I stepped out as soon as the metal elevator doors opened and faces of tributes greeted me on the way. Some were bored, and some—which I assumed were careers, were thrilled as Jeongin and I arrived. As if looking at us like meat. Ready to pounce us like a predator preying its soon-to-be supper. We settled down behind the District Three tributes, as I reckon we're supposed to stand in four lines as we wait to meet the head trainer. Lalisa's her name, I think. Above us were the game makers, observing us rather quietly. 

    Standing beside me was the girl tribute from District Six. I heard she volunteered for some girl named Kim Minju back in their home. Though I don't exactly know why. Their district isn't a part of the careers and as far as I know, they aren't the type to volunteer. Coming from a girl tribute, this is very surprising. I gazed upon her silently, we were almost the same height so it wasn't that hard for me to look at her whilst not noticing me. How could a girl be as innocent looking as her volunteer for someone else? They weren't sisters, that's for sure. But why? Is she something special? Like a friend or something? It takes a brave soul to volunteer for someone. Either the reaped tribute was special to you, or you just want to bring pride to your district—which applies to both Districts One and Two. The career districts. In some other cases, they'd just want to go on quickly, afraid to feel the same tense sensation again for the next reaping. Eyeing at the girl from Six, I asked her mentally, though I know she'll not hear my question. Why would you do that, volunteer tribute? 

    All of a sudden, I heard footsteps from in front. And I was aware of who it was. It wasn't a tribute. It was Lalisa—the head trainer. My head shot towards the front and saw the head trainer stand into a circular platform, a sheet of paper on her hands. 

    “Attention, tributes. I'm Lalisa Manoban, the head trainer for The 33rd Annual Hunger Games.” she started, “Today I'll be elaborating the different stations in this training room. You'll be equipped with several swords, knives, bows and arrows, guns, and many other weapons. There are also weightlifting to test your strength endurance and capabilities. You can learn how to make fire, how to camouflage yourself. Those are present in this training ground. But also keep in mind that one mustn't ignore the survival skills. Survival skills are just as important as fighting skills. Who knows what awaits you in the arena.” she explains. 

    A bitter chuckle escaped my lips, though it wasn't audible for everyone to hear. What awaits us in the arena? Please. That's easy. Death awaits us.  I shook my head to no one in particular as Lalisa continued explaining, “There could be snow, drought, earthquake, fire, tsunami, or any calamity you could ever imagine.” there was a pause, “You'll never know what's in there.” 

    “Combat with other tributes is strictly prohibited. Fighting in the training grounds is also forbidden. You'll have plenty of time for that in the arena.” she then smiles at us genuinely, “Goodluck. And may the odds be ever in your favor.” The tributes then scatter into groups, devouring the equipment to themselves. I decided to observe for a while, remembering what Seulgi's advice was. To not show everyone what I can do. Walking around, I observed the other tributes training. The Careers are teamed up together and are now testing the weaponry section. Lee Chaeyeon—the girl from District One, tries to cut off the dummy's body parts using her twin swords and I can see that she and the other tribute from her district was well-trained. With that kind of skill, I'm sure she'll win. She's not one to mess up with. And she'll make everyone know about that—That's for sure. 

    I walked around once more, seeing the girl from Two test out her silver spear, hitting dummies on their center, distancing herself five or so meters away. The male tribute from Two was thirteen, so I think he'll be dead on Day One. Not degrading him, I'm just being realistic. District Four was rather surprising. For a non-career, the girl tribute was rather good. She had red colored hair and could directly hit a bullseye meters away from the dummy just by using a blow dart. And blow darts from the Capitol are usually difficult to use. Her district partner is skilled in combat. I can tell by the firm and precise moves of the boy as he targets the blue-colored dummy. 

    Next to District Four was Five. Her hair was colored in blonde, and she had really fluffy-like cheeks. At first, she seemed like the kind type. But as you'll observe her facial features, you'll know she's dangerous.  I also see that she's not focused into fighting skills. Instead, she's working on a device which guides her to what food she can eat. She's smart and I can observe that. The fire making station caught my eye, and I see the girl from Eight attempting to make one. She had long, black hair that flowed down to her waist. Her hair was tied into a braid. Then, I wonder where Jeongin is. I was about to find him when my thoughts were interrupted as I heard a voice. It wasn't Jeongin's. It was a girl. The girl from Six. The girl I was standing beside while Lalisa's talking in front. The volunteer tribute. 

    “Too idle to train?” she says, leaning against the weapons' receptacle. “Or are you just nervous on your first day?” she asked, playfully winking at me. I rolled my eyes at this, smiling bitterly. Then, my smile faltered almost immediately, looking at her in a cold manner, “Please. Just leave me alone.” Walking  away from her, I decided to find Jeongin again. And this time, the girl from Six obliged—probably afraid to see me fuming mad at her. Finally, I saw Jeongin at the camouflage section, painting his forearm using a dark brown paint. I approached him. “What's that?” I question, nudging his arm. 

    “Oh this?” he confirms, raising his arm as he showed it to me. He then walked towards the patch of ground located near the area, laying his arm on the deep brown soil. My eyes gaped in awe, “Jeongin, that's impressive!” I exclaimed, earning a chuckle from him. “I know right. I liked painting at school, you know.” However, his smile falters at the thought. “What's wrong?” I asked, sensing that something's not right. “I just miss home.” he says plainly. 

    “Me too.” I say, my voice trailing off as I felt myself empty. Then I let out a smile—a convincing one. “Don't worry. Someday, we'll be free.” 

    But I know deep inside that I'm lying to myself. That everything I say is futile. There's no going back now. No turning points. We were gonna die.