Welcome to the second chapter of the Untold Hunger Games.

Due to a question posted in a review for the last chapter I thought I might clarify my reasoning for something here. This story takes place during the 99th annual Hunger Games. This is because I plan to publish a sequel that includes the Fourth Quarter Quell instead of the Third. I know I'm taking a risk by changing the time period but I think it'll be an interesting story element and the first story still, in my opinion, works with the changes in the timeline.

With that question answered let's begin Chapter Two of the Untold Hunger Games.

I'm stunned as we enter the lavish dining room with its beautiful, polished paneled walls and velvet, dark sapphire blue carpeted floor. The table was a light brown mahogany with a vase of snow white roses sitting in the centre. I figured the roses were to honor President Snow and shot them a distasteful look. A crystal chandelier made from a dozen lamp-like lights hung above the table as cords of diamonds dangled from the bottom. As I walked past the table I ran my hand over the soft navy blue fabric that covered the dining chairs. I didn't want to stop touching it. I'd never felt anything so soft. But reluctantly I pulled away and waited to see what Effie Trinket wanted us to do next.

Effie Trinket guided us into the separated sitting room with four plush, navy blue, cup-like armchairs pushed to the right side. This allowed space for a spread of sweets, cakes and pastries to sit comfortably on a long table to the left of the car. Aside from the long table, there were two rounded side tables of polished steel sitting aside the chairs, each with a tray of cakes and pastries atop them. Across from the chairs was a small bar with spirits of different varieties and a bucket for ice in between each selection of spirits.

The whole room was beautifully lit and I was in awe the entire time Effie Trinket walked us through, drowning out her voice as we walked slowly through the car. That is until she stopped us and proclaimed in her bubbly voice, "Your rooms are just past this door. Just enter the one with your name on it. I'll see you back here for lunch once you've freshened up."

I followed Peeta down the hallway that lay beyond the door. We walked for a short while before we reached two silver doors that each had an electronic plate to the side of them with Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen written on each. I wasn't too fond of separating myself from him so soon after entering the train but with Effie Trinket's eyes boring into our backs, I knew that we had to act like there was nothing more between us. I didn't trust this woman and I wanted to keep her from getting any ideas that would lead to her gossiping about it in the Capitol. We didn't need anyone getting any ideas and making speculations.

I secretly touched his hand with mine, caressing his palm, as I used my body to block Effie Trinket's view. "I'll meet you in the dining car." My voice was barely above a whisper, but I could tell he had heard me as he gave me a slight nod and reluctantly pulled his hand away from mine before entering his room.

I took in a deep breath as I entered my room. The lighting was dim at first due to there being no windows in the surprisingly spacious room. I had this place all to myself, with a soft bed covered with a thick, plush blue blanket with two large, matching pillows, a vanity dresser filled with expensive but comfortable looking clothes (which I only found after I went exploring my room) and even a bathroom with amenities that were far too expensive to have in District Twelve; like hot and cold running water.

My guess was that the Capitol wanted the 26 unlucky tributes to feel like we were their guests instead of this year's entertainment. I couldn't help but roll my eyes in disgust at the thought. This entire room was almost as big as my house and it made me think of home. I sank on my bed as I finally let the tears fall. I didn't have to hide anymore in the privacy of my room. I curled into a ball on the bed and just let it all out. Once I was done crying, I wiped my tears and sat up. I'd had my moment of weakness. Now it was time to be strong and survive the games. I stood up, ready to face whatever came next.

I pulled my reaping dress gently over my shoulders, trying not to rip the fabric as I readied myself for my first shower. It took me a moment to figure out how the foreign device worked, but once I did, I immediately stepped into the space. I sighed at the blissful sensation. It felt like summer rain was dripping down my body. I pressed each of the four buttons to the side of the shower heads, discovering what each one produced. One had a vanilla scented shampoo, another had peach fragranted body wash, and the third produced sweet smelling oils that made my skin tingle and the fourth changed the scent of the water itself to smell of lavender.

When I stepped out of the shower, the mat under my feet sent a hot but comfortable breeze swirling around my body to dry my skin and hair. I'd never known such things to exist. It was almost overwhelming to see how differently people of the Capitol lived compared to the people in the Districts. It made me hate them even more. They lived like this everyday, hoarding all this technology while many Districts still bathed in tubs with cold water and use fireplaces for warmth and light. I pushed those thoughts away, knowing I'd have to deal with them these next few days. I had to pretend I liked them. As hard as that might be, I'd try my best and if I was going to most likely die in the next week, I would indulge myself in the privileges they took for granted.

I pulled on a white house robe after drying off and re-entered the bedroom to find something pleasant to wear for the rest of the train ride. There were so many options to choose from but I eventually settled upon a forest green shirt and dark green pants with one inch boots of dark mahogany brown. Before leaving the room for good, I gently pinned Madge's gift to me on my shirt, to the left of my heart. With the bird sitting atop the green fabric I could almost imagine the animal in the forest back home, whistling out the songs I'd sing when hunting was slow. Songs my father had taught me when I was still young.

I took one last look at the room and thought silently to myself. If I win this, I'll be back in this very room. The thought troubled me somewhat and made me think about how these trains weren't designed just for tributes but also for the lucky ones who became victors. Of course only one of these rooms would see use again before the next Games began.

I shook my head quickly, that was not something I should dwell on. My growling stomach gave me time to think of something other than the Hunger Games, and also reminded me that lunch was waiting for me in the dining car. I proceeded to the adjacent train car, stopping only to breathe in the strong scents of foods that I had never smelled before in my life. My mouth watered and my stomach growled once more. I smiled, thinking for the first time in a long time I might actually be able to eat my fill.

The sliding door to the dining carriage opened to reveal more food laid upon trays throughout the cabin. The table that had been empty on our arrival was now covered with highly breakable dishes covered with different appetizers on each dish. They all looked highly edible and mouthwatering; in fact my mouth drooled a bit at the sight and the smell that I licked my lips in anticipation.

Peeta was sitting in the top right chair of the table, his plate littered with the selections of the extravagant lunch that lay before him. I took the empty seat to his left and gazed at all the food, really taking in the magnitude of it all in. Thick carrot soup, salad with chunks of vegetables laid in with the leafy greens, lamb chops sided with mashed potatoes and steamed mushrooms all covered in a thick gravy sauce, a spread of fruit and cheese some I had never even seen before and in the very middle of the polished table was a large triple layered chocolate cake.

I began to mound the food high on my plate. I figured I might as well put on a few more pounds before the Games, who knew when I'd be able to eat something this rich again.

"Where is Haymitch?" Effie Trinket asked cheerfully as she sat down and helped herself to a glass of wine and a lamb chop with its delicious side dishes.

"He's over there taking a nap," Peeta reported promptly, nodding his head over to one of the armchairs. A tuft of dirty blonde hair could be slightly seen from where we sat.

Effie Trinket gazed over and seemed a little relieved. "Well it has been an exhausting day." Which to me meant she was happy not to be physically assaulted by him again today, at least not before she had her meal.

Her gaze returned to us and she smiled happily at something, which she announced in an ecstatic voice. "At least you two have decent manners," she chimed as she daintily sipped her wine. "Last year's pair ate everything with their hands. They were complete savages and it utterly ruined my digestion." Peeta and I exchanged glances. The last pair of tributes were both from the Seam, a place where you didn't need table manners since you probably didn't eat very much to begin with.

Peeta had them because he was raised in the Marketplace, an area where manners are almost required, while my mom taught Prim and me how to eat properly, always stating that we should be ready if my grandmother ever made her rare appearance. So of course Peeta and I knew how to manage a knife and fork.

But even so, Effie Trinket's comment got to me. As I looked at Peeta a smile appeared on my face. He smirked at me; this boy always knew what I was thinking. We made a point to eat with our hands for the rest of the meal, wiping them on the tablecloth when we were finished.

This made Effie Trinket purse her lips as she sipped her wine. It was then that I started feeling a little sick. I glanced over to see that Peeta was a little green too. Guess our stomachs couldn't handle such rich foods. But if I can handle keeping down Greasy Sae's winter specialty - a soup made of ground wild dog meat, tree bark and her special spices - then I can manage keeping all the rich food I ate in my stomach.

Once the meal was finished, Effie Trinket rose from her seat and walked to the sitting area. While waiting for Peeta and I to move our slow and very full bodies over to the chairs, Effie Trinket pressed a round button on the wall to reveal a holo screen on the blank surface. She turned the two chairs facing the opposite direction around and seated herself beside Haymitch, who she shook awake, while letting Peeta and myself sit in the chairs she had turned around.

For the next half hour or so we watched the replay of the reapings, to see our competition. A few stood out to me. The volunteer tributes of Districts One and Two. I unfortunately remembered their names. Glimmer Azura, age 17 as told to viewers at the bottom of the screen, with her long, sharp blonde hair, volunteered curtly for the small 13 year old whose name had been drawn. Her volunteering much like the four other volunteers was not out of kindness or love but glory and honour. In fact from the age of 5 onward until you were too old, children of Districts One, Two and Four went to academies specially designed to train them for the Hunger Games. Even though this was technically illegal, the Capitol allowed it as Career Tributes, or Careers as they were more commonly referred to, were from the richest Districts and favourites of the Capitol.

Glimmer's fellow tribute was Marvel Sanford, also 17 years old. He had an almost humorous look on his face as he ascended the stage after proudly volunteering for a boy similar in age and height to him. The boy he'd volunteered for had been mad, but there was nothing he could do to change what had happened. Marvel had volunteered and they had to take him.

"I wonder how the Career Districts decide who gets to volunteer for the Games?" Peeta said, as a similar question had entered my own thoughts.

Surprisingly Haymitch's voice answered Peeta's wondering thought, "A week before the games, all the kids that are eligible to enter, compete in a tournament. The winners of each gender get to volunteer that year. It's more of a non-fatal fight, though I have heard that some end up in intensive care."

I was about to say something until District Two's reaping began on the screen. The girl volunteer, Clove Fentwall, age 15, looked like an extremely determined and intelligent girl who took her time to ascend the stage after volunteering for an older girl. The older girl gave her a menacing look as she punched her in the face and a fight began between them. It lasted several minutes before the Peacekeepers pulled them apart and the older girl, badly beaten, was carried away by the Peacekeepers.

"Better watch out for that girl. District Two's known for its fierce female tributes." Haymitch explained, adding on, "The majority of the victors from District Two are female."

Once the excitement died down the escort for District Two pulled out the slip for the boy tribute. What happened next was exceedingly rare in any of the Career Districts. The boy to which the slip belonged to, had no one volunteer for him. His name was Cato Hadley, age 18, and he was a vicious looking boy with a look in his eyes that could kill. I knew that I needed to watch out for both of them. They would make the competition harder, but I knew if I got my hands on a bow, I could kill them from a distance. Resolve flitted through me. I would have to kill these people. I'd never taken a human life before, but if I pictured them as game, then I should be fine. At least I hoped so. I shook my head to pay attention as Peeta nudged my foot.

The program moved to the District Three reaping. "Those four are the ones to look out for." Haymitch told us looking very serious as he said the words. "They're the most likely to win, especially the ones from District Two. Capitol pets are the favourites."

I turned my head away from Haymitch completely missing the District Three reaping and only saw the end of District Four's. Peeta told me there wasn't much to watch. District Three had Cida, age 13, and Sextus, age 14. District Four's had the usual volunteer tributes, Auricula, age 16, and Wade, age 14.

District Five had an interesting female tribute, Finch Swift, age 15. She had sleek red hair and a face that reminded me of the foxes I saw in the forest back home. I decided from then on I'd call her Fox for this remarkable resemblance.

The reaping for Districts Six to Nine didn't have any memorable tributes, the same was said for District Ten's female tribute, but the male tribute was a different story.

When the escort called out the name Joshua Raysh, a 16 year old boy with a crippled foot limbed through the crowd and hobbled onto the stage. Everyone watched as the escort asked for a volunteer and astonishingly a tall and very large boy in the crowd of 18 year olds raised his hand and volunteered. As the crippled boy descended the stage the 18 year old walked up and hugged him like I had when saying goodbye to Prim. He whispered something into Joshua's ear and returned to climb up onto the platform. His name made everything clear to why he had volunteered for the boy; Canwarn Raysh. No one could automatically tell if he was the boy's brother, a relative, or just a friend with a similar surname but I could tell, just by the hug he had given him, that they were closely related in some way.

"He's going to be competition for you, Katniss." Effie Trinket told me, "The Capitol loves when family volunteers for family. Though, your reaping was much more moving than that." I felt as if she was trying to reassure me.

I shook my head lightly, returning my eyes to the screen to see the most haunting of the tributes, a twelve-year-old girl from District Eleven. The girl had dark brown skin and eyes but reminded me so much, so painfully, of Prim. My heart stopped when the escort asked for volunteers and no one said a word. You could almost hear the wind whistling through the decrepit buildings around her. I whispered her name under my breath, "Rue Calla." Just as the male tribute's name was pulled out.

Thresh Gunthorn, age 18, was taller than any of the other tributes I had seen thus far. He had a cold and aloof feeling about him as he walked onto the stage. As usual no one volunteered.

I took in a deep breath to ready myself for the next reaping: my reaping.

As the shots passed before me, I felt as if I was watching the scene through another's eyes. I watched as my sister got reaped, as the whole crowd went silent. I saw myself run to her, pulling her behind my body as I yelled that I would volunteer as tribute. The camera got in close to my face and I noticed the determination in my eyes but also the threatening tears. Gale soon pulled Prim away from my side and I walked onto the stage.

The commentators, Caesar Flickerman - Master of Ceremonies and interviewer of the Games - and Claudius Templesmith - announcer of the Games - were both speechless about the silent goodbye, but soon Caesar Flickerman stated, "District Twelve has always been strange but local customs can be delightful. And there you have it, District Twelve's first ever female volunteer. A heartbreaking tradition but a silent one at that." He wiped a tear from his eye. It was almost comical, especially with Effie Trinket's silent sobs. How dare they show any emotion for us. They had no hearts. They were monsters. They did this to us. I wanted to jump through the screen and slap them. Rage filled me and I found my hands shaking. I cupped them in my lap and tried to calm down. I had to relax. I looked over at Peeta, watching his face as he stared at the tv. His presence grounded me, bringing me back to where I needed to be. I turned back to the tv.

I watched as the camera zoomed in on me and then switched to Haymitch shouting, "This girl's got spunk, bravo, bravo." Before he fell off the stage. This receives a comical laugh from both of the veteran commentators.

I heard Effie Trinket's voice muttering from behind me before Peeta's name was called. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behaviour." She acted like she meant to whisper it, but I knew she wanted Haymitch to overhear.

Peeta and I shared a light laugh with Haymitch answering Effie Trinket's comment while Peeta and I shake hands on the recap, "I know more than you think Effie."

Effie Trinket let out a short huff and looked to the screen. It has now switched to District Thirteen and the escort, a flamboyant man in a blinding green suit, had already asked for any volunteers for Diane, a short 16 year old with a frightened look on her face. When no volunteer came forth the escort pulled out the slip of paper where the male tribute's name was written. His name was Trevor, he was 15 and not very memorable. After the two shook hands the program faded to black.

Effie Trinket got up stating she was going to change before we reached the Capital which would be in about three to four hours. I muttered, "If it takes her that long to change, I wonder how long it would take for her to get ready for bed."

I heard a drunken laugh behind me, suddenly feeling hands on my chair as I'm spun 180 degrees. I stopped with Haymitch's drunken face leaning toward mine. "Okay girl let's talk about the Games," he slurred, breath smelling of spirits, and fell into his chair.

The action had surprised me, taking me off guard. Thankfully Peeta, who had turned around in his chair looking at Haymitch, spoke up, "What advice do you have for us?"

Haymitch replied in an annoying tone with a smirk on his face, "Stay alive."

"That's not funny," Peeta growled, lashing out at the glass Haymitch had in his hand. The glass flew through the air before landing with a crash on the floor some feet away. I flinched at the sound and wondered what Haymitch would do. He didn't flinch as he punched Peeta in the face, not holding back. The move sent Peeta spiraling to the ground as his face jerked sideways. He groaned as he rolled onto his back and sat up, glaring at Haymitch. I intervened before Peeta tried to hit the stupid drunk back. I reached down, giving him a hand as I led him to an ice bucket.

He started to raise some ice to the growing red mark on his jaw and his bleeding split lip, but Haymitch's next words stopped him. "No, let it show. Makes you look tough. Take it like a man. This game isn't made for boys. The Capitol might even think you got rough with another tribute."

"That's against the rules," Peeta reminded him as he placed the ice on his bruise.

Haymitch began to smirk at us, and I wondered if it was the only expression he knew how to wear. "Only if you get caught. So what can you do honey?" he asked me calmly.

I didn't hesitate as I grabbed a knife sitting close to me on the table. I threw it, watching in satisfaction as it found its mark between the two panels, causing Haymitch to whistle. "Nice," he stated, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He continued, "I've got a couple of fighters this year, and you're not entirely hopeless. You're fit. And once your stylists get a hold of you, you'll both be eye-catching enough. And that, sweetheart, is what's most important about the Games."

I looked at him curiously, "Looking eye-catching?" My words seemed to have an almost bored tone to them.

"No princess. You want people to like you and so far you're not doing a good job," Haymitch told me, getting up to pour himself another glass of spirits. "In order to get sponsors you have to look good and be likeable, and from what I can tell you've only got the looking good part."

I glared at him but before I could make any retort Peeta asked calmly, "How do you regulate what we get from sponsors when in the arena?"

"Depending on if you do get sponsors, I regulate them, as you say, by which ones you need more. Let's say you're in the arena and you're starving because there's no game to hunt. I'd send you food from the sponsors I try to get for you. Now let's say a sponsor gave you a piece of expensive jewelry while you were starving, and trust me I've seen it happen. I won't send you that, and I'd probably find you a new sponsor." Haymitch took a big gulp. He walked over and sat back down, getting comfortable before continuing.

"Sponsors mean life or death in the arena and if I get you the right ones. You could be able to survive to the last man... if you survive the Bloodbath that is." I nodded, understanding what he meant by that last point. The Bloodbath happened during the first twenty or so minutes of the game that was basically a full scale slaughter cutting the number of tributes almost in half. It left only the fittest, smartest, or the ones who were too scared to stay and fight. Most tributes who survived the Bloodbath would be able to survive the next few days, if they weren't the ones who were too scared to fight.

"The majority of sponsors won't pick you until there's about fifteen or so tributes left. Don't want to risk losing money on someone who dies before the Games even start," Haymitch explained as he lounged on his chair. "And since only twenty of the forty six tributes I've mentored have gotten that far in the Games, sponsors tend not to go anywhere near District Twelve tributes. Let's show them that you're a good investment, okay?" His eyes were on me as he said the words, almost as if they were especially for me.

Since he was already looking at me I decided to ask him, "Is it true mentors are allowed to send notes to their tributes with the gifts they send?" I remembered in previous years seeing some of the tributes receiving gifts with notes of encouragement written on thin pieces of paper from their mentors.

Haymitch nodded his head slowly. "Occasionally a mentor will send gifts with notes for tributes inside. The most notable ones that I can remember were with the Shine family."

Gloss and Cashmere Shine to be precise. I remembered them. They won their Games back to back, but that wasn't the biggest wins the Capitol got excited about. The biggest was that their parents Clos and Pashmina Shine were also victors of the Games. Clos had won the 59th Hunger Games and his girlfriend, later wife, Pashmina had won the 62nd Games. As Caesar likes to say whenever siblings were reaped, that the Shine family from District One made the Hunger Games a family event.

Peeta's next question snapped my thoughts out of their recollection. "This may seem rude to ask, but, can you tell us a bit about yourself? I mean we're probably both going to die in these games so it's not like we can tell anybody. And Effie's gone to pamper herself. So..." he trailed off, not really thinking that Haymitch was going to oblige his odd and very personal request.

Haymitch looked straight at Peeta, a smirk gracing his lips. "You've got stones kid. Not many would have the courage to ask. Get me another drink and I'll tell you whatever you want to know boy."

Peeta smiled almost triumphantly at his success, rising to get another drink for Haymitch. Haymitch handed Peeta the glass and clapped his hands as he started to tell us a bit about himself, not much but enough, "Well for starters I'm the proud survivor of the Third Quarter Quell, not much to sneeze at considering I'm one out of 52 unlucky kids that got reaped during that unfortunate year. I'm an expert in knives just like you sweetheart. Though my aim is a little off now, it was deadly during my games. I was able to kill two Careers with my knife skills and strength alone. I'm also intelligent and incredibly handsome." He flipped his hair at the last remark, causing me to scuff, "Well I was when I was younger. Capitol women still gush to me about the day when they first saw me on the screen. Young, handsome and strong. The perfect leader of my allies during the games."

His eyes went cold, "Course that was until they died and I came out alive. I didn't kill them as I'm sure you both already know, but I'm alive, so that in turn is a reason to show how well and truly I failed my allies." He stopped then looking at his empty drink, "Fill this up again for me will ya?" he asked Peeta, waving his glass at him.

Peeta wasted no time to get up from his seat and fill up the glass as Haymitch continued, "I came back the victor of our lovely little District. I lived as a saint for a few weeks, until a situation happened that brought my status down a peg." He didn't explain, only drank until his glass was empty again, "After that I lived in the Victor's Village along with my crazy mentor Victoria and her sweet great-granddaughter Jessalynn. I went on my Victory Tour a few months later and I wasn't alone anymore."

He smirked. I knew what he meant, I had seen her walking by his side on the rare occasions he left the Victor's Village. She must have been a comfort to him, even if she wasn't human.

"What's it like to have a Victor's Companion?" Peeta asked, curious about the strange animal a victor was gifted by the president on the last day of their Victory Tour. They were all muttations created by the Capitol to suit the personality of the victor of that year. Haymitch's companion was a wolfbear, a giant animal who was a mix between a wolf and a bear with black and grey fur and grey eyes.

Haymitch shrugged, "She's not much different than a giant dog. Though she eats like the animals that make up her core. She hates Victoria's tiger, I've had to keep her from killing the damn cat everytime Jessalynn takes the beast for a walk." He stretched a bit before raising from his chair, "Anyway. That's enough for today, I'm ready to sleep for the rest of the ride."

"Wait! What about your family and what happened during your games?" Peeta asked him, probably hoping for a similar response to his first question, but instead Haymitch brushed his question aside.

"Those boy, are stories for another time. I'm going to my cabin for another nap," he told us and walked out, hitting Effie Trinket on his way out. The woman had finished changing and was now wearing a short, flower brocade dress with a belt and a puffed up layer around her waist that was a colour that reminded me of the cotton candy my grandmother once brought us. Under that it was another gold one, how she wasn't boiling hot under all that, was beyond me. She had replaced the flower on her wig with a golden one and dawned a golden necklace, thick bracelets and chunky high heeled shoes.

Peeta and I both smirked slightly.

Effie Trinket looked at us, over the top pink eyeshadow clashing so much with her powder blue lips that it was hard to decide were to look on her face. "How odd you two find Haymitch's actions so amusing. He is your mentor, the second most important piece in the Games. Haymitch can be the difference between your life and your death." She stuck up her nose and continued walking until she saw the knife I had thrown before. "What is this?"

I smirked as I muttered, "A knife in the wall. Pretty good shot too."

"I see that, Katniss. Will you please take it out? Now!" Her voice rose as she tapped her foot against the carpet flooring. I glared at her as I got up and pulled the knife out quickly, causing her to jump a bit. I walked to the table and stabbed the knife into the expensive dark wood. "That is mahogany!" she hissed at me in a threatening tone. I ignored her and stomped away to the back of the train.

The last car of the train was the observation car, with windows that wrapped around the wall and ceiling in a semi-oval. A crescent shaped couch was pushed against the walls with matching red chairs on either side. They were separated by small tables with lamps and small pots of plants. There were two coffee tables in the center of the car with more potted plants. I sneezed as the scent slammed into me. It was almost overpowering, but I'd get used to it. I moved to sit on the couch resting my chin on my folded hands watching the scenery go by with a solemn yet nostalgic expression on my face.

I sat in silence for a long time before I suddenly heard the sound of the door slide open. It almost made me jump but when you'd been out in the woods as much as I had, you learned not to be spooked by startling noises. I turned my head slowly to see that the person who entered the car was Peeta. He made his way towards the couch and took a seat on the cushion beside me.

I thought at first he was going to say something to me, but for a long while we sat in silence. It only broke when I asked him calmly, "Effie Trinket still pissed at me?"

Peeta smirked, shaking his head. "Not anymore. She cried for a little about how expensive the table was, but I calmed her down." He then added with a grin this time, "I did that almost an hour ago."

I laughed at the knowledge that I had been in the car in complete silence for almost an hour. No wonder my legs were feeling numb. "Guess that means we'll be in the Capitol soon huh?"

Peeta nodded. "Actually we're going to be pulling into the station in a few minutes. That's why I came to find you. Effie said she wants us both in the dining car. Last minutes checks or something."

I nodded and stared out the window, watching as the scenery suddenly changed into the darkness of a tunnel that engulfed the train.

I hated being encased in rock this way. It made me feel frightened and small. I suddenly felt Peeta's arms around my waist. I leaned into him as this calmed me and made me feel stronger. The tunnel disappeared in a few seconds and the train began to slow. Suddenly bright lights flooded into the compartment and Peeta and I stared in amazement at the Capitol, the reigning city of Panem. I wasn't being metaphorical when I said the Capitol was shining; every towering building was made of shining metals that caught the light of the sun and made everything glisten in the light. Sleek cars of all shades of the rainbow drove down the paved black streets where multitudes of oddly dressed, well-fed people walked on the sidewalks; some were walking their oddly coloured dogs or other creatures I had never seen in real life before. The strangest were two purple tigers with silver leashes being walked by a tall woman with a matching coloured fur dress, shoes, and hair.

This odd Capitol woman and others around her looked up at us, pointing to the train that they knew was a tribute train, probably by the colouring or the small size. I looked away from the window. I didn't want to see the people that hoped for my death. My sweet Peeta held his ground and waved while smiling at the people below. He stopped as we pulled into the clean white station.

I stared at him. Why the hell would he wave at the people who were waiting to see us die? Peeta shrugged, as if knowing what I was thinking. "One of them may want to sponsor someone." I smiled and kissed his cheek hoping he's right. My Peeta's a fighter, and I knew he would do anything to keep me alive... even sacrifice himself.