"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

Sixty seconds. That's all I've got before the gong sounds and I'm released into a war. Anyone who steps ff early gets penalized with death by having their legs blown off immediately.

For the first fifteen seconds, I frantically whip my head around, seeing things, but failing to observe them intently and absorb every detail in my brain. For the next five, I calm myself and my already rapid breathing. Then, with what little composure I have left, I scan the tributes and find Gale who is all the way across from me on the other side. He meets my eyes and mouths to me the same words he always did at the reaping,

You okay?

My breath hitches in my throat as I turn my head aside, breaking our gaze because I know I'm not, and right now is not a time to start lying to each other.

We are currently on a flat, open stretch of ground. To my right there is a wide lake, something that is necessary for my survival and which I take careful note of. Behind it, I cannot see anything, and it's possible that beyond this lake there isn't anything. When I whip my head around to look behind me, I again see nothing that will make the direction special which indicates there is a steep downward slope -or possibly a cliff- which could be a dead end. I know one thing, I won't be going there. Looking to my left, there is a large piney woods which wraps around the back of the Cornucopia all the way to meet the far edge of the lake. I can't help but feel relieved because the woods seem much like district twelve's. That, I think to myself, is where I'll be going.

The Cornucopia is even larger than I always saw on my puny television screen at home the past years. And more intimidating, to say the least. It's a beautiful gold color. The kind of gold my mockingjay pin is. The hue of the sky when the sun is setting while Gale and I sit and watch it at home in the meadow. And I wouldn't doubt for a second that this thing of death is real gold because that's something they would do. The Capitol. They'd do it to remind us of how fortunate they are as a large handful of "pieces" in their games die a slow, painful death.

The shape of the Cornucopia is sort of interesting. The best way I can describe it is a giant horn-shaped cone with a curved tail. Inside it lies supplies that are extremely useful. Each tribute is equidistant to the Cornucopia and our places where we stand were chosen by random draw. That way, no one gets an unfair disadvantage since the deeper you get into the Cornucopia, the more valuable the weapon and someone closer to the Cornucopia would clearly get to it faster. Though, I only have myself content on getting one particular thing. And right there, in the spotlight of the sun above, I see the glint of silver sparkle. After examining it quickly, my mind processes that it's just what I need. A beautiful bow and its sheath of arrows.

I look back toward Gale and his attention is already on me. I then quickly look toward the Cornucopia and back so that he knows it's where I'm going. He flashes me a fallen expression. One full of pity and worry and sorrow. But it only last for a second before he replaces it with a bold, strong, courageous expression on his face. He looks so brave standing there, and striking too as his black hair blows sharply in the light breezy weather. And the black clothes he's dressed in suit his olive skin. Though this is no time to start admiring his handsome features. I need to focus.

I watch his eyes as they travel downward to look at his metal plate before he looks back up at me. He's showing me where he will go as well. Nowhere. I start to shake my head slowly and as calmly as possible. It's as if I think this is actually going to change his mind. That's when the gong sounds.

Everyone takes off a second before me. I curse myself immediately for getting distracted and am even a bit peeved at Gale for being the distraction. From now on, every second counts. But, it isn't too hard to catch up with everyone else and eventually I'm ahead of them. My heart is pounding rapidly in my chest and my mind feels like it's fogging up, but I just concentrate on the one thing I need.

I arrive at the Cornucopia just after the Careers do -the blood thirsty killers.- I pause for a moment, making sure to keep a good distance from them, but before I know it, knives are flying in my direction. I dodge most of them with ease, but there's one, just one that cuts straight through my left arm forming a fair gash before it's flying into the boy on my right's heart.

The encounter takes me aback a bit and I come back to my senses just in time to see the Career girl to my left swing another knife in my direction. I duck, roll, and quickly recover on my feet. I run some more before coming to a halt again just to watch in shock as innocent kids are murdered to death right before me. I feel tears accumulate in my eyes. They sting badly and threaten to pour, but I resist the temptation to let them fall. I have to keep moving.

To my right, I spot a bright orange bag and no predators surrounding it. So I run as fast as my shaking legs will carry me toward it. I ignore the searing pain in my arm and my pounding heart and the tears that are on edge. I just reach the bag and grab it before I'm mindlessly swinging it over my shoulder and running at full speed to those bow and arrows. I dodge some more weapons and fists and feet and bodies attempting to tackle me to the ground. Before I know it I've gotten there, but not alone.

Before me stands a boy. I can't quite remember which district he's from, but I guess it doesn't matter at the moment. In his right hand he has a spear and just as he's raising it to make his kill, a spear whizzes past my head and rides straight into his stomach. He falls to the ground and I watch in shock. Part of me wants to stay with him during his last seconds of life. The boy is small. Fifteen at the most. But, then I realize that the same person who just killed this kid is probably aiming at me also.

I grab my weapon and sidestep swiftly to my left. And, right when I do so, I feel a hand on my shoulder and whip my head around to see Gale smirking at me in a breathless heap. I study his sweaty face and then wonder how long he'd sat on his metal plate before he decided to play the game.

"Stay here with her and be careful Catnip. I'll be right back."

I look at the girl who I hadn't noticed was standing by his side until now. The one he told me to stay with.

"I'm Clara," she says to me. I watch as she raises a bow that she'd gotten somewhere and shoots at a girl who appears to be running confidently toward us with a trident in hand. She's wonderful with a bow. It shoots straight through that girls heart.

"It's kind of hard to introduce myself when we're-"

"Duck!" she shouts, cutting me off and so I do. Afterward, I glance over ahead of me beyond Clara still crouched and shaking with fear to see an ax buried deep into a harmless girl's neck. I go wide-eyed as I watch the blood pour out of the vein that the ax cut right through. That was almost me, I think to myself and shudder at the thought. So I decide to trust Clara just for now.

"C'mon Catnip," I hear a familiar voice say behind me. I know it from anywhere. I stand up quickly, getting my head back in the game and turn around to see Gale. He stands triumphantly with supplies filling his arms. After giving some to Clara and I, we run off into the woods all breathing heavily by the time we're half a mile in. We run a couple of miles before stopping to take a quick break and breathe.

I sit down on a log and try to get my thoughts in order. I bury my face in my hands and my elbows rest on my knees. I watch as sweat slowly drips off of my bright red face. Then, I look up to see Clara, my newest problem. Who is she? Why is she with Gale? She appears to be lost in her own world, staring at the ground. I study her intently, taking in all details of her as she leans against a tree.

She has blue eyes.

She has beautiful blond curly hair.

She is elegant.

She has the perfect skin that rich girls get authentically done. Yet hers is as natural as it can get.

She has thin lips that are a pinkish-red and perfect teeth.

The way she walks is graceful. Though from what I've seen, killing to her is as natural as her lovely complexion.

Lastly, she is tall, rising to only a few inches below Gale and a dozen above me on thin, model-like legs that intimidate me.

I admire her. I've never even payed much attention to my looks or compared mine to others, but looking at her, I can feel a tinge of jealousy sprinkling my body. And I don't know why I suddenly care. I've encountered plenty of people myself who were much prettier than me and never even cared.

Finally, my eyes flicker away from Clara and to Gale who appears to be intently working on his breathing. He steadies it with nice long inhales and exhales of air. I try doing the same thing, but it couldn't be harder to catch my breath at the moment. However, once our breathing finally calms, the silence is inevitable, and I wish we were still breathing heavily. Clara breaks the silence with her determined voice that is neutral right now, but has the potential to be demanding or if she wanted it to be, angelic.

"So . . . your name is Katniss?" she asks. My eyes immediately dart to her and I gulp at the intimidation that just her eyes give me. It feels like they are lasers burning straight through my skull.

"Yeah," I say confidently, not letting my weakness show. She nods, staying silent at first before releasing her opinion.

"That's an odd name. Katniss as in the flower?"

My blood boils at this comment, but since I don't wanna get on bad terms with this girl from the start, I grit my teeth and go along with it.

"Yes," I sigh. "Exactly like that. And so . . . where does Clara come from? It's an awfully girly name for such a vicious competitor like you."

She scowls at this comment, but ignores it and changes the subject.

"So you volunteered for your sister, huh?"

"Does it matter to you?" I ask her, meaner than I intended. So much for the bad terms thing.

"No, I'm just trying to figure you out. Get to know you better so I know how to work with you."

"Work with me?" Who ever said-"

"Please, stop. Katniss, may I have a word with you in private."

I nod because clearly it's needed. So, I follow Gale several meters away from Clara underneath a large shady tree where we face each other and brace ourselves for a quick yet informational and necessitous conversation. I open my ears and close my mouth, trying to give Gale the opportunity to explain a bit before I angrily begin flustering him with questions.

"Katniss, I know you already aren't fond of this girl, but, I talked to her a lot in training and she's totally against the games even though she's from district two. I know she's not the kindest, but she's had a rough life like us . . . her dad forced her to train, okay? She really wants to work with us. We could be a pretty strong alliance."

I sigh, trying to absorb this. Her dad forced her to train . . . I tried to imagine what that's like. That is pretty rough. Your own dad sending you into the games. I guess my life isn't the greatest and I'm not particularly a joyous person either. So I could understand, though I'm still not willing to trust that she won't throw a knife into my back when I'm not looking. After all, she is trained like a Career.

"I get it, I really do. But you and I Gale, we do better together. Just you and me."

He laughs hollowly at this.

"It hasn't seemed like it this week," he mumbles and I draw in a hasty breath.

"I thought that was in the past," I sigh.

"I don't know . . ." he replies. "So are you in or not?"

I think about this a moment. My gaze drops to the ground. A red and yellow colored butterfly rests on my boot. I stare at it and watch the way it's wings flutter softly while I try to decide. In the end, I look back up at Gale and simply shrug.

"For now, I guess."

He nods at this and leans in for a hug. I don't return this for a while until finally placing my arms around his waist lightly. I can feel his breath on my ear and suddenly he begins to speak quietly. Quieter than his footsteps are when him and I hunt in the woods at home.

"In the end, it will be you and me Catnip. Just you and me."

I nod at this. He's saying I come before Clara which I believe is true. I couldn't even imagine that my best friend would turn on me that way. However, he might be wrong. Because I'm not sure if I can handle this Clara girl. And so tonight, I might just have to separate myself from the two. And rather Gale would try to find me or not is impossible for me to know.

"Okay, let's keep moving," Gale suggests and we continue on moving deeper into the woods until the sky starts to darken.

We settle at a tree that has huge branches and all manage to climb up it one by one. Fortunately, we all have sleeping bags and figure out a way to settle ourselves in it on the branch. When we do, Gale cuts some rope for each of us that Clara and I received from our bags. We use it to tie around our waists to prevent any chances of falling out of the tree in the middle of the night which are likely without the rope. Gale lays right to my left and Clara lays on Gale's left around the side of the tree. I'm thankful that she's furthest away from me because I want to avoid her as much as possible.

The cannons go off just before the sky darkens completely and the moon and stars appear visibly. Not to mention, the extremely hot temperature of the day has dropped to at least thirty degrees causing me to curl up as much as I can in the tiny space provided in my sleeping bag on this small branch.

I count that eleven people died within the blood bath and now which is a pretty good number, nearly half. It makes me sick, though, to imagine the poor families at home who have lost a loved one. They must despise the survivors so far, which includes me. At least, I would.

About thirty minutes after that, I find myself dozing off with chattering teeth and a calm and visible breath to the memories of the past that were once so sullen then, but are now so joyful, or so they seem. I realize I'd kill to be back at home, suffering poverty than be sitting in a tree in an arena full of enemies, suffering fright and paranoia and sudden hunger and thirst that I'd been ignoring for about the past fifteen minutes. And it's kind of funny that killing is actually just what I have to do to get there.

That's when the anthem begins to play. My head snaps up, the music actuating my tired body to awake. It takes awhile for my eyes to adjust to the brightly illuminated sky and right when they do, the faces of the fallen tributes appear.

It starts in district three where a scrawny girl with sandy blond hair appears. The boy from five has died who I recognize immediately. I glance over at Gale who's already looking at me. A knowing spark in his eyes. He seems to be upset and ashamed. Gale never wanted to play this game, but today he has already made his first kill. So the boy is from district five, I think to myself. And that alone helps me remember his name without even finding it in the sky. Dorrin. I frown and the image of the spear in his stomach replays in my mind.

I turn my head back towards the sky to watch the remaining faces appear. At the end of it all, when it all goes silent, I look at Gale once more. He finds my eyes quickly with his and his depressed expression says it all. But to cheer him up, I have to remind him he's not a killer. He's a savior. So I reach out, entwining our cold, trembling fingers and with the biggest smile I can manage I whisper,

"You saved my life, Gale."

And then a high pitched, terrified scream pulls us from the moment.