at least, the furthest I can go. This is the carriage where I entered, and I fully appreciate the splendour now. It is full to the brim of tasty foods, which I make note of so I can stuff myself with when I return in the morning. The floor is in a mixture of yellow and blue here, along with the walls and the ceiling. There is a photo of the President on the other side of the carriage, looking stupid as usual. The Capitol is proving itself to be exceptionally tacky. I stand by one of the walls and lean my forehead against it, its cool surface calming me. Only now do I realise how fast my heart was beating. I look out of the window and see the scenery flashing by, but as I search for a flash of blue in the horizon, it hits me that we have left the sea. I've never lived somewhere where I couldn't see the sea. I never realised how much it meant for me until now. I leave the window and sink into one of the blue chairs. I grab a long, bent yellow fruit from the bowl nearest me. I did not realise how I hungry I was until now. The lunch I shared with Marlin and Nymph seems like years ago. I sink my teeth into the fruit before spitting it out almost at once. It has an odd texture, slimy on the inside, with a rough, tasteless outer covering.

"And people eat this of their own accord in the Capitol?" I exclaim in amazement.

I eat the rest, hoping the taste improves over time. It doesn't. Grimacing slightly, I pick another fruit, one I recognise this time, even if I've only seen it once before it my life.

"An Orange" I tell myself, as if by saying its name out loud, I make my memories of it more real.

My first and only experience of an orange when I was 13 years old, 11 years after my mother died. My eldest sister, Yavina was 18 and was about to marry Dylan, a merchant son living near us. It's tradition in District 4 for the family of the groom to give something worth half their wealth to the family of the bride, sort of like payment for the bride. In our section, we call it the 'Emit Gift' though I know the name is different around the district and I don't even know if they do it in the other districts in Panem. Anyway, Dylan came over and gave us a small box, wrapped in the traditional blue paper with green ribbon. My other sister Javina got to open it as she's the second eldest in our family. She carefully peeled away the paper and presented us with a small, round, coarse, orange sphere. Behind me, I heard Meena and my father gasp, though I was still nonplussed. What could be so important about this small thing I could conceal in one hand? My father took it out of Javina's hand and placed it on the table.

"What is it dad" Movii asked, only 8 years old and still as talkative as a jabberjay.

"This" my father said "is an Orange. It's a type of food, but not one commonly grown in Panem. This fruit costs more than I earn in a year"

I looked at the fruit. It didn't look that appetising to me, and I think they could have been a bit more creative with the name. Orange? Might as well change the word fish to 'silver'. My father cut it into the orange thing and a Salmon coloured liquid seeped out, staining the table into the off-white colour it is today. He carefully sliced the fruit into 8 equal slices (though Movii still insists her slice was smaller). My youngest step-sibling, Selkie wasn't born so we each got a whole eighth to ourself. I looked around at my family sucking on their slices and did the same. My mouth seemed to explode. Used to bland fish, and the occasional loaf of bread, the acidic tang of the orange was stronger than anything else I have ever tasted. The tart-sweet juices were dribbling down my chin, making me look like an idiot, but I kept squeezing it until it was sucked dry. It wasn't too appetising after that, but I ate it all obediently, leaving nothing left, not even the rind. (Which tasted suspiciously like the yellow fruit I ate earlier).

I look at the orange in my hand. What is this place where you can get fruit like this on demand? I help myself to several, eating them in different ways, some I bite into, like you would a loaf of bread some I suck and on some I peel off the hard outer shell, a process harder than it looks, but it is worth it. Never before have I not finished a food entirely, in District 4 it is seen as waste, so all is eaten, even the fish bones are given to the animals. I put the rind in the tin bin on the other side of the carriage and sit down on the chair again, suddenly full of energy. I'm not sure if it's the 10 oranges I have eaten, or me realising I may be dead in 2 weeks, but I accept the energy and start to practice my aim. If I am to win these games, I have to practice, and I can't reveal my skills to everyone so I'll have no chance to practice in the training centre. I pick up the grapes from the fruit bowl and amuse myself by trying to hit the photo of President Resch in the nose, and award myself with another orange for every hit I get.

I continue with this for some time, and the beginning of sunrise is showing through the window of the train. I run out of oranges around sunrise and grapes a couple of minutes after that. I feel a sense of self-smugness at the pile of grapes now littering the bottom of our dear president's photo. I should really pick them up, but I can't bring myself to. Instead, I grab the knife I used to cut the oranges and an apple and chuck the apple high into the air, my aim to catch it on the blade of the knife.

"Nice throw"

I jerk around to see where the voice came from and in the process, the apple slams into the top of my head, bounces up and lands on the blade of the knife, slicing it clean in two.

Kai Nieme is standing behind me, smirking with his arms folded looking at me with a mixture of intense smugness and alarm, though the alarm is hidden well by the smugness. In fact, his whole existence seems to exude arrogance. He's shorter than me, about 5"5 or 5"6, he has long-ish copper-coloured hair that seems to bristle with the pride of being a 'teer. He sits down opposite me and picks up the apple half, and raises it to me as though toasting me. He then sinks his teeth into it and inspects me like a shark would watch small prey. He finishes and says

"We missed you yesterday, where were you? I thought you'd gone to blubber in your room, but now you don't seem the type"

I turn red as perch's fins and I hope he can't see me in the dark. He cocks his head in an inquiring manner.

"Were you practicing in your room all night?" he says, seeming as amazed as his smugness will allow. "Didn't take you for a volunteer, though you are the right age…"

When I don't respond, he cocks his head to the side again "How old are you, 18?" he asks.

"I'm 17," I tell him, not entirely sure why I am talking to him. "How old are you? You look about 14 in my opinion!"

He glares at me; his pride hurt, but regains his composure almost instantaneously. "I'm 18, and I've been waiting to be in the Hunger Games all my life."

He picks up the other apple slice and begins to chew that too "I didn't get picked last year, or the year before, but this year I'm going to win it, I can feel it."

I stay quiet, and he sends another smirk and tells me "what d'you think of the games last year, our tribute was crap, did you see him wimp out in the bloodbath?"

I seem to be accepted as nothing more than a 'teer by Kai, but I still don't know if I want to be one. True, as a 'teer you get more food and things like that, but the bonds are weak, and I know Kai would have no hesitation snapping my neck when push comes to shove. I make some idle chit-chat with Kai while the sun rises higher in the sky, lying occasionally about my view on the game until he makes some reference to the president and looks over at his picture, noticing the pile of green fruit on the floor.

"What were you doing?" he asks scornfully while I pray he cannot see the green slime on President Resch's nose.

"I was… I was seeing how far I could throw them" I tell him, improvising wildly.

He gives me another scornful look "not very strong are you then?" he says critically, "then again, the tributes this year are crap, did you see the reaping?"

I tell him no, and he leads me to the TV screen near the window and we start to watch the Hunger Games' reaping together. He is still keeps looking at me, sizing me up as either competition or an ally.

District 1 and 2 both seem the same, 2 large, brutish males with the same crew-cut, whose names are Loki and Camulos, but they seem to merge into the same person, both with the same greedy expression on their faces when they are selected to go through. The females are different, Copia, from District 1 reminds me of one of those sirens from our mythology, drawing in the men to their doom, I make note not to join the careers if she's in with them, as she would easily entice the men to do her bidding. I, on the other hand, possess no womanly ways and would be dead from the beginning. Still, it can't hurt to hang around the 'teers until the games start, to pick up the tips or information.

The girl from district 2, however, looks 15, and scared. I recognise her from the games two years ago, her twin sister won when she was 12, setting some kind of record I bet. District 3 passes by, leaving no impression on me, and I label them ''teer fodder'. I look away from my own reaping, as I have no wish to find out how weak I look on camera, I tell Kai I'm going to get some more fruit. I return back in time to see the bored looking announcer from District 6 (Looking irritated that he one of the crap district) announce the imminent death of a boy and girl, aged 15 and 14 respectively.

Only the girl from district 7 leaves a lasting impression on me, short and slender, with long, pale hair, she could be a ghost for all I know. She looks younger than me, but not by much. District 8 has more 'teer fodder and before I know it, we are at District 9, where both the son and daughter of the mayor get reaped, to the parent's dismay. District 10 leaves no impression on me, but District 11 is a different matter, a huge, hulking girl with curly black hair volunteers instead of a younger girl, who looks almost in tears.

Actually, scratch that, she's just burst into tears of happiness and fear.

Why would someone from an outlying District volunteer? I thought the people here were mad enough! I never thought those in 11 were mad too.

The boy looks nervously up at her, but manages to hold himself against her. And already, we are at the final district, where two similar looking people come up to the stage, a nervous looking girl and a tall, handsome man who looks way older than 18. Kai turns off the TV. "So that's the competition, what do you think?"

I shrug, but realising that this will probably not be enough I say "Dunno, district 11 looks good, along with the boy from 12. Also, the one from 7, the girl."

Kai looks at me disparagingly "The girl from 7, I could sit on her and kill her! She'll be dead within the first hour!"

I make another mental note to not, not, not join the 'teers before decideding to argue back

"Well strength isn't everything, that girl a few years ago, who just hid the entire games until everyone had forgotten about her? Well she won because the 'teers all killed each other."

Kai looks at me as though I've said a horrendous swear word, and I realise that the issue of 'teer on 'teer violence is a taboo, I steer the conversation away from this, and we chat about meaningless nonsense. He yawns and stretches out on his chair, and dozes off to sleep, even though it must be at least 8 in the morning now. It's only now, as I see him with his head lolling to one side, that I realise that he now seems to trust me enough to sleep near me, even if he knows my so-called 'skill' with a knife. It's only now when I realise I've been given a ticket to enter the 'teers, and I must decide whether to use it or not…

You like? You love? Then review! Or, even better, PM me with ideas, or if you want to be one of the other tributes, either one mentioned or one not! Ideas are free! And I want them!