Emily Scott, 17, District 1

I secure the belt of knives around my waist, and nod to the trainer, a curved knife poised in my hand. I bend my knees as the trainer flicks the switch an I am plunged into darkness.

The darkness lasts only for a millisecond, then I am plunged into a hologram of a cornucopia, surrounded by 6 other holographic "tributes". They pulse, one, two, three and begin to move towards me weapons raised.

As I have been taught, I go for the weakest first; a small boy holding aloft a wobbling sword. I flick a knife towards his neck. The hologram holds up his left hand "instinctively" to protect himself and my knife hits his wrist. It falls to the ground in a pool of blood. I shiver. I know it's not real, but it's horrible that this sort of innocent child could be plunged into the horror of the games.

In the split second whilst I am thinking about this a tribute grabs me from be hind. It's cutting off my air supply. I can feel from it's body pressed against that it's male, so I instinctively flick up the heel of my boot to hit him in the crotch. As he releases me, I pull out a long knife, swing round and slice off his head. Another tribute, female this time, approaches me from the left. Using the same knife, I ram it into her throat.

Over by the cornucopia, the two remaining tributes stand. One is bending down to fetch supplies. The other is raising a axe to decapitate the first. I haul a knife into the back of the second.

Big mistake.

The first hologram is nearly flattened by the one I just killed. She lets out a yelp of surprise, and spots me. As she stand up, I curse under my breath. She's huge.

She lets loose an arrow, and it hits my leg. It flairs with pain, but I know it's not real. I know that when I finish the hologram, it will go away. I head towards the forest. That's where I'm most happy.

The hologram girl follows me. She swings a sword at me and I raise a knife to deflect it. Still poised to attack, we pause. A roaring fills our ears. I swivel.

Okay, my greatest weakness? I can't actually swim. The wave crashes over me and I am forced to my knees. The water is filling up my lungs. I curl up on the soil as my vision blacks out.

But then, of course, it stops, as I knew it would. My trainer, along with my best friend Amelia Adams, her black hair tucked behind her ears. They help me sit up as my lungs convulse, desperately trying to get rid of water that was never there.

"What is up with you?" asks my (ever sympathetic) partner in crime, Amelia, cuffing me on the shoulder that my nose hits my knees. "You haven't died in a holo for years!" She stands up, apparently assured that I am fine. "I gotta go change. See you at home before the reaping?"

I nod weakly. She rolls her eyes, tosses her axe at the weapons rack where it secures itself on the hook (still haven't worked out how she does that) and struts out.

My trainer turns to me. " You are good, you know, except the whole "faints at the sight of water thing"," he tells me (Tell me about it- I'm just surrounded by understanding people.) "We haven't got any 18 year old girls who are planning to volunteer each year, and Amelia wants to wait to next when she's at her physical prime. Would you volunteer?"

I stiffen. I have never even considered volunteering. I despise the games. "I don't think I'm quite ready yet. The kid who gets reaped this year is on their own."

My trainer stands up and I rise to be beside him. "You are good enough," he says seriously, "but it's your own choice. Good luck at the reapings."

I nod at him and turn to go home. I live with Amelia. God knows who my dad was. I don't know a whole lot more about my mum,to be honest. I was rather left to my own devices. The most she ever participated in my wellbeing was to give me a o Amelia for food. When I was 8 I couldn't stand it anymore and ran away to Amelia's. I doubt my mum's noticed yet.

As I open the front door, Amelia's mum greets me. I love Amelia's parents. They have welcomed me as a daughter since I arrived, paid for my training, and asked me to call them Mum and Dad. Mum offers me a brown paper parcel. "Ooh, what's this?"

"Your reaping dress, sugar. I picked it out myself."

"Aw, thanks mum," I say, giving her a quick hug, before running up to my double room which I share with Amelia.

The dress really is gorgeous. It's sailor style, and the navy trimming really brings out my eyes. I know I'm pretty, and loads of boys at school have crushes on me (when I go- It's not like they teach us anything new), but I don't really have a boyfriend, not since Bran, anyway.

Bran was my boyfriend. I had known him all my life, and he had supported me through the distance to my real mum. But, two years ago, he got reaped, and was brutally murdered by the careers. I would never sink that low- hunting like a pack of wild animals.

I clip my locket with a picture of Bran in it round my neck, and head towards the square for the reaping.

Hi guys,

Sorry this took so long, people kept closing the window whilst I was in the middle of writing this, so this is probably my fifth draft. Just so you know, there will be 25 shortish chapters about this size before the blood bath-

Pre-reaping- D1

Reaping -D2

Goodbyes -D3

Train ride- D4

Elsie's opinion so far

Chariot ride -D5

Training day 1-D6

Training day 2-D7

Training day 3-D8

Gamemakers sessions-D9

Interviews-D10

The night before the games-D11

Helicopter ride-D12

Hope to get the next chapter up soon! Enjoy!