I arrive at the arena before the other tributes, so get dressed and then I just wait. I pace up and down the gloomy room, my mind racing and my stomach churning. My stylist force feeds me breakfast, which is unusual, because most of the time she's forcing me to starve. But I mostly just ignore her. Come to think of it, I have know idea what her name is. Oh well. My name is Abigail Sealite, but none of the other tributes will know that when I die. I will not let them. I take a sip of water and my stylist throws her arms around me. She's not always right, but as far as capitol people go, she's not that bad. I manage to eat a plain bit of of bread, before a voice announces it's time for me to go.
"Good bye," I whisper, and she bursts into tears, which is even more surprising. Nice to know that someone thinks I can win. Yeah, right.
"You were a pleasure to work with," she shouts at me as I step into the tube. I wave at her slightly as I head up into the arena.
I fiddle with my necklace and look around the arena. My mother made this necklace for me when she was still healthy. A simple leather cord and a smooth, hand-carved, wooden bead painted black. My district token.
I observe my surroundings. Twenty-four tribute surrounding the cornucopia. On one side is a forest, on the other endless fields, maybe of grain.
My whole body is shaking so hard I'm afraid I might fall over, when I here the voice through a speaker. "Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 74th annual hunger games begin!" And I run.
