​​Amaranth lets out an awfully high-pitched scream. The whole room turns into panic. Nurses are rushing in, as Amaranth coughs up pools of thick, red, blood. Some tributes are in a state of shock, while others are talking about us.

"Concher?". I look at him, with a pained expression. "Wh-what did you do?"
He snarls. "I did what they deserved."
I reach out my hand to help Amaranth up, but instead she knocks it away. "I don't need help from you, you pesky 4."
My pride is definitely wounded. What does being 4 have to do with this? And then I realize. The hatred for each other in the districts runs deep. We kill each other's children. But it's not them who are the enemy. 4 and 9. They've never had a problem with us. The only problem is the one that the Capitol created.

I pull Concher back and whisper in his ear. "They are not your enemy."

If I said this to anybody else here, they would assume I'm trying to not make any enemies in the arena. But Concher understands what I'm saying. The real enemy. The one who starves our children and forces them to fight in a gruesome arena. The one who beats us and shoots us and rules us in this oppressive word. There is only one enemy here. And it's the Capitol.

Concher nods and then backs away. We walk over to Octavia who is still in the midst of stupefaction.

"God! We should be grateful that the audience didn't see that!'.

Octavia then smacks Concher on his face. "That is no way to treat anybody! Manners, children! Manners!".

Concher raises his eyebrow and touches his cheek. "Did you just slap me? You Capitol clown!".

Gasps fill the room. "Concher... calm down."

Octavia bursts into tears. "Capitol CLOWN?!". That is no way to treat someone of my status!"

I roll my eyes and before Concher does something reckless, a doctor stabs him with a needle and sends him under the influence of high-end Capitol drugs.

"I'm so sorry Octavia."

Octavia puts her hands in front of my face. "Darling, I can't stand this anymore!"

I'm escorted by Tigris upstairs as I look down at my crystal blue slippers. It feels like ages ago, me in that dressing room. Things can escalate quite fast, I guess. Tigris is wearing a pink velvety dress, another one of her beautiful creations. She opens her arms and I jump into them. A tear rolls down my cheek. "Oh Tigris. When will it be over?", I ask. She just pats my head. "It's okay, Mags.".

Sitting in my room, I gaze at the Capitol view. All the fancy lights and cameras. Action. Whoever left the world like this is sure a bad person. Maybe it wasn't in their control. I look at the window. It's open, I could escape. I remember last year, when the District 2 guy tried to escape. They captured him and hung him in the arena. Honestly, I hope my death is graceful and not too bloody. For my family.

I fall onto the bed, with soft feather-filled pillows and silky blankets. My eyes turn to the tabletop. And lying there, a dagger with a handle made out of snake-green jade. A suicide machine. I immediately recognize who put it there and make my silent thank-yous. I stand up and grab the dagger, place it on my throat. As I am about to drag it down, somebody bursts through the door.

I turn, it's Octavia. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Um-, uh-". I try and think of an excuse. "Just practicing my knife skills."

"God, where did you get it from?"

"Sponsor."

Octavia laughs. "Looks like they're already stocking supplies. Well I'll have that knife." She lays her palm out and I place the knife on it.

"Yeah.", I say, following with an awkward, obviously faked laugh.

"Well better get to bed! Get my beauty sleep. We have a big day tomorrow. Training!"

I nod. "Good night."

She closes my compartment door and I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe it was fate for Octavia to stop my suicide attempt. I stare at the wall, using my finger like I'm drawing on the roof. I draw a little star and think about the night sky in 4.