That night, no sleep comes.

It's like my body is unwilling to accept it. I lie amongst the covers on what is probably the most comfy surface I've ever been on, and yet I still can't bring my body to sleep.

It's not really a surprise, though. Tomorrow could well be the date of my death.

And then, randomly, at one point in the night, I just think, I need to get out of here.

The cold night air sends goosebumps spiraling all over my body as I throw the covers off, getting up and slipping my slippers on my feet.

I walk out my room and through the apartment, shivering slightly. I don't know where I'm going, but all that's going through my head is out, out, out...

I end up in the elevator, for some reason. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, but they have guards all around the tribute centre at night, so I can't get out out.

When I get to the ground floor, I step out, and am greeted by a darkened foyer. I'm not by any means calm, but I'm definitely not scared.

Now I'm out my room, I'm just sad.

Before I know it, I'm sitting down on the ground, the marble floor cold beneath me, as I cry my eyes out.

I'm sobbing for Prim, who will never get to see her big sister again.

I'm sobbing for Katniss, who will now carry the burden of getting food for our family on her own.

I'm sobbing for Gale, who I wish to speak to right now more than anything.

I'm even sobbing for myself, though I am at the back of my mind at the moment.

I can't believe Jasper said what he did in the interviews. He raped me when we were thirteen, yet he claimed he'd had a crush on me forever when Ceasar prompted him.

It's not true, I know it's not. I know he was lying, just saying what Haymitch and Andrew prompted him to, but what if he wasn't?

What if he does actually like m-?

"And I thought I was the only one dumb enough to come down here."

I jump as I hear that voice.

His voice.

My head snaps up, instantly connecting with the eyes I know to be a beautiful shade of blue, despite me not being able to see them due to the non existent light.

"Go away," I'm telling him before I can stop myself. My voice carries no threat, however. In fact, I seem scared.

"No," Cato tells me, stepping forward. This leads to me being able to see him slightly better. I still can't see his blue eyes, but I can see the dangerous flicker in them.

I roll my eyes, chuckling slightly as the tears threaten to come again. "Then why the fuck are you here?"

Cato chuckles too, almost grinning at me. "Wanted a little bit of freedom. Y'know, before we're all forced to kill each other."

"You want to kill people," I shoot back. "You said so in the interview."

"You of all people should know everyone puts on a show for the interviews," Cato tells me. "You don't strike me as the type to giggle, Everdeen, even though I've only known you a week."

Him calling me by my last name irritates me, but I suppose he hadn't known it until tonight when Ceasar announced it on live television.

"So do you like a girl?"

The question slips past my lips before I can stop it, and once it's out in the open, there's nothing I can do to take it back.

Then Cato nods. "Yes, Everdeen. I do."

I frown slightly.

Cato looking straight at me doesn't help anything. "Since you asked me that, I get to ask you something."

"What?" I snap.

"Does your little district partner actually have a crush on you, or was he faking that?"

It feels like all the air has been kicked out of my lungs. I have no idea what to do. I can hardly say no, because Haymitch would kill me if I did.

But at the same time, if I say yes, he's going to know I'm lying.

However, despite this, I lower my head and say. "No, he wasn't faking it."

There is then a long pause. Cato is staring at me, I can feel his eyes roll up and down my body slowly, looking at everything in sight. I stay silent and don't look up at him, praying, begging, that he will take the bait.

But then he speaks, his voice low, his tone smug.

"You're lying, Everdeen."

I freeze.

How in the hell did he know that?

"No I'm not," I say after a pause, somehow finding the energy to get up.

"Yes, you are," Cato smirks, taking a step closer to me now we're on the same level. "Don't lie to me again, Everdeen, it doesn't look good on you."

"Stop calling me that, Hadley," I snap, remembering his own name from the interviews.

Cato laughs, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest. "I never thought I'd get to hear you say my last name, Everdeen, and I have got to say, I quite like it."

"Shut up," I snap. Then I say. "How do you know that?"

"That you're lying? It's not hard," Cato grins. "You hate him. It's plain to see."

"Yeah, well there's a reason for that," I mutter venemously, looking down.

Then, before I know it, he's stepping forward. "What did you say?"

I don't look at him. I can't. Because if I look at him, it'll all come spilling out. And that can't happen.

"Nothing," I say, tears spiking my eyes. If I had looked up in this moment, I would've seen his sarcastic expression flicker to one of concern, but I didn't. My eyes are leveled at the ground as I furiously blink the coming tears out of them.

"No you didn't," Cato says instantly.

Then, before I can say anything or stop him, his hands are coming to my face, lifting it up so my slightly teary eyes meet his. His hands are rough and calloused as they hold my face, but somehow I feel comforted by them. He looks at me with concern, though I don't know why on earth that would be happening. Up close, I can see the blue in his eyes is made up of at least fifteen different shades, all blended together. They look even more beautiful close up.

"Did he..." Cato's voice is a whisper. "Did he hurt you?"

Yes.

"No," I lie, avoiding his eyes. As soon as it falls out, I know he's going to know. And he's not going to stop until he knows what happened.

I expect him to call me out, to tell me I'm lying again and be smug.

Instead, his face flickers with anger.

"He did," he mutters, suddenly understanding. His voice is low and threatening, and almost makes me jump. "He fuckig did."

"Cato-"

"What did he do to you?" Cato looks directly at me, still holding my face in his hands.

"Nothi-"

"If you don't tell me right now, Everdeen, I'm going to go and kill him and then we can speak-"

"Why do you even care?"

As I say it, I throw myself from his grip, taking a few steps away from him. He looks at me in confusion and I go on. "Come on! Why the fuck do you care? I'm going to be fucking dead in a few days anyway, so-"

"You're not."

He says it in such a matter of fact way that I falter. He's looking at me intensely, as if trying to see my soul through my skin.

I don't register any of this, however.

"And how do you know?" I ask cautiously, taking a step forward and narrowing my eyes.

Cato studies me.

"Because I'm not letting anyone come near you, Everdeen."

I am so shocked I stumble back slightly, my brain trying to keep up with what the fuck has just happened.

"Why do you suddenly care so much about me?" I question, stepping forward.

Cato shrugs. "You... interest me."

"In what way?"

He chuckles. "Well, it's not normal for a girl from Twelve to take the whole tribute parade by storm. Or for her to insult a boy from Two her first time in the training room. You're very interesting, Everdeen, and you anger me to no end."

"Feeling's mutual, Hadley," I snap. "Difference is, you're not interesting."

That stupid laugh rumbles from his chest again. "Well, I know you think I'm beautiful, so I'll take that."

"That's a nice imagination you've got there, honey," I tell him. "Pity I won't get to see more of it."

"Didn't I just tell you?" Cato looks at me. "I don't know why, but I want to protect you. I feel I need to protect you."

"Why?" I ask in a hiss. "Let me guess, cause I'm the poor little District Twelve girl? Cause I volunteered so my twelve year old sister didn't die?! Cause I called you out for being an asshole, which you a-"

"No, actually, none of those," I was so busy ranting that I didn't notice him getting closer. His face is really close to mine, a muscle in his jaw jumping.

"No," he repeats. "I wasn't going to tell you, because you're right. At least one of us is going to fucking die in the next few days."

"And it's going to be m-"

"But let's just say," Cato's voice is low, threatening and beautiful all at once. "That that boy wasn't the only one talking about liking you tonight."

He's gone before I work it out.

By the time I realise what he was saying, he's probably back in bed in his nice cosy second floor apartment.

I want to scream when I figure it out. Instead, I ball myself up on the floor, sobbing again.

Because the girl he was talking about.

The girl who I thought was just an admirer from Two.

The girl I imagined he'd win for, go home and marry one day.

She's... me.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

The fact that I get any sleep at all is a miracle.

That morning, I get dressed in the outfit they tell me to wear - just basically a chucked version of what we've had in training - then I meet Haymitch. Andrew is taking care of Jasper.

Haymitch leads me down the elevator and out the tribute centre, not talking. He only begins to speak when we are inside it, heading upwards towards where the hovercraft that'll take us to the arena.

"They'll put all sorts of stuff right in front of you, right in the mouth of the Cornucopia, the horn in the centre," he tells me. "There'll even be sets of knives there. Don't go for them."

"Why not?" I frown at him.

He sighs. "It's a bloodbath, they're trying to pull you in, that's not your game. You turn, run, find high ground, look for water, water's your new best friend. Oh, and don't step off that pedestal too early, they'll blow you sky high."

I nod. "I won't."

We start the games around the Cornucopia, all standing stock still on pedestals for sixty seconds. I've only seen one person leave them before the minute is up, and the mines that went off still scare me to this day.

The elevator doors slide open to reveal the outdoors, or just a wide open space where the hovercraft is parked. I only realise I'm supposed to be walking towards it when Haymitch does.

"Sage," he turns to me, his eyes boring into my skin. "You can do this."

Not after what I heard last night, I can't.

"Thanks," I tell him, as he taps my cheek lightly. I smile wryly despite myself. "Any last advice?"

He only shrugs, maintaining my dry tone and witty sarcasm.

"Stay alive."

ఌ︎ఌ︎ఌ︎

"Give me your arm."

We are all sat in the hovercraft, twelve on either side in straight lines, facing each other.

"Give me your arm."

Capitol officials walk down the two lines, asking for us to extend our arms. I watch as Rue timidly does, and a needle is roughly placed and inserted there. She winces, bht doesn't cry out in pain, like another boy does just up from her.

I hear a scoff, and turn to look at where it came from.

Cato is sitting up the top of the line opposite me, and he's smirking like mad. His blue eyes seem to glitter in the dim light of the hovercraft, and his muscular arms are highlighted as they bend when he leans forward.

I quickly avert my gaze.

"Give me your arm."

An official is standing over me now.

"Uh- wh- what is that?" I stutter out, very confused.

She doesn't answer until the needle is inserted. I've never been injected before, and I have to admit it does sting as it slides in, and starts to throb as its removed. I fight against showing any sign of weakness, though, and manage to maintain my calm composure.

Then the woman answers me. "It's your tracker."

Then she moves on.

I sigh. Of course. The gamemakers keep track of all our locations in the arena so they know exactly where to set surprises up.

The lights go completely down in the hovercraft for a second after everyone has been injected, then the lines along the floor and ceiling light up and we start to fly.

Flying. Another thing I've never done.

Getting lots of first experiences in before I go to my death.

ఌ︎ఌ︎ఌ︎

After we exit the hovercraft, I get marched down below the arena by two peacekeepers to a small room where I will enter a tube that'll take me up to my pedestal.

By now, I'm having to actively try not to panic.

I try not to think about how right now in District Twelve, my mother, Prim, Katniss, Gale and his family, will all be getting ready to watch the games. To watch my possible death.

My probable death.

By the time I get shoved into the small room, my head has become a raging battle.

But it all ceases when I see who stares back at me.

I rush to Cinna, hugging him tightly, clinging onto him. He's been the most normal, calm, stable part of this whole twisted thing, and I love him for that.

I don't cry. I don't think I would be able to, I'm so numb, but I do try to express how grateful I am for him, because I'm not expecting to live to tell him.

"Here," he says when we eventually break apart. I frown slightly, wondering what he's going to give me.

I am minorly shocked when it turns out to be my mockingjay pin, which he gently pins to the first layer of my jacket before zipping up the second, so no one will be able to see it in the arena.

"Thirty seconds," an electronic voice says from the speakers. I jump slightly and turn around. It is only then that I realise I'm shaking, my whole body practically vibrating.

Cinna puts a soft hand on my shoulder, reassuring me.

"I'm not allowed to bet, but if I could, I'd bet on you."

I'm not really thinking as he gently kisses my cheek, smiling as he pulls back. I press my forehead to his, desperate to just stay here forever.

"Twenty seconds."

I

pull back, breathing heavily, unsure of what to do, what to think. My eyes catch on the glass tube I'll be rising up in in a short amount of time, and I start to panic.

I try not to think about vomiting before I get in there, just in case I do. My throat burns and my heart pounds, my ears ringing intensely.

"Ten seconds."

As I walk into the tube, it seals. I turn round to face Cinna, needing some comfort before I leave.

He just looks at me, the same as before, and nods.

Then I start to rise.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

Bright light blinds me as the metal plate climbs higher and higher. I can't see anything apart from the whiteness that blocks everything else out.

As my eyes adjust, I see green. Trees, leaves, grass, it all bleeds into the picture.

Then they focus.

We're standing on a grassy plane that seems to be a clearing as well, because all around us, trees stretch high and woods crawl out.

All twenty four pedestals are positioned at equal length apart from each other, and from the Cornucopia, which I now look to. It's a huge golden horn and inside it are weapons galore, as well as survival packs and possible food.

I look around me slowly, at all the tributes. I see Clove, Glimmer, Rue, Thresh, Foxface and Jasper. But no Cato. He must be on the other side, she horn blocking him from my view.

Then my eyes flick back to the weapons, and I see a set of knives there. They look just like the daggers my father owns, the ones I know to still be hidden in that hollow tree in my woods.

"Forty nine, forty eight, forty seven-"

As I tune into the countdown, I realise I have missed the first eleven seconds staring at my fellow tributes and the weaponry choice.

I can hear Haymitch's voice in my head.

"

It's a bloodbath, they're trying to pull you in, that's not your game."

But yet, I don't expect to survive these games, so why shouldn't I go for the knives? That's a chance to get a weapon that can provide me with food, and (though I don't want to admit it) kills.

"Thirty nine, thirty eight, thirty seven, thirty six-"

I know at home, everyone in Twelve will have gathered in the square, expecting to see both their tributes killed by the end of the bloodbath.

I can't deny that that could be the truth.

"Twenty eight, twenty seven-"

And my mother and Prim and Katniss will be among them, or maybe at home, sitting and watching on the small, crappy television we have, only for watching the games.

"Twenty four, twenty three, twenty two-"

And Gale, he'll be watching. Or perhaps he won't be. Perhaps he'll be out in the woods, sitting at our usual spot, picking grass and clenching his fists. He'll be risking public execution if he does that, but I don't suspect he'll care.

"Thirteen, twelve, eleven-"

By the time ten seconds hits, I'm not even listening. Each heartbeat is my counter.

Ten

Shit, I'm not ready for this, I can't do th-

Nine

Should I go for the knives? Should I directly disobey Haymitch?

Eight

I could get killed very easily if I run in there, but I could also get rewarded.

Seven

Katniss would say I should.

Six

Prim would scream and say not to.

Five

Gale would laugh and ask why I was even talking.

Four

I don't know what to do.

Three

I don't know how to breathe-

Two

My body's shaking, my whole entity on the verge-

One.