Peeta

I stand in the hovercraft alone, leaning against the window, watching the wilderness flying past below us. I’m trying not to dwell on the fact that my life, my love, and my sanity are all close to an end. The Reaping, the training, and the interviews were all just a prelude to what was coming next.

Katniss. Her name appears in my thoughts more often than I want to admit. I’m so determined to help her win; I know she can do it. She has the strength, courage, and skills to outsmart anyone. Not to mention her charm, her brilliance, her eyes...

Portia comes into the room, interrupting my thoughts. My clothes are folded neatly in her arms – the ones I’m going to wear in the arena. She sees me leaning against the window and stares curiously for a moment. “Aren’t you hungry?” she asks.

I look over at the table. I haven’t touched the food that was brought to me hours ago, but I don’t think I’ll be able to hold it down. I’m just too nervous, worried, and full of other random emotions to eat. “Not really,” I reply halfheartedly.

She sighs, but doesn’t argue. “Here – I brought your clothes,” she says abruptly, clearly choking back a few emotions of her own. She lays them on the table and scurries through the door, closing it tightly behind her.

I take a deep breath before standing up and pulling on the outfit – a green button-up shirt, brown pants, comfortable black leather shoes, and a black jacket – then sit at the table and take tiny sips of water. I’m still unable to eat, no matter how much coaxing I’ve put on myself.

Portia comes back in, and some of her deep, thick mascara has smeared, but she has pulled herself together enough to sit across from me. She doesn’t say anything, which suits me fine for the moment.

Finally, the windows turn black, the hovercraft slows and lands, and we arrive at the launching site. Portia escorts me out, and I give her a brief good-bye hug.

“I’ll never forget you, Peeta,” she says to me in a hushed voice, which surprises me. I’ve genuinely enjoyed her company as my stylist – something I would have never expected to do. So many emotions are running through my head, but I shake them off and step on the metal disk, preparing for launch.

As the disk starts to rise, I tell myself to go through all the plans I have for the Games and everything I intend on doing in order to live as long as I can, all while sparing Katniss. However, I’m at a complete loss at the moment. What plan? I ask myself. I never conjured one up.

An immediate light blinds me as the platform reaches the arena. Claudius Templesmith’s voice booms over the arena, and I wait for him to finish blabbering on about the rules (even though there aren’t many), wishing us good luck, and bidding us farewell.

Then the quiet before the storm arrives – sixty seconds to take in our surroundings. But, really, I’m still not coming up with a plan for the first bit of it. The only thought that crosses through my mind at first is his last statement: “Let the 74th Hunger Games begin!”