Hey, so I finally managed to write a new chapter!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed-

BowTiesAreCool

MeMyselfAndI

SkyWriter9

MrsTodd

Kii

MixedAddict

Aand;

SisterOfAnElvenWannabe

Again, thank you!

Oh, and I don't own the story. That honor goes to Suzanne Collins :)

When the train stops again, I think we're just getting more fuel.

Then I hear Melv call down the train. 'Rue? This is our stop'.

Oh. One step towards my death, then.

No. I musn't think like that. I have a reason for winning, unlike some of the careers, who just want the fame, the wealth.

I think back to the faces I saw at the reapings, reasoning to myself they have no reason to win.

But just that one face keeps popping up in my head. Katniss Everdeen's face. She looked just as hopeless as me, if not more. She obviously cared for her sister.

Would I have stepped up if Lila had been picked in the reapings? I know I would. She's my little sister. There would be no way I wouldn't.

But i'm not like most people. For most people, they give up on ever having had that relation.

But not Katniss. She'd stepped up to save her sister. I'm glad about that.

'Rue?', It's Melv, again. I decide i'll have to go.

'Meet your prep team.' He gestures to a group of three people.

Sounds normal, right? Wait 'till I describe them.

The first one has no hair except a fuzzy ball on the top of her head. And her skin is tinged yellow.

I have a massive unge to laugh, but manage to shake it off, knowing it wouldn't do me any favours.

Seeing me staring at her, she decides to indroduce herself. 'Hi, i'm Tilke,' she says, smiling at me toothily. 'And this is Neccie,' She indicates a woman that would be slightly more normal, if it wasn't for the purple jewels embedded into her skin somehow, I can't stop myself thinking, randomly.

I stick a hand out for her to shake and she accepts, swinging my arm so hard I feel like telling her I did have intentions to use that arm. Y'know, in the games.

But I don't, of course.

Finally a man-or an excuse for one, at least, appears.

You're probably wondering what I mean. Men are men, right? Well, not if they're covered in green fur.

He resembles a seasick polarbear-we actually have a picture of one, in our tiny house. It's in a scrap of paper that used to be called a 'magazine.'

We could have sold it, but my mother wanted to educate us in 'the world before our time'. We could still sell it now, and make a lot of money for it too, considering it's over two hundered years old, but nobody dares go against my mother's wishes now.

Not now she's dead.

Anyway, the seasick polarbear introduces himself as Sleke, and grabs me round the waist in a fulll body hug as greeting.

I wince and shrink away from the contact. I hate bodily touching.

He has to have noticed,but apparently he doesn't care.

Thanks for reading! Review? ;D