The electric force field throws me back against the cold, hard stone, my hair and clothes singed. My eyes stare wide to the sky, shocked in more ways than one. 

Footsteps patter up the stairs, and someone kneels beside me. Her blonde hair falls into her face as she peers down at me. 

"Shit, are you okay?" she asks, her tone seeming genuinely concerned. 

I close my eyes, unwilling to speak, and the girl shakes my shoulders lightly again, her touch gentle. 

After a moment, I open my eyes, expecting a world of light and sound that will be too much for my brain. 

But no, there is just the girl. Just her and her hazel eyes, her blonde hair, her pale skin, lightly dotted with freckles.

"I..." I say, quietly, and then shut my eyes when the simple word brings a fresh wave of headache to my brain. "No. Yes. Where... what..."

I open my eyes again, looking into her with full certainty. "Am I in the Games? Am I dead yet?"

She's silent for a moment, thinking. "You're Daphne, right? From four?"

A nod is all I can manage. 

"Okay, good." She rises beside me, just enough for her face to no longer be right above mine. "I'm Terra. It's nice to meet you, Daphne. Do you want me to take you to the medical center? It's not far."

The stone wall is right next to me. I lean against it, taking a deep breath and pulling myself up to a sitting position. "No... no. I'm fine. I just..."

Another deep breath. 

"Need a moment. Just another moment. I don't need to go to the medical center."

Really, I don't want them to know that I jumped, don't want to be punished for my misbehavior, but Terra doesn't need to know that. 

She leans against the wall behind her. Now that I'm focusing more on the surroundings, I realize that we are behind the small building that houses the staircase down. On the other side of the roof lies a small garden, which grows flowers and herbs. I don't know why. Maybe someone living here likes gardening, or maybe it's meant to calm tribute's minds. 

Nothing is calming me down right now, certainly not the wild wind whisking above my head and whipping Terra's hair into her face, so I close my eyes. 

"This is fine," I mouth, but don't actually say the words. Terra doesn't seem to notice, and when I follow her gaze, I notice she's looking off into the city. 

I take another deep breath, and my mind slowly begins to clear.

It must be her first time in the Capitol, too. Now that my brain is working right, I remember that she's from District Two. So she wouldn't have visited here before, not that anyone would have, really, apart from goddamn Apollo. 

Still, though. Terra is a career. Really, I technically am one too, being from District Four. But I was never taught anything about surviving in the games. I've grown up with the knowledge of their existence, with my father's stories. But... I never really thought I'd be chosen. Deep down, I thought my Dad would stop it. That if they called my name he would run onstage, knowing the pain I was about to go through, and save me from a gory death. We would run off into the wilderness, never to be found again, but happy. 

It was a sweet, impossible dream, but that life is over now. My father didn't even care when I was chosen. He didn't run onstage. He didn't fight off the peacekeepers, ridicule President Snow on live TV. 

He wasn't even there. 

"Did you jump?" Terra asks, her voice surprisingly steady for her words. Maybe she really is just that used to death, being a career. 

When I glance towards her, she's still looking out to the sky. I'm silent for a moment, judging whether or not I should answer her question. 

"Yeah," I say, quietly, but Terra still looks at me, scanning my expression with such ferocity that I wonder if maybe it's the best idea to be alone with a career, of all people. Fighting before the Games start is only punishable if you're caught. 

But she doesn't start towards me, doesn't throw the first punch. Instead she asks a question, just as quiet as me. "Why?"

I hesitate. Why? I can answer that question in my brain, of course, but with time I've learned that, often, what makes sense in my mind may not make sense in words. 

And yet, I try to speak what my thoughts have made up. "I just... would rather die painlessly, quickly, than die a grisly death by the hands of a murderous child."

She looks genuinely curious. Does she not feel the same? Would she not prefer a quieter death?

"You wouldn't even try to win?"

This time, I don't attempt to meet her gaze, glaring at my socks instead. "No. I wouldn't even try, not if it meant dying in that manner." She doesn't say anything, so I continue. "Besides, I'm going to die anyways--and I'd rather that moment come sooner than later."

Terra looks at me a moment longer, and then glances away, pushing away from the wall, stretching her shoulders unnecessarily. "You're sure you're okay?"

I nod curtly, and she leaves with a last glance over her shoulder, a small smile. "See you in the Games, Daphne."

And then she is gone. 

And oh, how I wish my plot had actually worked. I don't want to see her in the Games. I don't want to be murdered by her, gone insane from trauma. 

Tears well up in my eyes, and I stare towards the sky. So I'll have to be in the Games. 

I should have a strategy, then, right? I wouldn't consider myself bloodthirsty or even strong, so that's ruled out. 

I could just hole up in the corner of the arena, scavenging and foraging for food. That's worked for tributes before. 

Well, to get them to the top two, at most. Those types of people just don't win the final fight. I wouldn't win the final fight. 

The Games are in two days. Those two days will be filled with training and lessons from mentors. I can't say I'm excited.

But maybe... it's my only option.

No, it's not. That's wrong. There is never only one option. 

I don't have to hide in the games. I could pretend to be weak, barely a viable target, and then pick off the tributes from above. I'm adept enough at climbing trees, I think, and I can manage to steal something sharp. 

But I don't think I could end human life, as I've repeated to myself a million times, and so I won't. I would never. 

And yet, is never even an option anymore?