I woke up early the next day and took a pill before thinking about anything else. I was healing up really nicely, and feeling incredibly grateful about the gift given me. I drank half of my canteen and ate as many berries and nuts as I could hold, plus a strip of the dried beef. I folded up my supplies, bent on spending the day walking quietly, though I wasn’t sure which direction was smarter to take. I could go further away from the Cornucopia, but wasn’t that where everyone else was be going?

Maybe. Or maybe the tributes from one and four that were still alive would be there waiting for someone. I went to the river and filled my canteen again and decided to move closer to the Cornucopia. Even though the medicine helped a lot, I was still moving slowly. By the end of the day I had seen no one at all and had probably not made it even halfway there, which was okay. I climbed up into a tree early. I knew there had been a death that day; I had heard the cannon shortly after what I had guessed was noon. I saw the face of the girl from eight in the sky. The twelve year old. I was surprised that she had made it so long, and did not want to know how her death had come.

The next day went much the same, and I was healing up faster than I could have imagined. Midday, another parachute arrived, and inside was bread from district seven. I wondered if Brutus had gotten the same, and then I realized that was the first time I had really even thought of him in all five days of the games. I moved closer to Cornucopia, but not by much. I wasn’t really sure why I was going that way, anyway. It just seemed like something to do. I went to sleep the fifth night and there were no names in the sky.

This worried me greatly. If nothing exciting was happening, the gamemakers would make something exciting happen. The crowds would be getting restless and quite frankly, so was I. Even though the water and food was helping, I had still probably lost ten or fifteen pounds. Maybe even more, and I had been thin to begin with. My cheeks felt gaunt when I touched them, and I was undeniably filthy. Getting into the river to clean myself was out of the question because of its speed, and taking the time to wash myself off by getting water out of the river left me feeling too vulnerable. So stink, I did, and it was one of the worst feelings I had ever had. I was thin, tired, covered in dirt and I had never wanted to brush my teeth so badly in my entire life. The taste in my mouth would not be ridded of by water or berries. I was also desperate for meat, but I hadn’t seen so much as a rabbit or a bird around, and I wouldn’t begin to know how to skin and cook it if I did. So berries, the bread from seven and water it was, along with the one strip of dried beef I had left.

On the sixth day, I continually moved forward without interruption until midmorning. I heard them coming from far away. They weren’t even trying to keep quiet. They had to be the tributes from four; confidence like that only came from the rich, privileged districts.

I scampered up a tree as quickly as I could, hoping I wasn’t making too much noise. I was out of their sight, but at a comfortable enough distance that if they didn’t look directly up, they wouldn’t see me. For a moment, it crossed my mind to just let them walk by. But that was dumb. There were six of us left. I wanted it to be over, and I couldn’t sit back and simply let it happen. I was exhausted, thin and constantly close to breaking.

I had the weapons in my hand. It was easy for me to do it. They weren’t expecting it, at all. I did it without flinching. The first one was the easiest. The girl. The knife sunk right into her chest, right over her heart. She barely twitched as the blood ran up her neck and onto her pale face, seeping into her long, blonde hair. She had been very pretty. I didn’t even wonder who her family was; who was waiting for her back home.

The boy looked for me but I was hidden by the thick layer of pine needles. He was more difficult to kill and only because I knew he was looking for me. He knew I had just murdered someone in cold blood and he was mad at me for it, even if it was just what I had to do. But I did it. It was too easy, again, to watch him die. To listen to the canons that signaled their deaths at my hands.

Was it supposed to be that easy, to kill? Not only for me to be able to physically do it—because I had expected a fight, a struggle, to not be able to kill both tributes from district four in a minute without any harm coming to me—but to be able to walk over their dead bodies and take back the weapons. Three dead at my hands. Twenty dead total. Four left, including myself.

I was past the point of feeling remorse. I was a tool of entertainment at the Capitol’s hands, and the crowd was probably eating it up. I didn’t care. They had broken me, and I was fine with it.

—

When I woke up on the seventh day, the river was dry. I supposed that my killing of the district four tributes was not enough action; they needed us all together. After only a week? I had seen Games last much longer, but if the crowd wanted it, the crowd wanted it, and we had to oblige. I knew that Brutus and the two other tributes would head for the Cornucopia, and although I didn’t want to meet them, I wasn’t afraid.

I didn’t think that killing three people had made me more fierce or more dangerous, but it took away the fear. I hadkilled people. Families lost children at my hands. It wasn’t wrong, what I did, given the circumstances, but it still changed something in me.

I had been moving closer and closer to the Cornucopia for the past couple of days and even at my slow pace—slow because some type of damage had been done inside my leg that even the pills that caused the slow healing of the outside wound and the ridding of infection couldn’t heal—I made it by nightfall.

Just as I arrived and was standing hidden in the edge of the trees, I heard the canon go off. I was high up in a tree a moment later when the face flashed in the sky. The boy from five was dead. That left Brutus, the girl from one, and me. I fell asleep, praying the other two would kill each other in the night and I would be Victor by default.

I grabbed what I could, which was only two knives and my axe, and climbed down from the tree as fast as I could. The tributes were close; a lumbering boy who I knew was named Kipling, and the girl who had been portrayed as ruthless in her interview, Rudy. Both tall and strong; tributes from their district were always trained for the games, even though that was definitely against the rules.

I kicked Conrad when they were only ten feet away and approaching fast. He jumped to his feet and against my better judgment, I handed him one of my knives.

“We can do this,” he whispered, and with a yell the tributes arrived. They wasted no time talking and neither did we. We matched up easily, girl against girl and boy against boy. It was unfair, really. I was probably better equipped to take on Kipling and Conrad to face Rudy, but that was the way of things.

“Your romance was just touching,” she grinned at me. There was no denying that in seconds, she could have me dead. I didn’t know what to do.

Her eyes flashed over to her partner and as did mine. Conrad had the knife square in Kipling’s chest, and I couldn’t help but internally roar with excitement! That was, until I noticed the spear that was straight through Conrad. Surely, they would both die, and it had happened in seconds.

“Shit,” Ruby whispered and I took the split second where her attention was on someone else and not on me to attack. She was five feet away, her head turning back to me when the knife sunk into her shoulder. Her shoulder?! I could throw better than that; it was certainly nervousness. She howled in pain and returned. She had a sheath of arrows and a bow on her back and one sunk into my thigh before I could think. The knife in her chest must have hindered her ability, or maybe she wasn’t that good with a bow and arrow.

The pain was hot and immediate and my first thought was just how I was going to get that out of my leg. That would be, I was sure, the worst pain I had ever experienced in my life.

Ruby had fallen down and I could see the blood spreading over her chest. I took the chance while I had it, because I knew I would not get another. I looked, just for a second, at Conrad and Kipling; both dead. I felt an irrational pang of sadness at his death.

I had to focus. I lunged forward with the familiar weight of the axe in my right hand. Ruby was sitting up, setting another arrow that was aimed straight at my throat. We shot our weapons at the same time. I was at an advantage, standing up, and my axe sank deep into her throat while her arrow simply grazed my shoulder—though ‘simply’ might not have been the best word for it. It was a deep gash.

Hers was deeper. It was a wonder that her head was still attached to her neck as her skin went white and her deep brown eyes rolled into the back of her head. It was the most gruesome thing I had ever witnessed. Yes, she was dead and I had killed her. Killed someone who had parents, friends, loved ones.

I didn’t linger on it as I bent down and, with some effort, removed the axe from what was left of her neck. Three cannons fired, and I walked over to where Conrad lie, dead next to Kipling. I felt a small pang of sadness for the boy I had hardly known, but only because he had been the only person in the arena to not wish me dead. I touched his shoulder, not sure of what else to do, and stood up as three cannons fired. I made my way to the river.

My thigh was on fire and my shoulder stung like nothing else. It was nothing compared to the wound on my leg from the first day, which was beginning to heal up nicely. I sat down by the river, which was flowing a little more slowly. I filled my canteen up with water and first took my tunic up to address my shoulder wound. The arrow in my thigh was too much to think about and whenever I did imagine pulling it out, my head got light and I felt as if I would pass out. I needed to not pass out.

I rinsed off the cut on my shoulder and tore some of my undershirt off and wrapped it around three times. The blood didn’t seem to be seeping through, but I put another layer on and it felt better. This did not distract from my leg. For a moment, I lay back and straightened my right leg, the wounded one, straight out. I grimaced at the feeling and let out a little whimper, but realized that there was probably a camera on my face right at that moment, and I was probably being broadcast everywhere. I couldn’t show weakness. I set my face straight, thinking of Kylar. I snapped, with much effort and pain, some of the arrow off so there was less to pull.

“Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit…” I whispered. I poured a little water on it. The arrow wasn’t as deep as I had thought, but it was going to hurt. “Rip it out. Rip it out!” I told myself.

I had never felt such pain when I did. I didn’t know where I pulled the strength from, but it felt like I did more damage in pulling it out. Quickly I ripped pants off and rinsed the wound off before wrapping most of the rest of my shirt around my thigh.

I would be useless for walking for at least the rest of the day. I filled the canteen up again and looked at the amount of food in my pack. Not enough. Of course! Of course not enough!

I had to drag myself around because even crawling on my knees was the most painful, but I did it until I had enough to get me through the day. The worst was climbing up into a tree with my pack, trying to use only one leg, but I knew I had to do it. If I was going to stay hidden all day, it had to be in a tree.

Eventually, I found a comfortable place to lay down and did just that, though there was still so much adrenaline coursing through me, plus a whole lot of pain, that I could not sleep. I lay there for hours and sometime after noon, the parachute landed. When your sponsors, pulled together by your mentors, gave you a gift, it came down in a small parachute.

I was surprised to see this, and knew that the small bottle of pills, probably containing less than ten, must have been pooled by many sponsors together. It had to be incredibly expensive, and there was nothing about the dosage. I wanted to take two or three, but instead took just one with some water.

It was about half an hour before I felt the effects, but they were amazing. This was definitely some high-tech medicine from the Capitol and it was meant to heal me right up. It couldn’t close my wounds, but the blood clotted up and the bleeding stopped completely. It ridded me of nearly all my pain and left me feeling a little better than before.

I spent the rest of the day sleeping and woke up to see the faces of those who had died that day. Conrad, Kipling, and Ruby—the girl I had killed with my own hands. That meant seventeen dead and seven still alive, including myself.

I fell back asleep before I could think about it.

I wasn’t exactly sure where to go, but further away seemed smart. I would move carefully during the day, keeping myself safe and alive, and climb high into the trees at night.

This plan went pretty well for the first half of the second day. I was keeping distance from the river, but still following it as I walked. I knew that was where all the tributes would center around, and wanted to keep distance between it and myself. I gathered up roots, berries and nuts at my leisure, stocking up my heavy back pack.

I heard footsteps approaching around noon, as I was crouched with my back to a tree, drinking more water and eating my fill and feeling a little fatigued, though I wasn’t sure why as the day had brought nothing particularly strenuous. I had also scraped off some of the layers underneath the first layer of bark on the tree; I had eaten plenty of bark back in district seven and while it tasted terrible and was awful to chew, it was filling and I was grateful for it. I wondered how many districts knew you could do that. Not many, probably.

The footsteps came closer as I silently stood up, my axe in one hand and my knife in the other, and all of my adrenaline pumping quickly through me, and then he spoke. “I know you’re there. I don’t want to hurt you.”

I rolled my eyes, pressing my back tighter to the tree. I could see him then. He was in front of me, instead of behind as it had sounded. Three trees away, with his hands up. He had nothing on his person; no weapons, no food, no water, though surely he was not dehydrated. He did, however, look very hungry. He was tall and lanky with dark hair and light skin; I recognized him as the boy from twelve, but did not know his name.

“Of course you want to hurt me,” I replied, lifting the axe up a little.

“No, I don’t. I… I’m starving.”

I raised my eyebrows. What did I care if he was starving? Wasn’t that good for me? And after all, it was only the second day. He wouldn’t die of starvation just yet. With water, he could last much longer.

“I ran from the Cornucopia and didn’t pick anything up. I don’t know anything about what’s good to eat in the forest and what isn’t. You do.” He was growing closer. I knew it would be smart just to throw the knife right into his heart, but I couldn’t do it while he wasn’t even attacking me. “We could be allies. I’m strong and fast, I just… can’t survive without supplies.”

Allies. “Allies?”

He nodded. He was getting to close, and he stopped when I raised the axe just a few inches more. “It’s either kill me right now or become my ally.”

“How can I trust you?”

He shrugged. Why hadn’t I already killed him? It was the smart thing to do. Kylar would want me to. He was probably begging me to at that very moment. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I can trust you, either, but I do. We could be allies and then part ways later in the games. Let someone else kill the other. I don’t want to kill you.” He was frightened. He didn’t want to die, this boy. He looked younger than me; maybe fourteen or fifteen.

He had no weapons. He was so hungry that I could hear his stomach growling. I put the knife back into my belt and set my pack on the ground. Keeping my eyes on him and my axe raised, I reached into my pack for a handful of berries and nuts. I held it out and before I could do anything else, they were out of my hand and into his mouth. I thought about telling him about the bark, but that would make me less valuable to him, if he was able to collect it himself. So I decided to stick to gathering berries, nuts and roots.

He extended his hand when he was finished eating. I thought it was for more, but then realized it was for a handshake. Hesitantly, I stuck my hand in his and he shook it eagerly, smiling. When he smiled, he looked much younger.

“I’m Conrad. From district twelve.”

“Cinder, from district seven.”

“I remember you, sure. Engaged to your mentor. That’s rough.” There was actually a hint of sadness in his eyes; this boy felt sorry for me. He reminded me of Brutus, only smaller and more innocent. He had the same expression on his face that Brutus had when he stepped on that stage the day of the reaping—sheer terror. I decided to trust Conrad, because someone so young and from twelve was surely not lying to me. If he could have killed me, he surely would have tried already.

I smiled and shrugged. “Not so rough. A small obstacle before my wedding.” I hoped they would broadcast that; I wanted my confidence to give me sponsors.

Conrad laughed. I decided to really like him when I heard his laugh, like soft bells chiming. It was comforting.

We spent most of the afternoon gathering. I was careful, mostly gathering myself and not exactly showing him how to tell what was good and what wasn’t, unless he asked. Usually he just took what I gave him without question, and more than once I saw something poisonous and thought to slip it to him. But he trusted me so much, and an ally wouldn’t be a bad thing to have. Even if I couldn’t fully tell what Conrad’s intentions were, beyond his motivational fear, it was a comfort to have him at my side. We didn’t talk much, because I didn’t want any unnecessary attention drawn to us. During the day, we heard two cannons, signaling two deaths.

“Tell me about twelve,” I said to him, as I knew little of the district besides the fact that their main export—or only export—was coal.

He shrugged. “It’s, you know, smaller than the others. And not very much food. Most people die of starvation, I guess. We go to work in the mines when we’re eighteen.”

I’d always heard that the conditions in twelve were worse than the others. Not many dropped dead of starvation in seven.

“Wow,” I replied.

“Yeah. It’s… Well, I guess I would rather be there than here, so I won’t complain.” Conrad was proving himself to be an upstanding teenager, and I found myself proud to have him as an ally.

When nightfall neared, I told Conrad I would be sleeping in a tree. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea, and said he would sleep at the base of the tree instead. I wished I had something for him to sleep in, but I had studied making shelters a lot, so I helped him make a decent bed of pine needles and gathered some large leaves from a bush near to the river for his blankets. I watched, safe up in the tree, as the two faces flashed in the sky. The boy from district one—which was a shock, because districts one, two and four usually lasted much longer—and both tributes from ten.

I slept less than the first night, because the day had been less tiresome, and I was more than a little worried that Conrad would turn in my sleep.

I awoke the next morning fully alive with Conrad asleep at the base of the tree, and I watched as the two tributes from district two advanced on him.

In front of me was the Cornucopia—the center of the arena. A large, golden ball with the Capitol seal on it. All around it were the tributes, myself included. I turned behind me and saw where I instantly knew I would be going; the forest. Tall, tall trees. Pine trees! I certainly knew my way around those, and knew that if no one else, Brutus would certainly be joining me there. In front of me, on the other side of the Cornucopia, was the tallest grass I had ever seen. That seemed horrifying; who knew what sort of animals could be lurking in that grass while you wandered in it blind?

I saw a small lake, surrounding the Cornucopia, but thought for a moment I could also hear the rushing of it somewhere distant. After I took in the scene, which was still a little muddled in my mind, I looked at the supplies all around the Cornucopia. I had twenty seconds left, I speculated. The pack I spotted was probably ten feet from me. It looked heavy, and certainly it would weigh me down. But I was so close to the Cornucopia and it was in the opposite direction, towards the woods. Unlike some of the other packs, it was painted green. That had to mean something; they had been dressing me in green all week. It was meant for me.

The bell sounded, or more like a horn, and I had no time to question it. I was off my pedestal and sprinting. I saw someone else going for it, the girl from ten. I was faster and stronger. I got there first and tore it from her weak grip.

I was still doing what Kylar had told me to do. I was avoiding the blood bath closer to the Cornucopia where the better gifts were stored, and scooping this up on my way. I glanced over my shouder as I got further and further away. Two were running after me, but they seemed more intent on getting away than capturing. There was already blood aplenty behind us, and I turned and continued running fast forward, angling myself in a way the others seemed not to as I approached the woods.

I wasn’t able to stop when I felt something sharp graze my leg. I knew it drew blood, and the pain told me it may have even gone deep. I turned to see the girl from ten, who I had taken the pack from, with blood on her face and a bow and arrows in her hands.

I disappeared into the trees and kept going and going, losing her and the others. Kylar was right. I was much faster. I wasn’t sure how exactly I had gotten that way, but I didn’t have time to question it as I ran.

I could hear the water, but I wasn’t going to run towards it. That’s what the others would do and I wasn’t quite ready to come across them. I slowed to a jog that was manageable after a period of running that felt like days. I was exhausted beyond belief and my leg was absolutely aching, and finally allowed myself too slowly and, hopefully, soundlessly move towards the water.

When I reached it, after an extensive period of making sure no one was around, I realized just why I could hear it so well. It was a river, but smaller. Probably twenty feet wide and rushing through the beautiful green forest I had been running through for what I estimated was three or four hours; my heart was pounding so fast and my breaths were coming in short gasps from the exertion, besides the intense paranoia that someone would sneak up from behind me at any moment. I saw then that the water was moving so fast that it seemed one foot in would sweep you away. I sat down, looking around carefully, and examined my leg. Not as deep as I thought, and the bleeding had stopped. It was stinging like nothing else, though. I rolled my pant leg up and took my boot off.

Looking over my shoulder every second, I reached over my shoulder and took off my pack. Inside was more than I had ever hoped for; I had been right and the pack was meant for me.

A sheath of knives, some of which I could attach to my belt, was inside, along with an axe. More than one would have been great, but one was good, too. That I would hold in my hand at all times. There was a canteen that wasn’t very big, but I was pleased to see it. There was also a blanket that looked to be made out of a slick silver material and I wondered if it gathered or reflected up heat. I would find out that night when the sun fell and the temperature would plummet. The only other thing in the pack was what looked like some dried meat that would probably be very tough, but it was good. I would need to start hunting and gathering the berries and nuts I remembered immediately.

I filled my canteen carefully by leaning over. I had to grip it so tight that my muscles ached to keep it from flying away and when it was done, I tucked it back into the pack after pouring a little water over my leg wound. I ripped off a strip of my pants—they were torn anyway—and tied it tightly around my leg. It felt much better after that.

I didn’t know how far the small river went, but I imagined all the way through the arena. It seemed odd for them to make water so readily available to us; much too kind for the game makers, but I didn’t question it. I got up and surveyed the area and after finding myself alone, moved on.

I had absolutely no plan at all. Stay alive? Kill anyone who comes across my path? Make my way back to the Cornucopia after a few days? Well, I knew I would eventually be forced back there. If I made it and it got boring, they would find a way to bring the tributes together. They always did. For then, I just had to focus on my own survival. It was getting to be late afternoon and I was moving around the forest as quietly as possible, freezing up at every turn and clutching to the latest tree. An outside pocket of my pack was filled to the brim with the berries and nuts that I knew to be safe when the sun began to set. As it did, the cannons began. Eleven went off. Eleven to represent all the tributes who had died in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. They usually waited until after the deaths were over, because there was such chaos.

I had never been more exhausted or starving in my entire life. I didn’t know where to sleep so that I would be safe. I thought about settling at the bottom of a tree, but that would be so obvious. Anyone who stumbled along—and I knew the pack of tributes from one, two and four who always banded together would be moving at night—could easily take me out while I slept.

Large pine trees aren’t always the easiest to climb. I figured a lot of tributes wouldn’t really be able to do it, but I had the advantage. When I had been smaller and started working in the forest, Kaz had loved to climb up the trees in any break he had. He taught me how to shimmy up the part with no branches until I got to the ones that I could easily relax in. I walked until I found the thickest one with what looked like the best branches. The pine needles wouldn’t be a comforting bed, but the silver blanket was surprisingly thick. With my very heavy pack slung on my back and my axe tucked into my belt, I began to shimmy up the tree as the sun began to set.

I had to climb carefully and high all around until I found two branches close enough to each other for me to make a bed on, wrapping the silver blanket around myself, and hung my back near my head. Millions of times, falling out of the tree in the night crossed my mind, but I had always been a decently calm sleeper and I was counting on that.

As the sun set, I heard the chime overhead. Every night of the Games, they would project on the sky the faces of those who had died. Not how they died or who killed them, but just their face and district number. I watched as the faces rolled on; the death toll was always the highest the first day. Both tributes from three, the girl from five, both from six, the boy from eight, both from nine, both from eleven, and the girl from twelve. Eleven dead tributes in total, as the cannons had said earlier. So many lives lost; so many mourning families back home. And thirteen of us, still alive, looking for each other.

As frightened as I was, and cold though the silver blanket seemed to keep my body heat in, I was able to fall asleep easily. I had a dreamless sleep and woke up in the exact same position. I felt incredibly thankful that I seemed to still be sleeping stilly. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but it was getting close; I had awakened just before dawn. I sat up on the branch and pulled the canteen out of my pack. I drank half of it and chewed on some berries and nuts, saving the dried meat for later. I organized everything and slung the pack onto myself. I heard and saw no one coming, so with axe in hand, I climbed back down the tree to begin day two of the Games.

The Games. The 72nd Annual Hunger Games. They began that morning, and I was a contestant. The female contestant from district seven who earned a nine and dazzled the crowd with her confidence. I had to say goodbye to Kylar early. Only the stylists would be taking me to the arena, through a series of underground tunnels. They said it wasn’t far away this year. They location was always a secret until the Games began. I had been up all night before, thinking of millions of things. Home. How I would possibly die the next day. How I would possibly kill some the next day. What would Kylar be doing the whole time, and what would Johanna do? And mostly, I wondered what the arena would be like and what I most wanted it to be like. I wasn’t sure what would be best for me, but I was hoping for something that had a lot of trees. To me, that seemed to provide cover.

I was up at the crack of dawn and dressed in my simple training clothing, though that wasn’t what I would be wearing for the Games. My hands were shaking as I washed my face and braided my hair over my shoulder, tying it tight and putting an extra hair band around my wrist, along with the token that was given to me by Kaz.

“Ready?” Kylar asked, coming up behind me and wrapping his strong arms around my thin waist. I wished I wasn’t so thin. I wished we were back home in the Victor’s Village and I was preparing him a nice breakfast and cleaning up after him. I wished we were married and happy and carefree.

“Yes,” I replied. I was having a hard time holding it all together in front of him. I knew I wouldn’t be able to calm down at all unless I was away from him, if I was going to be able to calm down at all.

He took my hand and led me back down to the lobby of the large building we had been staying in. We walked past the doors to the training station and I resisted the urge to run back in and glance at the plant books again. We moved to a car with blacked-out windows that would take us to the tunnel, and that was where I was made to part with Kylar. I knew it was probably the last time we would ever speak.

I grabbed his arm. “If I don’t make it, take care of yourself. Be good to yourself, because I love you. Don’t ever neglect the thing I love the most. Do you understand?”

He wanted to protest, I could tell, but instead he nodded.

“Any last advice?” I asked as the car door was open. Brutus climbed in after nodded goodbye to Johanna, who had been giving him a few last tips.

“Yes. Don’t go for the supplies at the beginning. You wouldn’t make it out of that bloodbath. Just run away. Don’t be frightened, ever, because you can’t help what’s happening and fear doesn’t make you think any sharper. I will send you everything I can. And I love you, and I’m fully expecting to marry you as soon as we get home.”

I stood up on my tip toes and kissed him softly. I wanted him to feel all my love in that kiss; I wanted him to know that I was completely and totally devoted to him, and I didn’t have to say that outloud. Kylar knew; he knew me in and out and he knew how I felt about him.

He held my wrist for one second more, staring at me. I took him in. His bright eyes and his strong jaw. His plump lips and his thick lashes.

“To me, you’re already my husband,” I whispered, and got into the car that would whisk me away.

—

I was taken below the arena, because obviously I wasn’t allowed to see it before. Every tribute was in their own small area, blocked off from the others. I sat there with my stylist, Albina, for my only company. She had re-braided my hair in a much neater fashion and helped me into the outfit. The pants were tight but easy to move around in and made of a dark material that didn’t feel like it would protect me from anything. There was an undershirt and another tunic with long sleeves; it, too, was tight but easy to move in, and a dark green color. The boots went halfway up my thigh and were soft and leather. I bounced around in them and they felt very comfortable, which was good. I wondered if all of the tributes would be dressed in the same thing, until I realized they always were. How nice for us, to all be dressed alike.

I looked to Albina and wondered how many tributes she had sat in this room with, and just how many of them died after she made them up. While I was thinking dark thoughts against her, she reached over and took my hand in hers.

“Are you terribly nervous?” she asked.

I answered honestly, “No. I just… I just want to get it over with. To die, or to have some sort of miracle and go home to marry Kylar.”

She touched the engagement ring on my finger. I was probably the first tribute she’d known who was engaged, since we were all so young.

The announcement rang that I was to get onto the lift. I stepped up and turned to Albina, the only person I had to say goodbye. She finally let go of my hand and gave me a sad smile.

“Kylar will be waiting for you,” I heard her say as a clear tube came down to meet the circular platform I was on, surrounding me completely. It was seconds, and then I was lifted up. All dark around me, my arms on the plastic tube, and then I emerged into light.

I had one minute to take in the scene around me, and then it was game on.

—

Please, let me know what you’re thinking!

I was uncomfortable in my dress as we waited to go on stage for the interviews. It wasn’t that physically, it wasn’t comfortable. It was like a second skin, and that was why I felt odd. It was so tight and revealing, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. A deep, glowing red with black accents, and I knew it looked good on me. I had only been told a thousand times that day. My make up was done in a dramatic fashion, as well, and my hair was once again long and straight down my back, though a little wavier and bigger than it had been for the opening ceremonies. I knew I looked nice. No, I looked sexy, as I was supposed to, but still I didn’t like it.

Brutus was dressed plainly in a suit with green accents. His blonde hair was brushed away from his face and he had a sour expression on. That was perfect; it was exactly how he was supposed to look.

“I don’t want to do this,” he said just before we began filing on the stage. We would all be seated by district, all next to each other in three rows, and the curtain would open to us already there.

I reached over against my better judgment as we reached our tall, white chairs, and touched his arm.

“Me either. It’s important. Do your best to impress so you can get sponsors.”

He scoffed. “We both know I’m not the pick to win from seven.”

I bit my lip. There was nothing to say in reply to that, because he was right. I had an unfair advantage because of Kylar.

I began sweating as soon as the curtain was pulled back. There was Caesar, in front of the crowd of thousands who were all whooping and hollering for him and for us. I could make out no faces, except those in the front row. Our stylists and mentors. Kylar was giving me a soft smile, and Johanna the glare that I knew to be the gentlest.

Caesar’s hair was bright red, as were his lips and his jacket to match. He was a different color every year, and this was by far the worst choice. It was such a deep red that he appeared to be bleeding. I wanted to search for a wound on him.

They wasted no time starting the interviews. Each tribute got three minutes exactly, and it was interesting to see from which angle they were playing. A lot of the girls were innocent or modest, and some were almost a bit frightening they were so fierce. The boys were mostly playing strong, and some were charming.

All the districts flew by and I tried to size up my competitors as they did. I couldn’t tell how they would fight by their interviews; how were people supposed to decide how to sponsor them from this?

Before I knew it, my name was called. I took a deep breath and looked not at Kylar, but Johanna. She straightened her back and neck and gave me a fierce expression that I knew I was meant to mimic, and I did my best as I carefully sauntered forward towards my seat. Caesar stood up to greet me and took my hand tenderly in his. Up close, he was even more frightening, but the expression on his face was undeniably friendly. As I had watched all the other tributes, I noticed how he asked questions that painted them in a good light, and I liked him for it, no matter what color his lips were at the moment.

“Cinder, my, my!” he exclaimed as the crowed ooed and aahed at my gorgeous dress. “You are absolutely stunning! Not that I’m surprised, after all we saw at the Opening Ceremonies!” he laughed, and the crowed joined in. I gave what I hoped was a demure smile as we sat down.

“Thank you, Caesar. My stylist is wonderful.”

He grinned. “I bet! Cinder, I want to ask what we’re all dying to hear about. You and your mentor. Tell me more.”

I leaned back and crossed my long legs, one over the other, letting the one on top drape out of the slit up my dress.

I looked to Johanna, hoping to answer the way I had answered her questions earlier. “I told Kylar how I felt before he left for the games, and I thought he would never come back. But he did. I never imagined I could be so in love with someone. I’ve never be happier in my entire life. He’s the most wonderful man in the world. We’re getting married as soon as I get home from the Games.”

With this, I turned back to Caesar with another winning smile and a flip of my long hair over my shoulder. I caught Johanna smiling out of the corner of my eye and I knew I had done well.

Caesar laughed. “I certainly hope that’s something we’ll all get to see!”

“Oh, you will. Nothing could stop me from marrying the love of my life, Caesar,” I said, leaning forward. “Absolutely nothing.” And I realized, as I was saying it, that I meant it. I would not stand by and let something like this keep me from marrying Kylar. My will to live kicked in at that moment.

He asked me questions about my family and my strategy in the arena until my three minutes were up and I was allowed to return to my seat. I keep a stone cold expression through the rest of the interviews, and we filed out as the audience of Capitol dogs went nuts over us. No one really stood out as the top competitor, which seemed good to me. Maybe that would give me a chance; my determination to marry Kylar. It was the only thing I had to hold on to. It was all I thought about as Johanna assured me I had done an amazing job and Kylar said he would have no problem getting us sponsors. It is all that was on my mind when I went back to my compartment and washed myself off. It is all I allowed myself to think of, over and over, while I got into bed. You’ll go in, you’ll try your hardest. Run, jump, keep away from the others. Kill anyone who you come across. Be ruthless. Get out of there alive. Get married to Kylar.

The Games were to begin the next morning and the thought of it being my last night with Kylar crossed my mind, but I pushed it away. It is a dangerous thought and I was better able to understand then why Kylar was so upset about me saying things like that.

He kissed me as we lay there, and I could tell it was a different kiss. More pressing and more passionate.

“I hated all those people looking at you, while you looked so… sexy,” he whispered between kisses as his hands began to wander to places they never really had before.

“I wish no one had. That’s just yours. You know that, right?” I asked. He maneuvered himself on top of me, deepening his kisses. He had never been so free with them before, and I liked the change even if I realized what it was brought on by. Our potential last chance.

“I love you,” he whispered again, pulling my shirt up.

I sighed and whispered back, “I love, love, love you too.”