School is a bump in the day. I pay little attention to anything the teacher says, and the whole day seems to fly along in oblivion until it's lunchtime and the mandatory Games viewing starts.

Gale finds me in the cafeteria as we wait for the screen to be rolled down. It's the fanciest technology that's ever been seen in District 12 schools, and only because the Capitol doesn't want us to a miss a moment of the Games.

Which, of course, Gale and I have. Prim and Rory and Vick sit at the opposite end of the cafeteria, crowded in a group of other kids in their grade, while Gale and I sit with just ourselves.

"How did we miss it all this time?" Gale murmurs as the Panem logo appears on the screen.

"I have no idea," I reply at a whisper. "It's never been like this any other year. We've never been able to get away with not watching."

"It's like the Games aren't important this year," Gale says with a snicker. "But, oh wait. This is Panem. Of course the Games are important."

We both fall silent as soon as we spot Caesar Flickerman's hair, which is a bright green this year. "Welcome back to coverage of the 73rd Hunger Games!" It's in his usual jovial fashion, but there's something missing in his tone.

The other anchor grins before speaking. "Today brought four deaths in the arena. Tributes Janice Cirus from District 7, Silva Bond from District 8, and Otillie Roxen and Bise Fairbain, both from District 5."

Back to Caesar. "Five days have passed since the start of the Games. The initial bloodbath took five lives — Atlas Shire from District 3, Griffin Phox from District 10, both Otto Aldjoy and Keene Overwhill from District 6, and lastly, Wade Ivory from District 8."

"This leaves 15 tributes left," the other anchor concludes. "This has been a slow Games, wouldn't you say, Caesar?"

"I would, indeed," Caesar answers, nodding his bright green head. "I think this is a very strategic Games. All of this year's tributes are very clever and cunning."

"And that makes for an interesting Games," the anchor continues. He's a bit annoying to listen to, when all he does is conclude and ask Caesar.

"With that, let's look at some shots from the Games themselves!" Caesar turns back to the camera from the anchor, smiling.

The camera pans out from the two anchors, perched at their desks, before the screen morphs to a shot of the Games. Gale and I watch a little closer than the other people in the cafeteria, mostly because we know nothing about these Games yet.

This year's arena is a frozen tundra. I remember watching one similar to this years before, but that was the year there were no wood in the arena and everyone froze to death.

But, watching this year's arena, I note all of the wood. Only problem is, most of the trees are coniferous trees, which are much too tall to chop from the ground. I estimate that some of the trees are upwards of fifty feet tall. If Caesar's right about this year's tributes being cunning, they'll have to be to cut down the wood.

The shot zooms into Althea and Tug. Gale nudges my shoulder to watch, and I turn to the screen just as Althea comes crashing out of the coniferous forest. She runs as if someone's behind her, and I watch her go from carefully picking each step, obviously avoiding something, to growing tired and careless.

Being careless is a deathly trait in the Games. As she picks up her pace, her feet land into the deep snow, making it harder to keep running. And when she finally pulls herself free, her feet slam into a sheet of ice, which cracks with her weight.

I hold my breath as she slides into the icy pond. As soon as the tip of her head comes underwater, the ice seals up.

Gale stiffens. The camera quickly turns to the tributes — obviously Careers, those from Districts 1, 2 and 3 — chasing her. But, it doesn't move quite fast enough, and there's a lasting shot of Althea pounding her fists against the glassy ice at her head, before her face freezes, and she is literally frozen to death.

"Oh my god," I breathe, trying to shake the sight of her frozen, alarmed face. The camera tries to focus on the tributes running towards the icy pool, and I wonder if the same fate awaits for them. Whatever Althea fell into, it wasn't a normal pond, with normal ice. The ice made no sound as it cracked when she fell in, and it was able to regenerate and seal up unearthly fast.

The tributes from 1, whose names are Leonis Vipointe and Talon Herriot (and I only know because of the scrolling news bar at the bottom of the screen) are fast approaching the dangerous pond. Leonis, the male tribute, is in front. He's close enough to the pond now to see, just by the glint of the sun on the surface, that it's ice. His eyes grow big for a moment, but he's going too fast to stop, and his foot strikes the top of the ice.

And it doesn't break.

The female tribute, Talon, is a ways behind, but now she's almost at the pond. She's running just as hard, but her gaze is up, and she never sees the ice in front of her. Her feet slam into the ice not once, but twice.

And it still doesn't break.

There's still one last tribute flying through the woods, presumably after Althea. The District 3 tribute, Eta Cronin, isn't as fast as the other Careers, which is easy to tell from how far behind she is. But, with a closer look, she's also injured, and she drags her leg behind her, as it stabs into the ground with every haggard stride.

Gale's said nothing, even though I can almost feel his blood boiling underneath his skin. Eta Cronin is the last to approach the pond.

And when her feet dig into the ice, including her stabby, broken leg, the ice doesn't even slip underneath her feet.

Three Careers crashed over the pond, where Althea died. And not one of them — not even the injured one, who couldn't run right — fell in and froze to death. Nobody who crossed it died, except for the poor girl from District 12.

"One tribute from 12 left," Gale whispers, but it's not really to me.

But, as if he could hear Gale, Tug himself breaks out of the woods at a sprint.

Right towards the pond.

Without skipping a beat, his foot splits into the ice, until his whole body is submerged under water. The camera catches just one expression from him — lips parting, forming an 'O', as he screams, right before the ice closes up, and he is frozen.

Now, five people crossed the pond. Two people died, who, coincidentally or not, were both from District 12. And maybe even more coicindentally, the people who didn't die were from the districts closest to the Capitol. The districts most 'cozied up' to the Capitol. The richest districts. The best districts.

They didn't die.

We did.