Hello! I'm back! I would really appreciate some constructive critisicm in the form of a review. But not plain critisicm that would hurty feelings. (No, just kidding, I'm not a pansy)

But seriously, the more reviews, the faster I update.

CLOVE POV

"Welcome!" Karma greeted as we boarded the train. "This is the Tribute Train, which will bring you to the Capitol. I think you'll like it there!"

I started at her for a moment, wondering how we could live so close to them and be so different. I was wearing a orange silk dress, the only dress I own, paired with small black sandals and braided hair. Karma was sporting a long black dress that stuck up around her like a garbage bag full of air, with an afro of lavender hair, platform heels and neon purple nails. I couldn't see an inch of skin not covered with make up. I would like to find at least one person from the Capitol that looks even remotely close to anybody from a district.

"Thank you," Cato answered for both of us, and I nodded. "If it's alright with you, we'd like to go to our rooms."

Karma shook her head. "You can't! Not yet! You have to meet your mentors!"

As she said this, last year's winner came out, accompanied by the last male winner from District Two.

My mentor would be Maple Hoyle. She was last year's winner, killing a total of twelve people. She was off from the first moment, killing four people in the first two minutes. She was scarily deadly, and I was scared of her myself. Until she took my hand and smiled, whispering, "We'll escape that beast as soon as we can."

I smiled and whispered back, "Thank God."

She chuckled and stood back so Cato's mentor could step up. And he definitely stepped up.

Titan Jakobs lumbered forward, a gigantic man, nineteen years of age. He entered the Games at age sixteen, and was the obvious tribute to root for, if you were placing a bet it was on him. Nobody touched him, but he only killed three people. In the interviews after the game he said he liked to see the others think they stood a chance.

As he stepped forward, I stepped back. He said no reassuring words to Cato or I unlike Maple, who smiled at both of us and patted us both on the shoulders. He just stood there, being gigantic.

Maple seemed to sense my fear and said, "If you want to go to your rooms now, you can. Titan and I won't keep you waiting any longer."

Upon hearing that, I grabbed Cato and practically dragged him towards the car that held the rooms. Not even looking to see whose room we were entering, I opened a door and pushed Cato in.

He stumbled forward and quickly stood straight, looking at me with a smirk. "I don't know if you got out of there fast enough."

I rolled my eyes and looked around. There was a giant bed, with a soft looking comforter that I could sleep in forever and countless pillows. Across from the bed was a large wooden stand, with a TV perched on it. In the corner was a black dresser, matching the color of the bed, and probably filled to the brim with Capitol clothes.

Without thinking twice I hopped onto the bed and flipped the TV on, wanting to forget. But that didn't work. On the screen was all of the tributes being selected.

It started with One, where a beautiful girl was chosen. Glimmer was her name, her district partner was a boy that looked a little to arrogant for my taste named Marvel.

Next was our district, and there was Karma looking like an idiot, dropping the paper and having to pick another. There's me, walking stiffly to the stage, looking confident, but I could see my own nervousness. Then Darren was chosen, and I realized how scared he looked as he walked to join me, and how relieved he was when young men began to volunteer.

There was Cato. Pushing through the crowd, not bothering to see who he was pushing out of the way. He shouted, and I stiffened up, both on the screen and on the bed. At the same time Cato joined me on the stage, he took a seat next to me on the bed. He knew I didn't want to he here, I didn't want either of us to be here. He took my hand as we shook on stage.

Then, just like that, we were in District Three and a small boy and even smaller girl were chosen, with no volunteers.

In District Four there was two unusually non-deadly looking tributes, but when I looked into the girl's eyes, I saw a hint of fire. She was a fighter playing prey. My instructor had taught me the strategy, but I neither of us liked it. He thought I was too intimidating and I didn't want to seem weak. But this girl pulled it off perfectly, giving Cato a false sense of security. He knew that the tributes from Four are Careers, with them seeming so innocent and harmless he thought he had less competition. I didn't mention it though, not yet.

In Five we saw a wiry girl, who instantly reminded me of a fox. She looked stealthy and good. I don't know why, but as soon as I saw her I was on my guard. The male tribute was nothing to note.

There was nobody to watch out for in Six, Seven, or Eight.

Ten had a crippled boy, but nothing other than that.

It wasn't until we got to Eleven I really paid attention. The smallest girl I have ever seen is called, Rue was her name, and walks to the stage, and I'm surprised by her grace. She doesn't look afraid. She doesn't even look nervous. It's as if she has already accepted her fate but is going out fighting. I bit my lip. Another twelve year old selected, but this time no volunteers came to save her. After that a monstrous boy was picked, going by the name of Thresh. He was gigantic, bigger than Cato, but not by much. Anybody bigger than Cato is gigantic in my book. Cato is six feet and two inches tall, this guy put that to shame. When he stood next to Rue, I wanted to laugh at the difference. It was like a lion and a mouse, except I'm going to fight them both.

I thought that there would be no more note-worthy tributes because the only district left was Twelve. Twelve is usually just two hungry kids who have never touched a weapon in their life, usually battling hunger rather than other people. Boy, I was wrong.

Their Capitol escort is almost as ridiculous as ours. Effie, I think her name is. Anyways, she pulled out the first name and read it loudly, clearly. "Primrose Everdeen!"

I didn't know why a certain hush swept over the crowd until I saw a twelve year old emerge from the crowd.

I frowned. Why are there so many young children being selected this year?

My focus was back on the TV when I heard a scream. "Prim!" It was a strangled sob almost, it sounded so scared and broken. "Prim!"

Then the source of the voice was found. A girl looking about my age pushed her way through, and was immediately barricaded by Peacekeepers. Primrose turned and shook her head.

The older girl managed to push aside the Peacekeepers and shouted, now in a clear but desperate voice, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

Effie was obviously surprised, as was the rest of the crowd. They all seemed to be shocked–it's not often a volunteer comes from an outer district–until the small girl screamed. "No! Katniss, no!"

That shocked everybody out of the daze they seemed to be in. A boy, obviously a close friend to the two seemed to come out of nowhere and picked up Primrose, dropping her over his shoulder. He whispered something to the older girl–Katniss–what looked like, "Up you go, Catnip."

Then he disappeared back into the crowd, taking Primrose with him, her screaming the entire way.

Katniss ascended the stairs, breathing hard. The daze that had shaken the crowd seemed to have swept to her, it looked like she didn't know who or what she was.

Effie smiled sweetly at her. "Looks like you're District Twelve's first volunteer! Come on, tell us your name."

"Katniss Everdeen," She whispered into the microphone, staring off into the crowd.

It made sense now. She was Primrose's sister, her family dedication went father than all of the others. Now that I think of it, Darren has an older brother that didn't come close to volunteering. I guess you can only trust someone so much until their loyalty runs out.

"Everdeen?" Effie questioned. "I bet my hat that was your sister."

"Yes," Katniss murmured, staring out into the crowd.

"Well everyone, meet your female tribute!" Effie exclaimed, beginning to clap. I expected everyone else to clap along with her, but nobody did. Instead, they all pressed three fingers to their lips and held them out.

Effie dismissed that as a cute tradition then continued with the Reaping.

"Peeta Mellark!" She announced, her smile returning, and she seemed to get back in rhythm.

A shocked boy was on the stage now. He looked strong, not like the usual tributes who were skin and bones. He had muscles, broad shoulders, and actual weight. He must be from one of the richer families in town.

Now that I look at Katniss, I realize that she has some meat on her. There's no way she's from a rich family, though. Her dress is old, worn out. Her hair is perfectly done, but obviously never been worn that way. How does she get food?

As they shook hands, I saw a certain awkward air around them, as if they already knew each other. It was possible of course, but the way they acted seemed strange to me.

I dismissed those thoughts as the announcer ended the program, and wished us a happy Hunger Games.

That made my anger boil over. How dare he wish us a happy Hunger Games? How on earth are we supposed to me happy about twenty three teenagers' inevitable deaths?

In a fit of rage I launched the remote at the TV, screaming. My rage was short lived, because as soon as the screen shattered I was crying, sobbing my eyes out into Cato's shirt. He was stroking my back, whispering comforting words, trying to calm me but failing miserably. He just had to let it run its course, there was no way he could stop it.

After any amount of time passed I had stopped, and was drowsily tracing lines in Cato's back, lazily kicking my shoe's off so I could fall asleep. And I did fall asleep, not before I heard Cato whisper, "I think I love you."

CATO POV

She was asleep. She had to be. She had just sobbed her eyes out, that's usually followed by her sleeping for eight to fifteen hours. I've comforted her many times, I know what to expect. I know her like I know my training spear.

So when she was breathing at a regular pace and her eyes were closed, I knew she must be sleeping. This was the time for me to admit to her what I've been too afraid to admit to myself. If one of us is going to die, I might as well tell her.

"I think I love you."

She stirred, but didn't open her eyes. I sighed in relief, happy that she hadn't heard.

No, I wasn't happy, that was the anxiety leaving me. I didn't know how she would react to my confession. I mean, she's Clove, she doesn't do that lovey-dovey stuff.

So when she abruptly sat up, all of that returned and I practically slapped myself. I was such an idiot. Now our last days together will be awkward and I won't talk to her and she'll avoid me. That's the last thing I wanted to come out of this. If anything, I wanted the exact opposite.

As she sat up, my father's words returned to me. Love is just a distraction, he had said, and now that I might possibly die, I whispered to myself, "Screw him."

"Did you hear what I just said?" I asked calmly, looking into her eyes.

She nodded. "Unless it was a dream. A big, fantastic, wonderful dream."

"All of those adjectives make me feel like you feel the same way," I said, my signature smirk on my face.

"What if I do?" She questioned slyly, matching my smirk. She was leaning closer to me, close enough so that I would be able to reach out and kiss her.

Instead I leaned in almost impossibly closer. "Oh, I think I know how you feel."

In the next second, her lips were on mine, and I was in the clouds. I felt weightless, on top of the world. Nothing could bring me down, well, nothing until I felt the pressure of her lips leaving mine.

She sat back, smiling now. "Well, that's my answer. I hope it's the right one."

Her smile seemed to be contagious, because it spread to my face not a second later. "I definitely think that's the right answer."