After dinner, which was just Austin and I getting congratulated again and again on the parade, I head back to my room. There, I would've just gone to sleep if I hadn't noticed a little remote on my bedstand. I picked it up, noticing it to be of the same type of the tiny TV remote we have at home. We only use it to watch the games and mandatory Capitol viewings.

I press a button on the remote and suddenly what I had, up until then, judged to be a normal window, changed scenes. It now depicted a snowy field. I tilted my head to the side as I clicked the button again, changing the scene to a burning desert. It didn't look inviting, so I changed it again.

And all of a sudden it changed to about the only place I've ever been happy.

Luscious green woods appear on the screen, with trees to climb and (most likely) game to hunt. I walked towards it unconsciouly, it was slowly pulling me in. I remember when Gale, Katniss and I would talk about running away, just like my idiot yet brilliant brother had said on the morning of the reaping.

How was that only two days ago?

Thinking about all this made me feel stupid. I'm not going home, and even if I was, I would be changed. I would be a pariah, an outsider.

I changed the window back to the original scene, jumping into bed. Wishing with all my heart to be home.

☘︎☘︎☘︎

"In two weeks, twenty three of you will be dead. One of you will be alive. Who that is depends on how well you pay attention to these few days."

Before the games even starts, all the tributes get a chance to train. The tribute centre has a big training room in it, with knives, bows, arrows, swords, spears, tridents, and, most importantly, axes.

"Particularly to what I'm about to say," Atala, the woman who runs the training, says. "First; no fighting with the other tributes, you'll have plenty of time for that in the arena," she chuckled.

I see the boy from District Two (I hear someone call him Cato) looking at me again. I turn away and tune back in to Atala.

"There are four compulsory exercises, the rest will be individual training. My advice is; don't ignore the survival skills. Everybody wants to grab a sword but most of you will die from natural causes. Ten percent from infection, twenty percent from dehydration. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife."

She dismisses us to go train but before I do, I cast a glance upwards. There, the people that everyone calls the 'Gamemakers' (the people who make life hell for us in the arena, basically) are watching us. I narrow my eyes at them as I go over to the knot tying station.

I quickly make the trainer at the station, Tax, very impressed. I show him my knowledge for snares (Gale's the best at those) and a few other traps. He then teaches me a few more before I move stations.

I go to the 'monkey bars', where you can practice core strength and see the boy from District Nine fall there and hurt his knee. I feel bad for him, though, as the careers mock him. I get through it without falling.

Soon I'm at the hand to hand combat station, standing in front of the two career girls, who I soon find out are called Clove, the girl from District Two who throws knives, and Glimmer (ridiculous name), the girl from District One that, to my horror, throws axes. I get all of this information by eavesdropping, though, I'm not talking to them.

Soon it all kicks off. Cato from Two suddenly yells. "Jason, where's my knife?" He grabs the boy from District Six.

"I didn't take your knife!" Jason yells back.

"You took my knife!"

"I never took your knife!"

"Yes you took my knife!"

"I didn't touch your knife!"

"You took MY knife!"

People rush in to pull them apart but Cato keeps shouting. "You better watch your back kid!"

Suddenly, I hear the boy from District Eleven laughing and looking upwards. I follow his eyes to the little girl from Eleven, up in the rafters, holding a long, sharp, hunting knife.

"Actually, better yet, I'll wait for the arena, you're the first one I get so watch your back?" Cato finally pipes down. I take one last glance at him before heading back towards another station.

☘︎☘︎☘︎

"He's a career," Haymitch tells us later, at dinner. "D'you know what that means?"

"From District One, Two, and Four," I answer. Austin just sits there

Haymitch nods. "They train in a special academy 'till they're eighteen, then they volunteer. By that time, they're pretty lethal."

He tilts his head as he shovels potato into his mouth.

"But they don't receive any special treatment, in fact, they stay in the same apartment as you do, and I don't think they let them have dessert, and you can!" Effie really wasn't helping.

"So how good are they?" Austin asks unsurely.

"Obviously pretty good, they win it almost every year..." Haymitch says, shoveling in yet more food.

"Almost," Effie enunciates Haymitch turns to me.

"I hear you're pretty good with axes."

"I'm alright," I shrug.

"She's better than alright," Austin says. "My father buys her squirrels. He says she hits them right between the eyes every time, so the best meat is never ruined."

This assessment from Austin completely takes me aback. He's bullied me from day one, and now he's helping me?

"Austin's strong," I say instinctively. "He can throw a hundred pound sack of flour right over his head, I've seen it."

This is true. The Thatchers are one of the two families that run the bakery in Twelve. They and a family I think are called the Mellark's. I've never been in the bakery, but once or twice when I've been out with Prim, she's dragged me over there to admire the beautiful frosted cookies.

"Okay but I'm not gonna kill anyone with a sack of flour," Austin's comment brings me back to life.

"Yeah but you might have more chance of winning if someone comes after you with a knife-"

"I have no chance of winning!" Austin yells, silencing me. "None, alright?"

I look at him once more and this time, don't see the boy that teased me all my life, I see pain and fear and the boy that saved me.

"You know what my mother said?" Austin looks down in shame. "She said District Twelve might finally have a victor, but she wasn't talking about me. She was talking about you."

Another suprise. His father, I know, he's the one that buys, as Austin said, my squirrels. His mother, however, I know to be a hostile, bad tempered witch. How they married, I don't know.

Austin pushes his chair out. "I'm not very hungry."

As I watch him go, I finally recount probably the only time (until now) that he was nice to me.

My father had died in a mine accident a few months previously... Gale was out in the woods, hunting every day to feed all of us... I wanted to help, but he shoved me away. He wanted the time alone.

I put up with this until one day... I really wanted to go into the woods and practice throwing my axes... Gale said no, and, in his anger, let slip the line that I'll never forget he said.

"Father's DEAD, WILLOW! DEAD! There's nothing we can do about it! I need to feed the family and you- go and play a game!"

"Oh, yeah, how about the Hunger Games?" I had retorted sarcastically.

"Well they wouldn't be so bad at the moment!"

Gale slowed down and seemed to catch up with what he had just said. I blinked tears out of my eyes.

"No, no, I didn't mean-"

"Yeah?" I cried. "Well it sure seemed like it!"

With that, I ran out the house. I sprinted through the Seam, desiring nothing more than to get away from it.

Eventually, I arrived in the merchant's section of town. I was still running, tears streaming down my face at the thought that my brother wanted me to die.

I was running so fast, I didn't see the big lorry full of peacekeepers coming down the road. I didn't hear the sound of the engine, or the boy that I had long since dismissed, imploring me to stop. Yelling at me, trying to help me.

"WILLOW! GET OUT OF THE WAY! Willow!"

I was inches from the lorry when I felt a sharp shove and the impact on my body. I looked up and saw a distressed Austin above me.

I wasn't sure if I'd imagined this, because the second I looked back, he was gone. The impact of the fall had knocked most of the air out my lungs, but I still remembered the look of pure fear in his eyes that I was going to get ran over.

That was the only moment that I felt like someone outside my family and the Everdeens loved me and would care for me.

"I'm done too," I quickly exit the table, wanting nothing more than to get away from mass confusion and the people that were fuelling it.

☘︎☘︎☘︎

Back in the training room, I watched Cato devour three plastic dummies that were used for sword practice. It becomes clear to me that this is his skill. His speciality.

I watch jealously at their sureness of getting weapons from the Cornucopia (the place in the arena where all the weapons are stored), whilst I'm trying to make a bow from wood. Yes, my preferred weapon is an axe, but there's no guarantee that I'll get one, and if I don't, I'll have to have something to hunt with.

Next, I see the boy from District One, throwing a spear right into the heart of a target person. I grit my teeth and turn to the Glimmer, the girl from One. She has a few small axes in her hand, and I yearn to hold them for myself.

Though, when she starts to throw, it's clear she just picked a weapon and went with it. She doesn't hit the centre of the target once, and I know I would the whole time.

However, the other female career, Clove from Two, is a born killer. She sets up a course on the target range, making targets light up for her. One lights up on her left and she hits it in the middle. The same for the right. For the finale, she spins on her heel and throws the last knife over her shoulder. It's perfect.

I see Austin climbing a net across the room, but as soon as it flips, he falls to the ground, wincing as he does. I run over to him.

"Throw that metal thing over there," I say, gesturing to one of the heaviest round weights in the room.

"What? No, Haymitch told us we're not supposed to show our skills," he instantly says. This is true. Haymitch decided to tell us not to show our skills so the other tributes won't know what we're good at in the arena.

However, I continue. "I don't care what Haymitch said. Those idiots over there are looking at you like you're a meal."

I move away as Austin struggles to get up. He walks towards the weights and slowly but surely picks up the heaviest one. The careers are still mocking him and laughing at him. I watch as he roars, chucking the thing over his head and at some spears. They fall out of their slots on the holder and cause a clatter.

This has an effect on the careers, because, as Haymitch said, arrogance can be a problem. I look over at their shocked faces as Austin stares back at me, half shocked, half relieved.