I think it's safe to call this a very questioning chapter. You may remember Penny from Chapter One.

Thanks for your reviews! I think I got you all moving :)

Enjoy and don't forget to leave some comments on what you think,

*WentToTheMoonToday

...

Penny Delusion, Capitol citizen

I don't like this. This is my first year watching the Hunger Games, and I don't like it. I have been waiting for this year ever since I learnt what the Hunger Games was. But it's sick.

Why do I find this sick and no others? It's like prettying up a pig for slaughter. The only vegetarian in my family, I am considered to be silly and unreliable, plainly because I'm opposed to eating animals. Does no one see what the Capitol are doing?

I can't exactly change what they are doing; I'm only fourteen. But surely, President Snow has just a speck of morality? Doesn't he think this has been going on for a bit long? The bit that made me realise this was when the Seven boy passed out. All we could see were the cameras trying to nudge in and get a good shot. Who cares if he dies or if he's seriously ill? As long as we get a good shot.

I can tell that my family don't share my views. Dad is drooling over the screen next to me and Mum keeps popping into the kitchen to get snacks for us to gorge on. Why am I different? I was born into the Capitol – surely I should be a duplicate of the next person?

Snow's pathetic speech makes me think about what we are doing to ourselves. These people couldn't help that they were born into a District, but all the same, they are treated as rebels for something their ancestors did. Snow's droning voice cuts out and finally, the Opening Ceremony is over.

The chariots file out of the City Circle and just then, my little sister Andria starts an orchestra of wailing upstairs. Before Mum or Dad can blink, I bound up and volunteer to settle her. Mum looks surprised but she waves me away.

I take on the stairs as I try to work out my tangled feelings. There must be some one else like me. Someone who thinks that the Hunger Games have reached their expiry date. I enter Andria's room. She has pushed her teddy out of her cot and tears are streaming down her chubby face. I murmur to her quietly and tuck her teddy next to her.

The wailing stops almost immediately. She jams her thumb in her mouth as stray hiccups wrack her little body.

"What do you think about the Hunger Games, Andria? Would you like to propose a solution to the question that plagues my mind?" She looks up at me curiously.

"A perfection of means, and confusion of aims, seems to be our main problem." The quote was in a book I read at school recently – it's dated before even the Dark Days.

Andria has lost interest and her eyes rapidly blink before gently nodding off to sleep.