I own the Hunger Games. Not.

This is a lot of internal monologue-ing, though that will end soon, don't worry! Next chapter will be the training, and maybe the one after (this will be a looooong fanfiction). Then private training, then the interviews and then…

THE GAMES!

The Masked

This is not me. But I put this mask on, and I can't take it off now. This mask is fragile; it could break at the lightest touch. I must never let that happen. Never. I chose this. I never meant too, not really. I was just angry at the Capitol, at the world, at the man who threw the glass. But that doesn't matter anymore. However I did it, I did it. And this fragile, Porcelain mask of mine can't come off now, I cannot be me. I must be who the people think I am, the bloodied, reaped, raging girl from 4.

The rest of the night passes in a heartbeat. I feel as though I am in a dream. I am not an angry person; I like to stay hidden, in the side-lines, forgotten by everyone. That was my plan for the games, to hide until the end, try not to be noticed, to kill. I want to go home, I want to go home as me. Not as some person the Capitol created. Except I created this mask. They say the games change you.

I changed myself.

We finish the loop around the square, and then stop in front. The president drones for a bit about the Hunger Games, more or less copying what Gaia said yesterday. Yesterday? It can't have been yesterday? Once he's finished talking, our horses move forwards, into the justice building. The sharp 'jolt' actually does send the female tribute from 3 flying, she lands on her back on the edge of the chariot. The rest of the 'teers are laughing, like the president, and the Capitol. She looks mortified and terrified. She quickly picks herself up, struggling; she seems to be trapped in the folds of her long, black gown. She tumbles again, her foot caught in a crease. The laughing increases. She looks close to tears now, and I have to stop myself telling Kai and the others to shut up, and leave her alone. But I cannot do that. I am the rage girl, and I have to appear emotionless, or angry. So not me. The large doors to the training centre swing open in front of me, as I have seen them do many times before, on the television. This may be the last time I ever see them. The moving chariots go through the doors, and after the chariot for 12 has gone through, the doors slam shut with a definite 'thud'. The stylists arrive, clucking like overexcited chickens. My stylist, Junia, looks murderous, either because I actually made an impression on the Capitol or because I made her precious outfit bloody. Frankly, I don't give a damn. Lyna and Hydrao come over, Lyna looks half impressed, though keeps a smirk on her face. Hydrao looks shocked, but I see something behind his eyes, a look of unhappiness, maybe even grief. Why that is, I cannot understand. Gaia appears, happy at the impression we made, positively bouncing with energy.

"Come on, come on, come on!" She warbles happily, before saying "Big day tomorrow, the first day of training! After dinner you should go straight to bed, be awake for it all" She gives us all a sick smile that makes me wish I had already eaten dinner, so I could throw up all over her, and cover her with sick.

Then again, I could throw Junia at her to achieve the same effect.

Dinner is a quiet affair for me. I don't feel much like talking and Lyna and Kai seem intent in talking to each other, and each other alone. The food is delicious, but I seem to have lost the sense of taste, and it all tastes bland, like overcooked shrimp. Eating feels like more of a chore than an enjoyable activity. This is most definitely not normal for me. Marlin always says that if I could eat all I wanted, I'd make district 9 run out of wheat for bread! I'm most absolutely voracious, especially for the shellfish from my district. The thought of Marlin, and of district 4, just makes me feel lonely and sad again.

After I've swallowed down several servings of bland food (which Gaia insists tastes 'Splendid!') I make way up to my bedroom. Getting to this floor was easy enough. Just press '4' on the elevator and it brings you straight up here. We have one of the worst views though. Wish I was in 12. Or even 11.

Then again I think sadly If I was in one of those districts, I might be dead from starvation already.

As Gaia continually rambled about over dinner, it's the first day of training tomorrow, where I can learn skills to help me stay alive. So I can keep up my air of raging madness. Joy. Then again, I've never seen the training sessions aired on television, so perhaps I can be myself there, or at least, more like myself. I can't let the other tributes know how calm I am normally. A disturbing thought pops up in my mind. Maybe this is normal for me. Maybe it isn't even a mask. Maybe I'm naturally an angry, violent and bloody girl. Maybe I was covering my true self up around Marlin and Nymph. That can't be right. It can't. I refuse to let that be right. I try to block out this thought, but it keeps bursting up, and up, and up, again and again. Roaring like some hungry lion, refusing to be quiet, to be forgotten. I sink down into my bed, feeling miserable. I can't let this show to anyone. If I want to cry again, I should do it now. Hidden. But the tears that came so easily on the night of the reaping refuse to come now.

So I am the fury girl after all. This thought makes me cry, which makes me even more miserable all over again.

Stop I tell myself firmly What would Marlin think if he saw you now. You could be dead in 5 days, and all you can think about is your stupid emotions? I stop the crying, and punch a pillow next to me. Blue. Typical. The Capitol is unoriginal.

Marlin hates the colour blue. He likes yellow, the bright type, like the sun reflecting off the sea on a bright day. My favourite colour is green. Dark, bright green. Like rainforest, I saw it in the games a couple of years ago. Through all the death, all I could notice as the vibrant green of the surroundings. District 6 won that year. For the first time ever I think. I never told Marlin how I felt. I always felt that there would be time. I procrastinated. Not now, on your 14th, after the exam. He's busy now, tomorrow. You're too young! Maybe when your 16. 17. 18. Then the year after I would have to find someone to marry. We'd always assumed – Me, Nymph and Marlin – that Marlin would choose one of us, and the other would already have a boyfriend. Nymph always had a casual boyfriend on the go, so I always thought it wouldn't matter, I would end up marrying Marlin either way. But now, if I die, Nymph will go with Marlin. My crush and my best-friend. If I win though, I won't need to get married, I'll be a victor, and we're exempt from the marriage rules! Then I might never tell Marlin about how I feel. And I'll be alone, as usual. I punch my pillow again. Nymph always complained about the rule, she wanted to stay single, and so did I. I wanted to marry when I wanted to, after me and Marlin had grown together. We will never have that chance now. Either way.

Would Marlin even want to talk to me if I won? In our little cove, he'd talk about the victors, about how happy they were, even though they'd killed people, people like us. I asked him once whether he'd kill if he was entered. He never answered me, but I think he would. I would, I mean, I am going to kill. Preferably not one of the smaller ones. Not the ones from 3, or the boy from 9. Or even Kai. The thought of him lying dead sends shivers down my spine, though I don't know why. Would Marlin recognise me now, would he see past my fragile, porcelain mask to the scared girl I am now, the reluctant soldier? Would he see that, or the rage and fury girl from 4? Or would he see me. A mixture of the two.

I try to stop these thoughts coming but the more I try to stop them, the more intense they come. Images of Marlin and Nymph kissing while I scream at them to stop. Images of Dou from 9's death, brutal at the hands of a bloodied Kai, who's muttering insanely while he pulls his intestine's out like rope. Then the image changed, Kai's standing over me, holding my spear.

"You were wrong to trust me rage girl" He hisses to me "Wrong. I just wanted the pleasure of your company before I killed you…"

I do not know when I fell asleep, and when the thoughts transitions from mental images to full-fledged night-mares. All I know is that I wake up, sweating on the floor by the bed. I must have fallen off some point. It is dark outside, though a pink tinge can be seen peeking over the sickly-bright colours of the Capitol. I stand up, realising I am still wearing the clothes from the ceremony. Blood from my hand is still seeping from the wound in my hand. I rip of the towels. No-one asked me to give it back. It occurs to me that maybe my stylists were too scared to ask me for anything after my bloody entrance. . I can't really remember them from last night, though I do think that Tullia was hiding slightly away from me. Maybe it was my imagination. The idea the people who 'prettied me up' for the crowd's entertainment are afraid of me gives me a raw, savage pleasure. The idea that I liked them yesterday seems preposterous right now!

I chuck the white towels which are stained crimson on the floor and walk into the ensuite in the next room. I look at the showers apprehensively. Showers remind me too much of waterfalls, and of a nasty incident where Raym tripped at the top of one and fell down and hit his head on a rock. My father had to dive in to get him out, and Raym still has this scar on his forehead. He shows everyone at school for show and tell.

I press a button and a cloud of yellow explodes into my face, causing me to cough violently. I step out of the shower, retching slightly. I hold onto the door and cough up what seems to be my entire respiratory tract. Once I have regained control of my airways I breathe in and smell… Is that cheese? Who the hell wants to smell like feet after they shower? I go back into the bathroom, cautiously, like approaching a wild animal. Avoiding the shower I go over to sink and run the taps on full. Cupping my hands, I catch the cool water and dribble it down my face, washing away the smells from my body. It takes some time but after an hour or so of tedious washing, I feel presentable.

I leave the bathroom (giving the shower an evil look, as well as making a mental not to give it a wide berth. Somehow I do not feel like smelling like old cheese in front of my future murderers) and look in the cupboard for something to wear. The pink tinge has gained confidence, rising higher up in the sky, standing proudly over the buildings now. I sigh, everything has frills. Feeling moody again, I grab the nearest frilled T-shirt and rip of the arms from the elbows, where this stupid ruff starts. There I think to myself They can pay for that. I dress and find my green bracelet, well Marlin's, but I ignore this, and place it around my wrist, twisting it in my nerves. What should I do first? I feel myself being drawn to the knives, just because they are a useful and common weapon. Helpful right? I should also do plants in case there is no water in the arena, or if the only source is held by the 'teers. I made my choice tonight. I'm not joining them. I take a deep breath and walk across the room to the exit…

You like? YOU REVIEW! I have had no reviews for my last chapter, and I put hours into it :( It would be nice for a review, or some feedback for my hard work, be it positive or negative! I am also planning a sequel, or even a trequel of 3. Name-wise I am thinking 'Chipped Mask' and 'Shattered Mask'. But I may be unable to do them if I get no reviews. I may kill her off early if I feel unappreciated! Now I've had my little moan-y sulk, so please REVIEW! NOOOOOOOOOOOOW!