The next few days are a blur. 

I feel like I know exactly what's going to happen, so I'm not surprised by it anymore. 

Plus, time always seems to move faster when something is coming up in the future that you don't want to happen.

Our stylist dresses us in tree costumes, as expected. Me and Adair don't get any special attention from the audience- not that I was expecting any. 

The interviews go okay, with me being antisocial and mysterious. That strategy works out well. And I'd list the other tributes' names, but everything seems to go in one ear and out the other for me right now. 

The training center is normal. I practice with an ax and get rated at an 8. Not bad, but definitely not the best I could've done. My mind was elsewhere. 

And now I'm sitting in my room. Soon we'll be picked up to be transported to the arena. I couldn't sleep, so now I'm just sitting here, pondering what strategies might be best. 

I never did go to any of Johanna's training sessions. Maybe I should've. Or maybe they were a waste of time. 

I used to have an Avox servant here. She stood in the corner of my room until I yelled at her to leave. I couldn't stand having someone else here. I needed to think. 

Someone knocks on my door, so quietly that if I was doing anything at all I probably wouldn't hear it. 

I go to the door and open it, expecting to see Johanna or another Avox ready to lead me to the hovercraft.

But no, it's Adair. 

I scowl at him. 

"Hi, Amethyst," he says, as if we're friends. I almost want to slam the door in his face, but don't. If he gets hurt I could be punished for fighting.

"Can I come in?" I reluctantly let him in, closing the door behind me. He sits on the edge of my bed and I stand against the door, not really wanting to be anywhere near him right now. 

He looks around my room. Apparently it looks exactly like his room, because he turns to me and asks a question. 

"If we weren't in the Hunger Games, would you be my girlfriend?" It takes me a moment to digest the words. His girlfriend? Nope, no way. I'd never want to be his girlfriend, not in any life, not ever.

I shake my head fiercely, and he looks hurt. Good for him. I don't really care. 

I assume he's about to ask why not, so I open the door. 

"Feel free to leave now." I don't hide the harshness spilling into my voice. Maybe it's a bit much, declining him and then being rude to him, but what does it matter anyways? It's not like we're going to be allies.

He stands up and walks towards the door, pausing when he's right in front of me. I take a step back. 

"I'm sorry, Amethyst. I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry." I think about the stories I've read. This is starting to sound like a romantic one. Those are always my least favorite. 

The guy is always the 'coolest bad boy'. The girl is always the 'nerdy invisible one'. Then the guy has a crush on the girl, and somehow it all turns out all right. 

I absolutely hate that kind of story. I don't see why I can just read a book without the two main characters falling in love. If I had a best friend, that doesn't mean that I would have a crush on them. 

I hurl those thoughts out of my mind, I don't like thinking about that sort of stuff. It makes me sound weird in my head.

Me and Adair are about the same size, so it's easy for me to shove him out the door. I shut it tight, and I hear him standing there for a moment before his footsteps retreat down the hallway.

There's another knock on the door. I glance out my window and find the sun's starting to rise, painting the sky with orange and yellow, and blue. I savor it, knowing it might very well be the last sunrise I have. 

The knocks grow louder. The person outside's getting impatient. I grumpily get up and open the door. 

Standing there is my mentor, Johanna. I scowl. 

"What is it?" I ask, pretending that I was just woken up from a good night of sleep and not that I have barely slept in days. 

I managed to sleep the first and second night, but even then I kept waking up during the night and it was never very refreshing anyways. Plus, the bags under my eyes must be noticable. 

Johanna grabs my arm. 

"Time to get ready for the arena. And I know you probably haven't slept. I was a tribute too once, you know." She winks at me while dragging me by my arm down the hall, which is rather unsettling. 

But she's right. I did forget she was a tribute. She probably thought she was going to die in the arena, too. But she didn't. 

This gives me some hope, although not much. I've got no use in winning anyways. 

Even if I do win, there's no one for me to come back to. 

My mother'd probably stay in our old house and not join me in my fancy one, enduring the no-insulation and weird smell. She hates me. 

She leads me onto the roof, where I grab a ladder hanging from a hovercraft and it freezes me in place, then drags me up. 

I'm alone in a room now. Just me and a green jumpsuit, which doesn't seem very comfortable. 

They're not making any effort to make me look nice. Maybe they think I'll die early on and my blood will obscure that I'm not wearing makeup. 

I am glad for it, though. I find no use in makeup or looking pretty. It's useless, kind of like a dull ax. No one's going to use that. It could even get you hurt. 

I slip on the jumpsuit and pull on the leather boots next to it. 

It's supple and comfortable, though so different from my normal clothes that it's all I can do to not rip it off. 

The boots are a lot better. They have a nice grip on the bottom of them, good for climbing trees, I'd guess. 

That'd be amazing, if there was trees in the arena. 

I notice a human-sized glass tube next to me, and a countdown fills the air. 

10...

9...

8...

6...

5...

4...

3... 

2...

1...

I jump into the tube right as the glass closes. Soon enough I'm rising upward.

My heart's beating in my ears and my palms are suddenly sweaty. 

My tube breaks through the surface of the Earth and all of a sudden there's sunlight, so much of it. Too much. 

I blink and look around. The cornucopia's in front of me, surrounded by tributes. 

And a countdown is clicking above it.

60...

59..

58..

57...

56...

55...