PEETA'S POV
Blinding streams of light peek through the curtains making my eyes squint. Suddenly, I hear a voice in my left ear. "Peeta, Peeta. Peeta!" My eyes shoot open in startle, it's Haymitch. "Get up, it's gonna be a big day. Training centre," My muscles click as I climb out of bed and make my way to the dining room. Primrose is already there, tucking into the Capitol's usual fancy meal. I fill up my plate with mostly fat pork sausages and scrambled eggs, since I need the extra strength and fuel to impress the gamemakers. "So, any advice for the training centre?" Prim asks in her normal gentle tone. Our mentor continues crunching on his toast, swallows and says, "Watch out for the career tributes, you do know who they are right?" Prim nods and I reply with, "Who doesn't!" The careers are the tributes from Districts 1, 2 and 4. They train for the games their entire lives and volunteer to go in when their trainers think they are ready for it. In their minds, entering the games is an honour, a privilige, a symbol of bravery loyalty. "Obviously, one of them normally win it," Haymitch says through a sip of coffee. "But not always remember, sometimes it's other Districts." Effie says reassuringly whilst applying her mint green lipstick and fixing her pale blue wig. "Oh and don't worry they get no special treatment. I heard they don't even get to have dessert and you do!" Our escort says, trying to make us feel better. Haymitch narrows his eyebrows at her because of what she just said. I have to admitt, it was a bit peculiar. Effie blushes with embarrasment. "My advice would be to try a bit of everything. A bit of spear throwing, archery, swords, knives, camoflauge. Discover your talents, and use the ones you are best at for your private gamemaker sessions tomorrow," Obeidiently, we nod our heads and finish eating. I click my bedroom door open, where I find Portia laying out an outfit on my bed. Immeadiately, she spins around, beams brightly and says, "Oh, Peeta! Good! This is your outfit for the training centre!" she says in her usual joyous tone. I walk over and my stylist exits the room. I pick it up by the short length sleeves at examin what I am going to be wearing. A dull black and grey full body suit with short sleeves, complete with our District number printed on the back, sleeves and chest in an intimidating blood red colour. Almost as if it is symbolising our painful sacrifice. I slowy slip my body into the suit. The silk like material (which I wasn't expecting at all) tenderly strokes and massages my skin and feels like white clouds on my body. I pull on the much more rough black leather boots and double knot the shoelaces, like I always do. I grab a small blue comb from the mahogany dressing table and brush out tangles from my ashy blonde locks. As soon as I step out of my room, Haymitch, Effie and Prim are faced infront of me. My District partner now looks even more vulnerable and tender, her golden waterfall now in two braids at either side of her head ,just like at the reaping day, the thin suit making her now look even more slim, tiny and weak. Like a little duckling. A little duck. Exactly what Katniss calls her. My head begins to lower down as my vital mission once again enters my head. I need to save her, I need to save the little duck. I need to die, I need to sacrifice myself for the only person in the world I am definite I love. As long as she is happy, I am too. I raise my head and see that Prim is looking at me. No, she's not just looking at me, she's gazing into me. Her sapphire blue eyes filled with worry and sympathy, soft pink lips quivering. I just can't put my finger on it, but there is something special between us. Not romance, no. Something different.
"Right, right, right! Everyone we are going to be late! We have to be on time, so come on! Shoo shoo!" Effie ushers and shoos us into the lift. The journey down was very silent, a few seconds just before the lift opened she whispered to me, "You don't need to save me," and walked off before I could reply. I followed along behind her and joined the circle of tributes.
"Right. We can get started," spoke a woman with fair skin, long flaming red curls, emerald green eyes and dressed in a plain black t-shirt, cargo trousers and leather boots. "My name is Atalana, and I will be giving you some tips that might be handy in getting you the well desevered title of victor or victoress," She peers at all us for a moment and sets her eyes on the boy from District 10. A tall muscle packed figure with dark brown eyes and hair of jet-black. "You." Atalana says in her stern voice and he stepped forward. Quickly, she pinned her firey locks up in a tight bun and continued to speak. "Now if someone is coming up at you in the arena, trying to punch you, pin you to the ground you need to learn a block. Now you punch me with both hands," The boy raised his fists and fired them towards Atalana. As fast as a lightning bolt, her arms turned into solid metal bars and prevented the punch from touching her, or hurting her. Then she went into detail about how to achive this and taught us more. "Right, that will be enough. There are several different stations, spear throwing, knife throwing, archery, fire starting, camoflauge etcetrea. This is your chance to practice before your private gamemaker sessions and most importantly the games. Remember no fighting other tributes! You'll have plently of time for that in the arena. Go,"
