There was movement after that first day in training. We no longer sat in a huddled group together, awaiting the inevitable slaughter like captured animals. I trained with Ronen in weapons, honing my skills in knife throwing and learning how to handle a sword. The others took my lead after what I had told them, spreading out in the training arena and learning whatever they could. It wasn't apparent at first, but as the days went by I realized that the others, the captured tributes...They saw me as their leader. I had become their beacon of hope and it wasn't long before the Careers picked up on this as well. We had obtained larger targets for ourselves, but that didn't matter because we had learned to fight. We weren't going to lay down and die for their enjoyment. Not anymore.

However, only four days of training could prepare you for so much. Looking out over the others on the last day of training I knew that we weren't ready, but we had to be. We had no choice. Who else was going to protect us from the Games? Our only protection came from each other. The Gamemakers' evaluations were only so many hours away and then it was only a day or two until the Games. To hell with the pregame interviews and the false host, Ceaser Flickerman. Those were just for Panem's show and Flickerman? He was just a replica of the character, held up by the puppet strings controlled by the faux President Snow. The real focus was on surviving the arena and finding a way out before we were all killed.

There was a tight sound of a bow being drawn and Clayton Burrow, the tall blond youth who doubted our survival, released an arrow from beside me. The arrow zipped across the thirty yard space of room, barely making more than a whistling, and lodged itself directly into the heart of a dummy. Half the shaft was buried and I imagined if someone looked at the back of the dummy they would see the point of the arrow head.

I raised an eyebrow. "Impressive."

Without waiting for a response I sent three knives after the arrow. They met the dummy with matching thuds, hitting the head, neck, and heart. The youth's arrow was split down the middle and my knife was buried to the hilt. A lucky shot, but one that worked to my advantage. I could feel the stares of the Careers burning holes into my back, but I ignored them, working to keep my hardened stare on the dead dummy. It was just a mask, but they didn't know that. Even Ronen believed that I had changed and had told Emmet of my newly gained skills. Lies. So many lies.

"They're wondering what we should do during the evaluations." Clayton murmured, drawing back his bow for a second time.

I waited until his arrow had lodged itself in the forehead of a second dummy. "We play it safe." I said. "Anything you're good at keep it to yourself. We can't let the Careers know that we might have a chance, because then they'll be that much stronger coming after us. Keep the scores low and they'll underestimate us."

I threw another knife, making sure that it went just off target and clattered against the wall. The sound of snickering drifted to us from behind where a group of Careers had stopped to watch and I allowed a small smirk to pull at my lips. Good. Let them believe that this was who I was. It would make it all that easier to trick them in the arena. I recognized Justin's familiar laugh in the group and forced myself not to turn around so my false appearance wouldn't crumble. It always did when I looked at him, because even though I knew he was acting it still felt like I had lost my brother.

"What about when we're in the games?" Clayton questioned, snapping me out of my dark trance. "What are we going to do then? Kill them?"

"We'll find a place to meet. Somewhere high up if possible and depending on what the arena will be like. If the Careers can't find us, eventually they will kill each other."

Briefly my gaze flicked over to Ronen training with a sword when I said this and I felt an unwanted pang of guilt coil in my gut. I shouldn't feel that way about him. He didn't belong with us, in our world, and I couldn't save him. I didn't want to. Lies again. whispered the grating voice of my conscience in the back of my head. Grabbing another set of knives from the nearby rack I sent them into the chests of three dummies, releasing my frustrations in the wonderful, exhilarating act.

It was Clayton's turn to raise an eyebrow. "What happened to playing it safe?"

"I slipped." I replied, frowning. "Go tell the others the plan and keep things quiet. They're always watching."

I remained quiet that night, never letting the others know what I had planned for the evaluations the next day and always avoiding their questions. I ignored Emmet completely, saving anything nice for Prema's superficial twittering about my interview dress. Ronen, I couldn't look at him and I couldn't understand why. I knew he looked at me, his dark gaze making me flush until gradually I felt that my face was blazing. The orange man merely sat in silence, keeping his attentions locked on the food in front of him which was fine by me. I never really enjoyed his presence anyway.

The dinner was barely finished when I abruptly got up and walked away before I could hear anymore aggravating comments from Emmet on my scowling. Not like he didn't manage to slide one in just as I was leaving the room. "Make sure to give the gamemakers a smile, Sweetie. We don't want you to scare them away."

My scowl deepened and I had the sudden urge to turn around and throw something at him. I could almost feel the satisfaction it would bring to see Emmet's perfectly combed head get plastered with a nearby vase. Or perhaps I could send a knife into a wall just inches away. It wouldn't be hard to do and he was always trying to get me to talk about my skills. My hand was itching to do just that and was already moving towards a set of cutlery when I felt the tiniest of shocks lace up my arm, rendering me immobile. There was a whirring as a camera above zoomed in on me and my teeth clenched with another, more powerful shock that made me see spots. Behave, Emma Price. It was like the faux President Snow was in the room, his thumb hovering over the bracelet's activation code.

Clenching my fists, I stiffly walked away to my rooms, feeling the effects of the bolts of electricity tighten my muscles. My hand twitched as I reached for the door knob and I watched it for a moment, sinking back into the depths of surrealism. Why was I hear? I was once a normal person, getting ready to start a new life and now I was being shocked to keep from throwing knives at people. It had barely been a week since my capture and already I no longer felt like I was the same person.

"I know what you're doing." I didn't jump at the sudden sound of Ronen's voice behind me. It wasn't a surprise that he had followed me to my rooms. He had done it ever since the first night we were on the balcony. Ronen slowly came up beside me and pressed a hand to my trembling one still on the door knob. "You want us to believe that you still won't stand a chance in the arena, that you'll be the first to go. But guess what? I don't believe in your little act, Darling." He paused and I felt his warm body stiffen beside me. "Just promise me one thing."

I hesitated, afraid my voice was going to croak. "What do you want?"

"When we're in the arena...Don't be the one to kill me." His hand slid away and he was gone, leaving me shivering in his absence. He believed I could kill him. What had I turned into?

"Emma Price."

The speaker above the door sounded cold when it called out my name for evaluations. Everyone else had already gone in while I waited for the hours to pass by. Inside I struggled with what I was going to do once my name was called. I contemplated not going in at all and making them come get me. There was even the possibility that I would go in and do whatever I could to escape. When my name was actually called I did neither, getting up automatically and moving towards the door with robotic motions.

The door slid shut the moment I stepped past it and the small elevator I had entered rose above where the training room was supposedly located. Confused, I watched as the door to the elevator rotated around the circular walls until it stopped on the opposite side and the elevator came to a jarring halt. A pleasant sounding beep announced our landing and the door slid open to a brightly lit room that initially blinded me. Shielding my eyes against the sudden light, I squinted into the room and made out the tall silhouette of a man staring out a large window that made up the opposite wall. There was a shove to my back and I realized that a white clad Panem soldier had accompanied me to the room and was now forcing me to enter it. Of course. Why would they ever leave me alone?

I took several steps into the room and stood there, allowing my eyes to adjust. It didn't take long before the room came into focus and the image of the powerful Capitol city filled the entire expanse of window. Sunlight was reflected off of countless spires and skyscrapers rising far into the distance, the light breaking into a multitude of glittering specks across the room. It was beautiful and stunning and was completely overshadowed by the man who stood before me, delicately sipping a crystal flute of Champagne.

"You are causing trouble for me, Emma Price." The faux President Snow said, not even bothering to turn around from the window. It was immediately apparent that I had been expected for a long time. "You did not think I would know what you were doing, but I do and let me assure you...I am not pleased."

I glared, not even giving 'playing the innocent card' a second thought. I wasn't going to play into his little games. Not when so many lives were at stake. "What did you expect? You're forcing us into a game where we either kill or be killed and you thought that we would accept this?"

The man let out a soft chuckle that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. "Oh no, Dear Emma." he said. "No, no, no, no. I wanted you to fight. What fun would it be if you were easy to get rid of, hmm?" he gestured out the window. "They want to be entertained, but what you are doing is entirely different. You are making the others like yourself stronger, bringing them together to fight back, and turning them into a problem for my Careers. You have given them hope, Emma and that cannot happen."

"What are you going to do then?" I questioned nastily. "Kill me?"

He didn't answer, but he didn't need to as a hologram suddenly appeared in front of me. At first I couldn't comprehend what I was seeing and only watched the image play out like a little movie. My mom was sitting on the couch in our living room, a phone pressed against her ear as our TV broadcasted the CNN news channel. I saw my Dad walk in from an invisible door way and sit beside her, offering her a cup of tea which she refused. My heart thudded in my chest and I felt the emotions of the pass week threaten to overwhelm me. This was real time. They were really there.

"I just want to know why you haven't found them yet." I started as my Mom's voice permeated the room. "It's been nearly a week since they've been taken...Please, I want my children to come home." she whispered the last part and I had to draw closer to hear her. "I want them to be safe again."

"There are other ways of repressing the problem you have caused." The faux President Snow had come up behind the hologram and he stood over my parents like the angel of death. "Think of your parents, Emma. Think of what could happen to them should you continue down this path of yours."

As hard I as I tried, I couldn't keep the tears from falling and I hung my head in defeat, listening to the distant sounds of my Mother and Father who were so far away. The man approached me and I felt his papery hand rest heavily on my shoulder before forcefully lifting my face towards him. His eyes were life fire and his expression reminded me of an oncoming storm.

"Do not attempt anything." he warned icily. "I know of your brother and I promise you that if anything goes wrong I will have something very special planned for his death."

I bristled at the mention of my brother and fought against him, completely disregarding his warning. "You keep Justin out of this. If you ever touch him you will never be able to hide from me."

Wrestling free from his grip, I managed to clip him on his chin with my fist before I felt the searing pain of the bracelet's electric current scream through my body. I collapsed, writhing on the floor with the faux President Snow angrily rubbing his bruising jaw line above me. His glass had fallen to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces, and the sickly sweet champagne soaked into the floor and into the back of my training uniform. Within moments I felt the sharp pinch of a needle in my neck and the world faded to black with the faux President Snow's stormy face being the last image I saw.