I don't even remember getting onto the train or getting to my room, I think that I was too drunk with power, but next thing I know I am waking up by my leg hair being furiously yanked out by long strips of what look like fly paper. I cringe. Even though it doesn't hurt very much, it's unlike any other pain I've ever felt. I assume that one of the stylists already did my arms because when I go to rub them they are completely hairless and sensitive. And cold. Why was I so cold? And then I realized: I'm naked. Great.

"You can go ahead and put these on." The tall one with tangerine skin tells me as she points to a stack of clothes in the corner. I go over and put on the black yoga pants and white T-shirt, surprised that they fit me perfectly.

I am playing with some pointy medical instruments I probably shouldn't be touching when the door creaks open and a tall, pale girl with white and pink hair wobbled in on heels that are higher than my knees. She wears a knee-length white gown and a knitted shawl over.

"Hello, Clove, I'm Angel. It's very nice to meet you. Oh, and congratulations." She talks in a voice so soothing, so sincere that I cant help but smile even though she is the one dressing me for my death. But right now, that is irrelevant.

"So being from District 2 you probably know all about the sponsors and their importance?" It was only slightly a question. She looks up at me and I notice the way the light shines off of her glitter eyeliner I nod my head, urging her to continue, "So there is no need for me to go over that with you. So I suppose we should go over your outfit for the parade?" she looks up again at me and I nod again. Why am I so excited about this? I am a cold-blooded killer and I'm bursting with joy about what outfit I will be debuted in, "So, the boy from your district," she looks down at her clipboard, "Cato and yourself will be dressed in gold gladiator outfits with plain, gold makeup. How does that sound?" she looks up at me again.

"That sounds great." I force a smile, ashamed of my pleasure in what I am going to be wearing. But, nonetheless I like Angel; she is the only person, other than Cole, that I actually think that I like. So I couldn't help but be a little sad when she neatly stacked all of her papers up on the clipboard and made for the door.

Before she opened the door she turned to me and said; "It was very nice to meet you, Clove." And I could tell she meant it. I couldn't help but smile dumbly at the door after it closed behind her.

4. Golden Gladiator

Angel led me through the glass doors into a room that looked like a large stable in the clouds, each district having its own chariot and a pair of shining, black stallions. I admire myself in the mirror. Though the outfit is very restricting, it looks astonishing on both Cato and myself. Speaking of Cato, I see him appear beside me in the mirror. I look over at him and realize that he is staring over at the District 12 girl, Kathy or something.

Cato looks over at me and sees that I saw him staring. He looks around, but realizing that all of the tributes are busy at work admiring and primping themselves, he leans over and whispers in my ear.

"That Katniss is going to be a problem. But, do you see the way Peter, or whatever his name is, is looking at her? He is in love with her, and we are going to use that to our benefit. He probably knows her better than anyone else. So that's our way in, you make him feel welcome and make him feel like the only way he is going to get out of there is to help us kill her, ok?" I nod, "I already have Glimmer and Marvel in on it too. We'll see who else is worthy too later." He finishes and steps back triumphantly smiling at me.

"Wait, Glimmer and who?" I ask. Confused about what he is talking about.

"Over there," he points to the District 1 tributes in pink fluffy garments and I have to stifle my laugh, "The District 1 tributes." And with his last word, the career pack was distinguished and it was time to load into our chariots.

I see Angel approaching me as we hear the Gamemakers counting down in our earpieces, "just hold on to the chariot with your left hand and leave the other at your side. Feel free to acknowledge the audience, but don't wave. Same for you, Cato." I look over to my right to see Cato nodding at Angel's instructions. When I turned to Angel for further instruction, I notice she is gone and the horses are pulling the District 1 chariot to be embraced by the adoring fans.

Overwhelmed by the screams and shrieks from the crowd, I look over to Cato to see what I should be doing. I notice that he is looking at the crowd with blank, mysterious eyes. It seams to be working for him –shown by his armful of roses- so I followed his lead. And I too have an armful of flowers as all of the tribute's chariots are aligned into a semi-circle around the podium where President Snow, the president of Panem, stands before us welcoming us to the Capitol and honoring our courage and our sacrifice.

As Snow continues to drone on, Cato leans over and whispers into my ear again. "11" is all that he said. And he was right. I look over to the 11 chariot and see a tiny little girl who looks no older than 10 bite her nails while the monster of a boy tribute next to her rubs her shoulders in a fatherly, comforting way that makes my stomach drop because it is a fatherly gesture that I never got from my own father. Noticing that I was still staring I quickly turn and look to Cato who raises an eyebrow in question. I respond with my signature smirk as we both turn back to Snow just as his speech was ending.

The horses pull us back to the room we began in where Angel and Cato's stylist, Arnold start to remove the more restricting parts of our costumes leaving us in black shorts and tank tops. I am startled by the way you could see Cato's abs and biceps through his shirt. All I can say is that I'm glad he's on my side. I am only sixteen and a smidge underfed, to the point that I am very tiny. He could snap me like a twig if need be. I sigh in relief as we follow Angel into the elevator and go up to the second floor.

I cannot believe my eyes when I step into the apartment. It is lush, white and silver. Angel instructs Cato and I to wash up before supper and shows us up to our rooms.

The room looks like a cloud. That's the only way to describe it. The room had a huge wall that was completely mirrors. I go over to look at myself, my eye makeup making me look much older than my years and much prettier than I am naturally. I have to hand it to Angel; I look stunning. I notice that there is something dark on my left eye I rub it off with the back of my hand and notice a bruised eye beginning to form. I sigh, knowing exactly its cause, and lean my arms on the wall and I am about to bow my head down when the wall shifts. Unsure about why it was moving, I go to slide it and I am greeted by a vast closet of white clothes that would make me match perfectly with this apartment and, most likely, Cato.

I pick out simple, fuzzy pajama pants and a white tank top, pull my hair back into a ponytail, slide newly pressed white socks over my bare feet, and begin to head out the door and into the dining room. As soon as I leave the room Cato comes out of his room with white and grey plaid pajama pants and a white T-shirt. I giggle at our coordinated outfits and he smiles and gestures me to lead the way.

I have never seen so much food in one place at one time. There is a huge table with many more seats than there are people to sit there. I start at the head of the table taking in all of the aromas. Salad with chestnuts, pasta with olive sauce and lobster, ratatouille, lamb stew, 16 different types of bread, saltine crackers and spinach dip, roast duck, chicken stuffed with cranberries, rice sautéed with olive oil and lemon, and a giant pot of cheese fondue in the middle of the table. I just now realize that I am just standing there staring at all the food while Cato has already piled his plate sky-high.

District 2 is certainly one of the more fortunate districts of Panem. We have plenty of food to keep our bellies full and to prevent grumbling. I have never seen this much food all for me. I live in a house with two men and all spare food we happen to get goes to them.

I sit down between Angel and our mentor –who has been oddly distant throughout this whole experience-

and across from Cato. I load my plate up with a little bit of each of the dishes intent on tasting them all, but I couldn't decide which I liked best, so I just continued to eat it all.

After we finished our dessert of chocolate covered strawberries and hot cocoa Cato and I headed towards our rooms to rest up for our training tomorrow. As soon as my head hits the cotton candy pillow and my body is enveloped in the fluff of the blankets I closed my eyes and drifted into a deep sleep.