To my own surprise, I slept pretty well last night. I fell into dreamland as soon as my head hit the pillow, but then the daylight just had to interrupt by waking me back up, and reminding me that today I'm going into the arena.

I glance at the clock. It's 7:30. I can wait another good five minutes, right? I close my eyes again and am about to start snoozing again, when a person suddenly yanks my covers off and snaps,

"Get up and change!"

Katniss points to the outfit on my table and leaves, just to yell at the other tributes to wake up. I hear grumbles from Benjamin and even loud sobbing from Brooke. I also pick up Katniss's annoyed complaints as she wakes Alistair up for the second time.

My outfit is a white, stretchy body suit with black pants. I easily slip it on and join everyone else at the dining table. Like always, Brooke is crying her eyes out, head buried in the tablecloth, while Ben and Alistair are concentrating in their food. Except this time, they should be since this is probably the last actual meal all of us will eat.

By the end of ten minutes, I don't know more many pancakes I've stuffed into my mouth, but Alistair seems even more engaged in the fried rice he had ordered. (A/N: All hail the wondrous fried rice dude!) 

Brooke glances at her wrist, and I see a delicate golden watch sitting on it. That must have come from her home, looking how she's protectively stroking it's shining carved features. That reminds me; where's the picture Caleb drew me?

I dash back to my room and check everywhere: The bed, the closet, the bathroom. Not one of those places have the drawing. Quick, check again! I think. I kneel down on the floor.

"Celestia! Time to leave!" Katniss yells.

For the first time in almost forever, hot tears sting my eyes. I'll be entering the arena and I won't even have my memory of home with me. Just great. Sighing, I walk in.

Four tall, burly men are now standing there, no emotion on their solid faces. One of them motions to Brooke, and she gets up quietly, following him out the room.

"Alistair, you'll be going with Tim." Tim, the oldest-looking of all three left, raises his hand and leads Alistair out. 

Then, the one with curly brown hair pulls Benjamin away too. I'm about to follow the last one, when Katniss calls, "Celestia." I turn back.

The ghost of a smile wavers around her lips. "I'll be counting on you."

Grinning nervously back, I continue into the elevator with the man. We get out on the roof, where an airplane is waiting. I walk in and take my seat, which is the one closest to the end of the aircraft. 

There are no other people here besides the tributes. I look down at my wrist in confusion.

"They already did the trackers last night," the smart looking boy from Beetee's group says. He's sitting directly across from me. "You were probably asleep already, but I felt it." I stare at him, not blinking, receiving a smirk.

Scarlett is the last one to enter the plane. She sends me a quick smile, and then we take off. All the lights go out, but I feel like I can still see everyone and what they're doing even in the pitch darkness.

Once the plane lands, I feel my ears pop, adjusting to being on the ground again. A peacekeeper leads me to a room where my stylist is waiting.

"Your shoes are untied," is the first thing Hiro says to me when he sees me. He kneels down and does them, then starts working on my hair quicker than a field mouse.

"A braided bun?" I ask when he's done.

"Yeah. You can still have style even in the arena, right?"

I allow a small smile to slide onto my face. "Yeah, I guess." Taking a deep breath, I step into the glass tube that'll send me to my platform. My teeth are chattering so hard, I almost don't hear the speakers pronouncing, "Thirty seconds 'til launch."

Then those thirty seconds become twenty.

And those twenty become ten.

And those ten become one.

I press my hands to the side of the tube as hard as I can, breathing steadily to the quick escalating of the machine. In no time, the tube disappears and I find myself standing on a platform, on the edge of a mountain.

That's right, a mountain. Did I mention that I hate heights? I'm probably going to die falling off, if not by the hands of another vicious tribute. At least the cornucopia is just like the other normal ones, metal with weapons and survival tools. If I reach it, I think I'll grab my bag, and also a couple knives and a slingshot. There might not be a camouflage kit, though.

The seconds are passing quicker and quicker as a voice softly announces them. "30 ... 29 ... 28 ..." My heart pounds harder within every number called out.

I think about how my mother and brother back at home are reacting to this. My mom must be terrified out of her mind right now, and little Caleb probably thinks this is just some type of fun TV show I magically starred in. He has no idea this is real.

"5 ... 4 ... 3 ..." Wait, what? Without any further ado, I bend down a little, poised to start running.

"2 ... 1 ... Happy Capitol Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

My legs leap off the platform like they have a mind of their own, and hesitate for a while, only allowing me to see the hurried determination of all the other tributes as they run for supplies, fight others, and-yes-get killed. I'm not actually that frightened; I've already replayed this scene in my head over and over again during the past few days.

Cannons go off faster than ever, more people falling to the ground. Where do I go? Wildly, I scan around the area. Is there anywhere I can hide, or ...? Yes, there!

Legs taking off again, I run towards a shaded area around the back full of trees. I find a tall, thick one full of dark, shady leaves, and start pulling myself up. The last time I climbed a tree was when I was only seven-years-old. Blood swirling, I don't stop until I'm perched on the top of a large branch. Hugging the trunk, I observe what's going on.

Scarlett is still in the midst of the battle, pushing blades into peoples' chests and punching them, when suddenly a boy who I think is from her group pins her down, his large frame leaning over her. He's about to send a blow when she digs a knife into his hand, releasing herself from him. Good one, Scarlett! A voice cheers inside my head.

However, another boy-this one even larger and stronger-gets her inside a headlock. Now I'm worried; Scarlett has almost nothing to do now. But then she releases herself from his grip, and then jumps of the mountain?! I hear a loud splash from down there. So there's a lake. Maybe I'll get water from there.

The boy scans around, then calls for his group. They take whatever they want from the cornucopia, and leave. I wait another good five minutes to see if anyone else is there. No one.

I silently scoot down the tree, walking to the cornucopia. Picking up a bag and a couple weapons, I'm about to leave myself when a loud, haggard voice cries,

"Stop it and just stand still already! I'm about to kill you!"

Whipping around, I find myself face-to-face, or rather face-to-knife, with Benjamin. Although he's no more than thirteen-years-old, just like me, it's the crazed evil swirling in his eyes, and that twisted grin that frightens me the most. I guess the fears of the bloodbath have gotten into him.

He raises his arm, and then my hand raises itself, releasing the blade it had been holding for only seconds, but is sticky with sweat already. The knife neatly plants itself in his head, and Ben falls.

BOOM. 

That was the first kill I personally committed ever in my whole life. 

After warily glancing around for any more tributes, I sling my pack, along with the slingshots and knives, on my back and walk to the edge of the mountain.

Just looking at the sight makes me dizzy. My head is swirling with fear, and I have to remember how to breathe again. "Only this time," I tell myself.

I place myself in a backward position, gripping my hands tightly at the edges and placing my feet below them. Then, I move my hands, then move my feet. After what seems like an eternity, I'm still barely a few feet from the top. I feel like I'm about to vomit. There's only one thing to do, and that is to ... on one, two, three ...

My limbs pry themselves off the mountain as hard as they can, and then I'm falling. Wind rushes through my body and into my hair, and I might even have found myself laughing, but all the joy ends when I'm enveloped in gentle, cold water.

Doggy-paddling to the edge, I pull myself up and find a tree in the middle of a forest to sleep in. I close my eyes and go out cold again, but only wake up to some artificial brightness in the sky.

The faces in the air show that Brooke had died, and Ben, obviously. I don't pay attention to the rest, but it's reassuring that about half the tributes have died, but none of them was Scarlett. 

Something sharp and paper-like jabs in my pocket, and I pull out a piece of paper. Confused, I unfold it only to see the crayoned picture of my smiling family with Caleb's name on the top. A smile makes its way on my face.

I'm pretty sure I was still wearing that smile as I fell asleep.