I stood and stared at the President in horror. He had to be kidding. I knew he couldn't possibly be serious. Was he really suggesting that I enter the Hunger Games?

"Mr. President...are you serious?"

"Oh yes, Miss Thorne. Deadly serious," President Snow said. There seemed to be a glimmer in his eyes, as though he was enjoying our meeting. "There is no greater punishment than being forced to watch your child fight for their life. Why do you think we enforce the Games on the rebellious Districts? This is something they had earned for themselves. Perhaps your mother has earned it too."

My hands were shaking. I'd told the President I would die for my mother, but killing was another thing entirely. Yes, entering the Games might spare her life, but at the cost of twenty-three others? If I survived, of course.

"Is this really something you are suggesting?"

The President smiled. "Well, it's the only idea I'm considering so far. What are your thoughts, young lady? Would you be willing to try...or do you care much less than you claim?"

The comment made me angrier than I care to admit. I know now that he was trying to wind me up, to get me to make a decision. I knew in my heart that I wouldn't change a thing, but President Snow goading me made me make the decision I did. I folded my arms, staring him down.

"How would it work? Sending me into the arena?"

President Snow smiled. "Well...we could always send you to one of the outlying Districts. We can fix who goes in...it's been done plenty of times before. But with you there, you could give them a chance at winning for once. I've heard from your father that you're quite the little fighter. Wouldn't it be nice if you could win one of those Districts food, supplies, glory?"

I felt so sick that I couldn't respond. I was seriously considering the offer. I closed my eyes and imagined my mother alone, afraid, locked away somewhere in the Capitol. The thought made me tremble. With the betrayal I felt from my father, she was all I had left to care about. It seemed insane to me that only hours before, I was so invested in my birthday party, in fashion, in popularity. In that moment, I saw no value in any of them. All I saw was the potential to save my mother, and I knew I had to take it.

"I'll do what it takes. Just don't hurt her," I told him. The President nodded knowingly and opened the door for me.

"I thought you might say that."

I was made to wait for a long time in the President's house. It felt surreal to be there, to know what was coming for me. It hadn't sunk in that I was going into the arena. I was going to go into the Hunger Games and fight for my life. It was more than I could handle.

But it seemed that I was very much welcome in the President's home. He treated me as an esteemed guest, offering me a place at his dinner table, allowing me to wash and dress in one of his private suites, and even offering me a glass of his finest cherry wine. I took everything he offered, knowing that things were about to change dramatically.

The President kept up pleasant chatter with me, but he refused to answer any of the questions I had about what would happen. There was so much I wanted to know. How was the President going to conceal my identity from everyone I knew in the Capitol? Which District would I be competing for? If I won, would he still let my mother live? There were so many variables that could make his plan a disaster, but he didn't seem concerned. He simply carried on his business as usual.

"What are you waiting for?" I asked after a long time. I was hoping he might answer just one question, and I was right. He turned to me slowly, his snakish eyes bright.

"I'm waiting for your father," he said simply.

His simple answer to me opened up a million more questions in my mind. Would my father let me go ahead with it all? And if so, would he still be a Gamemaker while I was out there, targeted by his weapons of destruction, his schemes and plans, his strategies?

I had to ask myself if he knew about what my mother had allegedly done. Was that the reason he had distanced himself from her for so many years? Had she been doing something unforgivable that he could overlook, but not condone? Only my parents could possibly have the answers to my questions, but I had come to terms with the fact that I might never see my Mom again.

I was desperate to speak to her just once. I needed to know why I was being put in such a dangerous position. Was I sacrificing myself for no reason? Was I fighting her battles when she was actually a cruel and vindictive person?

No. I was certain that even if my mother had done something, she had done it for the right reasons. She wasn't a criminal, or an evil person. She was the one person I trusted completely. And whatever it was she had done, I was happy to die in her place because she never did anything without a good reason.

I think I slept a little while I waited for my father to arrive. There was nothing better to do. I had lost track of time, but waiting was such a bore. When I opened my eyes, the skies outside had grown darker and I could hear voices downstairs. I sat up and stretched before padding along the landing, my heart thudding hard against my chest.

I could see my father and the President at the bottom of the stairs. My father was much taller than him, but somehow, they seemed to be on equal grounds in the way they squared up to one another. I suppose the President was never going to be a sensible person to cross. My father took a deep breath, ready to fight his corner.

"She's done nothing wrong. She should never have gotten herself into this."

"She encouraged it," the President said quietly. "The girl is insistent. She will do anything to protect her mother."

"She doesn't know what she is doing."

"On the contrary...I think she knows exactly what she is doing. She's not stupid. You know I keep an eye on all of the children of my associates. I like to see how they blossom. Your girl is one of the best and brightest. She might have made a quick decision, but she won't change her mind. She is self-assured."
"I think I know my own daughter a little better than you, with all due respect," my father hissed. "I won't allow it."

"You don't have a choice. She's of age. She may do as she pleases. And honestly? Your wife is no good to me dead. How else am I supposed to get information out of her?"

I hid behind a wall, trying to catch my breath. I didn't want them to know I was listening in on their conversation, especially if they might give away more hints about my mother. What information was the President trying to extract from her? What did she know that he didn't?

"I just don't want my daughter to suffer for what she did," my father said quietly. "Please...don't send her to the arena. This year's Games...they are brutal. I'm afraid she won't make it through."
"I guess that's how the Games go," the President said without sympathy. "You should be grateful. There is a chance that both of them will survive. Don't you think that's merciful?"
My father didn't reply. How could he possibly answer a question like that, after all? I slipped away, back to my room. I was certain of a few things; my father had no power to save me. I was going into the Hunger Games without any advantage other than a little training at the Academy. And lastly, the President didn't care if I came out of there dead or alive.

I had to wait at the house for several days. I supposed that the President was making plans about how to get me into one of the Districts unnoticed. I didn't see my father in that time, or hear anything about my mother. All of my electronic devices had been taken from me so I couldn't contact any of my friends. I wondered if they were worried for me. We were in constant contact back then, always messaging each other with the most menial details about our lives. I'd been missing at least three days, perhaps four. It was hard to tell when they all blended into one. They must have been suspicious, but I guess I'll never know.

Then, one day things changed. An Avox came to my door and ushered me to follow her. I dressed quickly and did as she asked. She led me down the stairs to where the President and my father were waiting for me. My father refused to even look me in the eye, but the President was all too happy to stare me down. I was nervous, but I kept my chin up. If I was going to be a Victor in the Games, I would just have to get used to pretending to be confident. I'd fake it until I made it.

"It is time to go," the President said simply. He glanced at my clothes. "Those won't do. You will be given something else by the Avoxes on your way. Say your goodbyes."

I glanced at my father. I knew from what he had told me that tributes had only three minutes to say goodbye to their families and friends as they were shipped off to the Games. I guessed I was one of them by then.

But I didn't really know how to handle my goodbyes. My father seemed intent on keeping his distance from me, and I wasn't in the mood for an emotional moment with him. After all, it seemed he had kept me in the dark about a lot. He hadn't bothered to see me over the days I'd been staying in the President's house. And now, he was happy to let me go off to the Games that he himself had designed. It was like some kind of sick joke, but neither of us were laughing.

"Daddy?"

He didn't even respond when I whispered his name. He simply didn't want to know. I looked to the President whose thin lipped smile made me want to shiver. I wasn't going to stick around if my father wasn't interested. I tilted my chin up and decided then that I was done with him. After all, I could be dead in a few weeks. Why waste my time on someone so closed off from me?

"I'm ready," I told the President. He nodded and two Avoxes came to escort me away, out of the lavish house and onto the cold path to my future.

"May the odds be ever in your favour, Aurelia," he told me. My father still didn't look up as I left. I didn't know where I was going, or what would happen next, but it was safe to say I was terrified. I'd never been given a reason to fear my President until then, but I was starting to see why the Districts followed his rule so blindly. It was obvious that he was capable of scary things, even if he claimed to do them for the right reasons. Was he sending me to the arena for the right reasons - because I wanted to save my mother - or to make us all suffer a little more? I wanted to believe he wasn't an evil man, but as I was taken from the house, it was hard not to believe the worst.

The Avoxes didn't hold my arms hard as they walked me away. I guess they knew I wouldn't run away. I expected to be taken to a car when they took me out of the back of the building, but they veered me to the right, where there was an old looking building. I'd seen trucks transporting goods from there several times, so I supposed I would be taken straight away to one of the Districts.

No such luck. When one of the Avoxes opened the door, a man dressed all in white was waiting, holding up a pair of scissors ominously. It was the first time I struggled - I didn't fancy being killed by some man in the President's backyard - but he simply laughed at me.

"I'm cutting your hair, child," he told me, rolling my eyes. "We can't have you looking like a Capitol reject. You need to fit in."

It was stupid, but at the time, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The idea of having my hair taken away from me felt like a stab in the back. It felt as though I was having my identity taken away from me. Only a little while earlier, I'd been sat in my hairdressers, making small talk about Capitol events and fashion while she dyed my curls and encouraged them to be wild and free. But at that moment, someone was intent on taking all of that from me.

The Avox who still had a hold of me gently sat me down in a chair. I was shaking as though I was about to be brutally murdered. The man with the scissors chortled to himself, snipping them teasingly in my face.

"This is what happens when your mother is a traitor," he said with cruel pleasure. I closed my eyes, trying to lock my tears behind my eyelids, but nothing could stop them from falling freely. I heard the scissors getting to work, and then the buzz of a razor against my scalp. I tried not to cry. I knew I had plenty more reasons to be upset. But in some ways, it was a stark reminder of what was to come. It was the proof that no one cared about my tears. I was going to be dehumanized during my time in the Games. I was going to be kicked down to the same level as those residing in the Districts. I wasn't Aurelia Thorne anymore. I was just another piece in the Games.

The buzz of the razor stopped after a long time. When I moved my head, I could feel how much weight had been lifted from it by the absence of my hair. I missed it already, but I knew it was stupid to get wound up. It was stupid to show how much the action had affected me. In fact, when I stood from the chair with a face set like stone, the man looked disappointed at my reaction. I guess he'd missed the moment he made me cry, and I was glad of it. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. He scowled as he crossed the room and found me a pile of clothes. He shoved them roughly into my arms, and I felt how coarse the material was on my skin. It was of terrible quality, so bad that it made me cringe. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I knew it was somewhere without the silk and satin ball gowns that I was used to.

"Put those on," the man told me harshly. I was shivering as I took off my clothes and changed into the grey jumpsuit I had been handed. I was forced to shove my feet into shoes that didn't fit, even when one of my toes poked out of the end of the left one. I ran a hand over my scalp and found only a light fuzz of hair left behind. There was a lump in my throat, but I held back my tears again. It's going to be okay, I told myself. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay....

"Alright, Princess, time to go," the man said. He donned a Peacekeeper helmet and grabbed my arm roughly. As I looked back, the Avoxes watched me sympathetically. They had known my pain, I realized. They felt sorry for me because they knew what it was like to meet a fate they didn't deserve at the hand of their President. It filled me with anger and hate. As I had my last glimpses of the President's house, I decided I loathed him. If only I had realized it sooner. If only I hadn't been so blind to his ways. I might have done something about it. But either way, I knew that being against President Snow meant death or worse. There was nothing to do, but accept my lot in life.

I was taken back into the yard, where a large truck was being loaded up. The man's grip on me grew stronger, as though he thought I might run, but I still had no regrets. I kept my mother in mind, and it got me past my fear. I was doing it for her, and that was all that mattered.

The man holding me gave me a hard shove toward the truck, and I understood immediately. I was going to my new District in a cargo van. There, I would be unloaded undetected and given a role in the community until the reaping. That way, no one would question where I came from or why I was there. Nothing would be suspicious. If anyone from the Capitol knew of me, they'd keep their mouths shut. They all saw my mother carted off - it made sense that I would be a traitor too, forced into the Games as a punishment. While they watched, they'd pretend we hadn't been classmates at school, or neighbours in the Capitol, or followers of each other's profiles on the internet. They'd use their shame of knowing me to keep them silent. They wouldn't sponsor me. They wouldn't throw me a bone.

I was alone. The President's plan seemed airtight, and there was no going back for me at that point.

I clambered in, struggling a little to pull myself up, but eventually managing to nestle in among the boxes of supplies. It was hot and stuffy in the van, smelling strongly of stale bread. I glanced at the man in panic.

"Where am I going?"

"District 10," the man said simply, and then he slammed the door, leaving me alone among the cargo. Moments later, the van began to rumble as the engine fired up. I was thrown sharply to the side as it set off across the pebbled driveway and I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the new reality I had been handed.