Today's schedule: training from nine A.M. to noon, and then judging by the Gamemakers.

The scores will be released tomorrow, also at noon, and at seven A.M. the next day, the Games will begin. 

It's all too soon, but I can't halt any of the moving parts that have worked perfectly for decades. I could throw myself into the mass of gears, hoping to clog them at least a little bit, and do nothing. 

So why try?

I know I'm being stared at all through training. I'm not doing much, just practicing my javelin throwing, just in case--but every time I glance around, I feel someone's gaze slipping away.

Who is it? One person, intent on my early death, or everyone in this room knowing I'm an easy target?

I walk over to Apollo, gaining a false sense of security with his welcoming smile. "Hey, Daphne!"

Is he really happy to see me?

"Hey," I play along, because what else would I do? He's my District partner, and I don't need anyone--maybe another one--against me. 

He's tying knots. Glancing down at the rope in his hand, I notice how bad his work is. 

He's lived in District Four most of his life. I had a pretty privileged life, I will admit that, but I still know how to tie a decent knot. Does being from the Capitol, born somewhere that you haven't visited since, really change a person that much?

For a normal person, no. For egotistic Apollo, yes. 

Though, if I were born somewhere like the Capitol, I'm sure I'd brag about it, too. 

***

I get a four. 

It's the only thing I can think about as I lay in bed, paralyzed from fear and hopelessness. 

Sure, going into the test I knew I wouldn't get that high of a score--I'm no good with any sort of weapons--but that small voice in the back of my head, the one with hope, told me I'd do amazing. 

It lied. I will not be the talk of the Capitol tonight. I will be overlooked, thrown away like an uneaten loaf of bread that's beginning to mold. 

I shut my eyes tight; pull my bedsheets up to my chin. The darkness on the back of my eyelids blots out the world. 

At seven tomorrow, the Games will begin. 

I will be woken up at five, readied by my prep team, and sent off into the arena to face my imminent death. 

Sleep evades me, but eventually, I find it, lurking in the corner of my headspace, a monster ready and willing to strike. 

And when I am finally consumed by the darkness that is exhaustion, it does. 

***

A voice sounds out from everywhere around me; loud and deep and female. It counts down from sixty, marking out the seconds to my death. 

Around me, tributes wearing the same outfits yet different expressions are glancing around at eat other, gauging the skill level of everyone. I feel several gazes land on me, bouncing away quickly. 

The countdown sounds off, and the landmines in the ground are disarmed. 

Every tribute in the arena charges towards me; even Apollo.

Many pick up weapons on their way, brandishing swords and knives and spears. 

Apollo is the first to reach me, Terra right behind him. Apollo's fist slams into my chin, sending me flying backwards. Terra has a knife. 

It impales itself into my chest, and yet, there is no pain. 

With the hilt still sticking out of my stomach, I run. 

No use in taking it out--I could bleed to death, and if it doesn't hurt, it must not be that bad. 

A spear stabs me in the back, right beside my spine, and I fall. 

Suddenly they are all around me, forming a massive crowd I can't escape. More join, people from my District, people from the Capitol. They reach out towards me with bloodlust in their eyes, knives gripped so tightly in their fists their knuckles are bleached white. 

I scream, the sound echoing through the arena, birds rising from trees in one swift motion. As one, they also set their sights on me. 

Deer, rabbits, wolves, all bound from the trees, towards the group of people, towards me. 

I am a target. I am the target. Everyone here is set on murdering me. 

I fall to the ground once again, a foot stomping my face into the muddy ground. 

My eyes close, but I force them open. 

And then they are gone. The arena is gone, the tributes are gone, the murderous animals are gone. 

I stare into my silk pillowcase, noting my harsh breathing. 

Rolling over in bed, I stare into the darkness, seeing nothing but monsters. The time on my bedside clock reads 4:56 A.M. 

Soon, Coira will come to wake me up. 

And yet, I don't want to lay here any longer. I will go find her. 

I stand, flicking on the lights as I pass the switch on my way to the door. When I open it I find my mentor, poised to knock. 

"Daphne!" she says, voice unnaturally bright and airy--I wonder what the Capitol did to her, during her stay. Was she always like this? Was her new voice a choice, or forced? "You're awake!"

I smile, faking it completely. "Yeah. I'm, uh, awake. Is it time?"

She knows what I'm trying to say. "It is. I'll bring you down--your prep team's waiting."

They crowd around me as I enter the room, inspecting my bedhead and the dark circles beneath my eyes. Coira leaves with a final hug and a whispered "Good luck," and although it's not confirmed, I know this is the last time I will see her. 

So, despite my feeling like jumping off the roof yet again just for a few more minutes of sleep, I hug her back, whisper in her ear how helpful she's been in these few short days. 

Then, I am waxed yet again, every little bit of hair not on my head taken from my body and told not to grow back. They oil my hair with sweet-smelling serums and then weave it into an elaborate braided updo that seems sturdy enough to hold up for a few days, at least. I am lathered in lotion until I'm sure my skin will never be dry again. 

A meal is delivered, some sort of soup with a side of bread and a bowl of fruit, and Thetis enters. She smiles at me. "Hey, Daphne. Nice to see you again."

I smile with closed lips, mouth full of precious, precious food. I will need all I can get before the next few weeks. 

She pokes around the room for a few minutes before finding a small box on top of a wardrobe. 

I start. It's Shan's. 

Swallowing quickly, I probe Thetis about it. "Where did you get that?"

Thetis smiles yet again, handing it to me. I open it quickly, finding the beautiful telescope inside in perfect condition. "An Avox found it on the roof, and I looked through the footage, trying to find who went up there and left it there."

I shudder. I must have dropped it, leaving it forgotten completely when Terra arrived. 

"You know," Thetis says, voice suddenly quieter, "there are cameras everywhere here. Even on the roof."

She winks, and then returns to her normal self. "Anyways, here's what you're wearing. I know it's boring, but it should be practical enough."

She holds up a dark green shirt, a black coat that looks pretty thin yet sturdy, a black pair of durable-looking pants, and brown boots. 

All in neutral colors. I put them on, admiring myself in the mirror for what may be the last time. Thetis looks me up and down. 

"Okay, they're not horrible," she says, mainly to herself. I nod. "At least they're not extremely baggy--gives you a bit of shape, the Capitol will like that."

The Capitol is full of unnatural body standards made reality. This year, it is a skinny figure with an especially tiny waist. I'm not extremely skinny, having been well-fed throughout my life, but my Dad has a high metabolism and I've inherited that. I'd say my waist is pretty average, but with a bit of help from Capitol clothes I can fit the standards well enough. 

"...and I hate to say it, but the black will help with camouflage," Thetis continues, "during night, if you have to be in a cave or dark forest, whatever. Don't lose the coat. The green's pretty dark, but you will get cold."

I nod along, barely listening. "Okay."

Thetis pauses, tired of her lecture, and pulls me into a tight embrace. 

The clear tube behind us begins to beep, counting down from ten. I step towards it, taking a deep breath. 

5... 

4... 

3...

I'm inside it, watching glass close in front of Thetis, except it is not only her who is waiting in my small prep room, it is the entire life I have left behind. The entire life I will never get back, even if I win. 

My father stands at the front, staring me in the eyes as my tube is lifted into the ceiling. 

He did this too, at some point. 

And yet he wasn't even at my reaping. 

I close my eyes in an attempt to will away the tears, but it doesn't work.