I dream of home. The misty mornings, my mother's pancakes and rolls, playing with Trin down by the power lines when we were young, working in the stations when we were older. District 5 citizens started proper work the day they turned eighteen, converting energy into electricity with motors in the power stations, but the younger teenagers were still employed for the little jobs. The energy demand of the Capitol and other districts was so high, that we were always on our feet to keep Panem running.

When Nutellie was born, I remember the joy it brought to us, but the quiet trepidation it brought to everyone else. Children weren't rare, and meant more space and food used up. We were lucky, my mother and I. We shared a combo house with only one other family, and a decrepit old-lady named Mrs Flick. Others weren't as fortunate. Population was so high that most lived in cramped houses and blocks, like Daniel and his three siblings and parents. The richest lived alone. The rest had to learn to get along.

When my father died, after we'd travelled to the Justice Building and received his will, belongings and certificate of work commemoration, they relocated us from the house we shared with Trin, her family, Kane and his grandmother, Mr and Mrs Spark and their kids, into the beautiful apartment block downtown. That was five years ago. They put us there to help recover. Apparently miserable workers didn't work effectively enough.

Kane and Daniel had been great, bringing us food and gifts they'd managed to scrounge. Trin and her mother offered us company, which was more valuable to us than anything.

I missed them.

Daniel, his tawny hair and brown eyes like mine, the beautiful boy who nearly everyone in school adored, girls falling at his feet. Kane, the dark-skinned and buff rebel, who worked nonstop to keep his grandmother going.

I loved them to death, me and Trin alike. She had always had a crush on Kane, but never said anything at all. One of the only consolations I'll have when I go into the arena is that they might find love.

I dream of them all. Nutellie, Trin, Daniel, Kane, my mother, Mrs Flick, my father...

'Good morning!' Janine calls from the other side of the door, 'we've got a big day ahead of us!'

My eyes crack open. My tongue feels like a rock in my mouth, and my lips are dry and sore. My eyes are red and itchy from crying in my sleep, and my pillow is damp.

Get up, I tell myself. I grudgingly obey.

Shower.

I do, using the Jasmine soap again.

Clean your teeth.

Wash you face.

Get dressed, I pick out a muslin white dress, the sleeves coming down to my wrists and the neckline, not plunging exactly, but enough to make me feel free. Which, ironically, is exactly the opposite of what I am.

Lace up my brown ankle boots, brush my hair, and time for breakfast.

I make my way to the dining car, watching the world outside. The bare landscape that surrounds 5 is gone, to be replaced with rocky fields and mountains looming before us. The sky is a steely grey, not a cloud in sight.

Angrem is alone at the table, rifling through a notebook with a slightly grim expression on his face. He looks up when I enter and smiles.

'Good morning Angelie,' he offers me a chair and I take it. The table is laden with food, iced fruit in silver bowls, bread rolls still warm in baskets, croissants, pastries, large pots of coffee and something pinky brown that smells sweet and sensuous, orange juice in crystal glasses, just about anything you could name. I don't wait to be asked. I fill my plate with a bit of everything and gorge myself. Through stuffing my face, I hear Angrem chuckle.

Wade and Janine join us, and start to eat. When I've eaten so much I feel like my stomach is about to split, I lean back in my chair and see Angrem watching me.

'As your mentor,' he says, which surprises me a little before I shake myself. Of course he's our mentor, who else would he be. 'I'm going to give you some advice. To survive in these games, you'll have to think. It's all well and good to grab a weapon and kill any living thing you come across, but the one weapon that is indispensable to your survival is the one you carry everywhere,' he taps his temple with a finger. Me and Wade nod silently.

Angrem pours us both a mug of the pinky brown liquid.

'Drink this, it's good. Now, when it comes to sponsors-'

'What is it?' Wade asks. It strikes me that it's the first time I've ever heard him speak. I always saw him as a timid fourteen year-old, someone I sometimes glimpsed at school, but who never associated with me or my friends or people in general.

'Hot chocolate,' Janine says, her lips twitching a little.

I wrap my hands around the warm mug and take a sip. It's beautifully sweet and mellow and slightly bitter at the same time, and I don't do anything until I've drained my mug right to the dregs of cocoa at the bottom. I've never tried chocolate before, and I'm glad I have before I die. Which seems to be sooner than I'd hoped...

'As I was saying, sponsors are your lifeline in the games. They can supply you with something that could be the difference between life and death.' He says the two words harshly.

Me and Wade exchange a glance, but look quickly away.

'You'll have to show them you're a prime contender, someone to be reckoned with,' Angrem says, picking up a knife and buttering a slice of toast. Suddenly, he jabs it at me.

'You. What's your strength?'

'I-' I think quickly. What are my strengths? What am I good at? Well that's easy-

'Darts,' I say reflexively. It's true, target hitting was what my father and I did in our spare time. 'But I don't see how that's going to help-'

'Here,' Angrem tosses the knife to me. I catch it and study it; a simple, silver butter-knife, slick with jam.

'Throw it.'

Janine gives a little squeal of indignation but I don't hesitate.

As fast as I can, I whirl in my chair to my feet, raise the knife over my head and chuck it. It spins in midair and hits the dead centre of a wood panel.

'Good, good.' Angrem seems pleased, 'targets, darts, archery, especially knife throwing seem to be your thing. You?' He looks at Wade, who looks slightly abashed and, if possible, annoyed.

'I dunno,' he says gruffly, shrugging his thin shoulders.

'Javelin,' I say without thinking. He cuts me a look, but I continue, 'he won the school tournament three years in a row. And he can run for ages.'

'So long distance and javelin, very nice,' Angrem smiles slyly, 'and you two seem to have some brains in your skulls at least. That's good, I can work with that.'

Outside, the windows go dark. The lamps in the car flicker on after a split second.

'Nothing to worry about,' Janine chimes after she sees our shocked faces, 'we're under the mountain. When we come out the other side, we'll be in the Capitol.'

The Capitol. The name strikes fear and excitement in my heart.

'Quickly then,' Angrem leans forward and stares at us with his hard eyes, 'do NOT tell anyone what you can do. Secrecy and the element of surprise is vital for your survival. Do you understand.'

I feel slightly cold at the look he's giving me.

'Yes.'

'Fantastic. Now when we get there you will be turned right over to your stylists who will prepare you for this evening. Trust them- they're good people, and will help you look the best you can.'

Stylists to make us look pretty. It made sense- the best-looking tributes did usually get the most sponsors and stayed alive the longest as a result- but it didn't mean I was particularly thrilled about it. Even now I'm starting to feel the slight stiffness in my head and limbs that means stage fright.

Suddenly the lamps switch off and the window light up as we come out of the mountain. I gasp, stumbling from my chair to the window, gaping at the outside world. Wade appears beside me, and together we watch the Capitol; a true beauty of glittering towers, glass buildings and snowy White mansions, a glorious blue river running through it. As our train swerves along the tracks into the city, I see lush green gardens and people walking together with different coloured clothes and hair. Screens flash at every corner, huge things that obviously require a great deal of power, showing adverts for different things; toothpaste, hair products, then:

Watch the 32nd Annual Hunger Games this year! Head Gamemaker Elefun Bardweather promises, "it will be a show you'll never forget!"

I swallow against the lump in my throat. I certainly won't ever forget it.

The train slides noiselessly into a modern train station and starts to slow. Outside our window, hundreds of Capitol people have come to greet us, whistling and cheering.

I look at Wade and he looks at me.

Make them love you.

I turn to the window, put on my most winning smile and start to wave.