Author's Note: This will be a rather long A/N, so be prepared, and read it all.

I am SO SORRY for the long wait. Summer is hectic, and I vacation a lot with my family, so I am often in places with no wi-fi or even a computer. I was away Monday to Thursday, and I really had no inspiration to write before I went away. I'll try to update more regularly, but no promises until school is in.

I also want to thank those who reviewed. It really inspires me to write, as it's wonderful to hear good things about something you've written.

Also, if I ever mention Foxface's name, the names of the girl and boy from 4, Cato and Clove's surnames and the names of the boys from 10 and 3, those are ALL borrowed from caisha702 and/or be-nice-to-nerds and in the case of Clove's surname, laxgoal31 as well as caisha702. Caisha702 also owns part of the plot line. I don't know how much I will use, so I'll only mention it once.

Also, this chapter definitely demonstrates the T rating. Be prepared.

I also wanted to say, I have a new story up. Do go read it if you haven't.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.

Chapter 5

When I wake up the morning after the tribute parade, I don't know where I am, and I have a horrible headache. I gradually realize that I'm in the Training Centre. I try to remember what happened yesterday.

After the parade, our prep teams swarmed around us. I remember that they were telling us how great we did, but kept shooting dark looks at District 12 and their prep teams and stylists. Then Arina and the other girl on my prep team, Nerissa, who has dark brown skin and green hair, led me to the elevator. The other prep team member, the pink-haired man named Bassenio, who is Arina's husband, stayed with the stylists to discuss our next public outfits.

When we reached the elevator, they left me with Lilia and Marvel, and we rode up.

It was a short ride, as we are on the first floor up. When we got there, the other elevator had already brought Cashmere and Gloss up. They told us to change and meet the in the dining room in five minutes.

When I arrived at my room, I was in shock. It was beautiful. The bed was fluffy and colourful, the curtains silk, the windows making it seem like we were as high as the clouds. Everything was perfect. Spotless. Wonderful.

I then changed into a simple outfit, and left with regret. What a lovely room, I thought. When I win and am mentoring, it will certainly be nice to stay in a room like that.

Once I got to the dining room, I was seated and served a glass of wine. It was helpful to have for the long conversations that discussed which tributes would have the most sponsors, and how that will affect the Games. I drank glass after glass of wine. When I was refused more after four glasses or so, I silently stole the bottle and continued refilling my glass over and over again. When we were finally dismissed, I tried to take the second bottle of wine I had stolen with me, but the Avoxes took it away and I was too drunk to fight back. Then I fell into bed, exhausted and fell asleep immediately.

When I come to that conclusion, I'm furious with myself. How could I have gotten drunk the night before training? What an idiot I am. At least I woke up in my own bed.

I know my headache won't go away any time soon, so I get up. I ignore my headache as I dress in training clothes, and go to breakfast. As I try, and fail, to eat the unappetizing food, my mind wanders. What will it be like meeting the other tributes face-to-face?

Gloss begins talking halfway through the meal. "Okay. So we're going in with a plan. Handle mostly the weapons you're good with, for intimidation. Then go to the weapons you're decent with to get better. If you feel you have learned and intimidated successfully, then go to the survival stations, if you really think them necessary. Got it?"

Me and Marvel nod simultaneously. No one can say no to Gloss.

At quarter to ten, Lilia escorts us to the elevator. When it comes, Lilia comes down with us and leaves us there.

When I get in the circle with the other tributes, I look around. Not everyone is here yet, but almost everyone. I can see from one glance around that the most competition I have is from the other Careers. Thresh, from 11, is pretty good competition also. He is like an ox, big and strong, but he is still underfed. He would be a good Career, if he came from a Career District.

I'm so busy looking at Thresh, I don't realize Clove is beside me until she speaks.

"What are you looking at, One? Got a crush already?"

I nearly jump. God, she is quiet.

"Just assessing the competition. You? Trying to kill me before the Games even start?"

She smiles. I originally thought she was to small for a Career, but from looking at her, she is definitely trained. I can tell by the way she moves.

"Just wanted to introduce myself. Clove Jacia." She reaches out to shake my hand.

We shake hands. "Glimmer Rose." I reply.

Then her district partner, Cato, comes up behind her. "Making new friends?"

"Just introducing myself. Glimmer, this is Cato Marcelli, my district partner."

We shake hands. Just then, Katniss and Peeta walk in, wearing matching outfits. What's with that? So far, they have been presented as friends. They were holding hands during the parade, someone said at some point. And now matching clothes. What possible strategy could that be?

We reform the circle as Atala, the trainer, explains the training schedule. I glance at Katniss. I notice that while she is short and thin, she has a healthy body. She isn't starving, unlike most from the poor Districts. There's something about her that makes her seem dangerous to me. I can easily tell that she fears the Games- but she seems- hopeful. Like she thinks she actually win.

I look forward to proving her wrong.

When Atala stops talking, I head immediately to the swords. I grab a narrow- bladed, lightweight one. That's what I do best.

While I'm swirling around my head, in a graceful sequence that both beautiful and deadly, I realize that many tributes are looking at me. I take advantage of that. The closest dummy to me gets to feel the impact of the final movement in the sequence. In one fluid motion, I slice off both of its arms and through its chest. The top half of the dummy falls to the ground with a thud. I hear one girl- I don't know who- start to cry, and I smile as I step away from my handiwork.

Intimidation? Check.

I decide to go watch my fellow Careers at work. When I see Clove at the knife-throwing station, I go to watch. I'm just in time to watch her throw two knifes within seconds of each other. The first lands on the exact centre of the target, and the second buries itself in the handle of the first knife. I'm surprised. Clove is good.

"Knife throwing?" I ask as I approach her. "That's never been my strong suit. But you're really good."

She smiles. "You mean I kick ass?"

"Totally." I reply with a grin.

"I know. What are you good at, princess?"

"You didn't see my sword display? That's what I kick ass at."

"I didn't. Did you see Cato's spears?"
"That's his forte?"

"No- his is swords. But you beat him there, so he sharpened his spear skills."

"I see."

"Go away- you're a distraction."

I grin, and leave her to throw knives in peace. Then I look around and decide what to do next.

I decide to try a bit of archery. It's not my strong suit, but I'm decent. I shoot again and again, and by the end I've gotten a few bulls-eyes.

Then I notice the Gamemakers. They've been wandering around for a while, but the one closest to me, a man around twenty-five is staring at me in a rather disturbing way. I doubt he even noticed my bad archery.

I turn on my heel and walk over to the nearest station, hand-to-hand combat, and practice with an available assistant.

The morning passes quickly, and all to soon it's lunchtime. We all eat lunch together in a room off the training room. All of us Careers sit around one table, and talk. The talk is mostly boring, for a while. Marvel and the boy from 4, Arturo, can only talk about how wonderful their respective districts are.

But then conversation turns to something more interesting- but awful. Killing.

It's funny, but even after years of training, I've never really liked the idea of ending a life. To me, even though I'm a Career, I don't want to kill. But I'm doing this for my mother. I'll have to kill.

Kill. The first time I ever killed a person-

Don't think about that! You can't afford to break down.

I pull myself back to the present. When I realize that everyone at the table is staring at me, I know I should be going red from embarrassment. But I don't. My face never goes red.

"What?" I ask. Varia, the girl from 4, rolls her sea-green eyes.

"I said," she says, speaking slowly, "how many people have you killed?"

Breathe, breathe...

When I can trust myself to speak, I glare at Varia. "Two." I don't say anything else.

Varia opens her mouth to speak, but before she can, it's the end of lunch. She gives me a look that obviously says 'We'll discuss this later.'

I'm glad. I have time to recover.

After a long day of training, dinner, and strategy discussions, I'm sent to bed. When I get there, I shower, change into a nightgown, and climb in bed. When I lie down and turn off the light, I realize after about five seconds that I'm never going to sleep if I don't take some of those high-tech medicines for sleeping that they have in the Capitol. Cashmere said she uses them.

As I'm walking to the door, I realize the mentors are still up. I pause for a moment, and hear one word. Kill.

With no one here to see me, I break down. I collapse to the floor as the memory takes over. The memory of my first kill.

It's one of those rare cold days. The sun supposedly always shines here, according to a quote. But we do have rainy days occasionally.

I stand outside the Training Centre. I'm only eight years old, but I have a knife in my hand, and I'm ready to find him. Him. The man who thought that I would be easy prey, who attacked me outside the home of my father, to take me behind closed doors and do horrific thing to me. Things I could barely dream of at that age. I was young but already beautiful. That was two years ago. Now he is out of jail, and mine to kill.

I walk down the steps. I can see him on the other side of the street. As I approach, he turns and begins to walk.

I follow him down street after street. He is totally oblivious to being stalked by a little girl with a knife. Well, he won't be for long. Soon his blood would stain my white dress, and the blade of my knife would drip with it. I smile at the thought of his body at my feet.

When he reaches what I assume is his house, he goes inside. I run up the path, and catch the door before it swings shut.

I slam it behind me, and he swings around. He recognizes me, and smiles. "Back for more?"

I smile. "No. I'm here to get your blood on my knife."

His face goes white, and his smile disappears. He fears me. Good. At least he knows I'm dangerous.

I take a step forward, and he tries to get past me to the door, running and trying to shove me aside. My knife flies down and cuts off two of his fingers that are resting on the door handle.

He gasps at the sight of two of his fingers rolling on the floor. There is fear in his eyes as he looks at me.

I smile, and slowly corner him. When he tries to escape, I open a gash on his face. Blood- beautiful, glorious blood- streams down his face, and onto his obviously expensive shirt.

I grab him by the collar, and drag him to the living room. At the slightest resistance, I open another cut.

I force him to the ground, and, while pinning him down, slice open his shirt with one cut. Then, with my knife, I write GR WAS HERE on his chest.

He groans in pain. I silence him by cutting out his tongue. Then the final step. I raise my arm, and bring it down. The knife is in his heart. The light goes out of his eyes, and his whole body goes still.

I get up, smiling at the sight of my bloodstained dress. I wipe my knife on the rug, and turn to leave. Then I hear a scream. I whirl around.

A young woman is standing there. She looks like she's about to faint. I throw my knife, and instead of it hitting her arm, like it was supposed to, it buries itself in her heart. She falls to the ground, dead. I walk over and pull out the knife, pain in my chest. I never wanted to kill her. But there's no point in leaving evidence.

It took the police a week to make the connection. I still bear the scars from the whipping I got.

The memory of that day still haunts me. I was bloodthirsty- for that mans blood. I never intended to kill that woman. She was an innocent.

And so are the others that will be in the Arena with me.