Cold is what u felt at the reaping when u heard ur name. No one offered to save you. Then it happened all so fast, u got thrown on a train and taken to another city you had never seen, a luxurious big city that looked nothing like the life u ever lived. Then you got treated to appear more flawless, all to the riches' eyes. You hated it. Coming from a poor life, in your district, just to be a toy for the fun in the eyes of some rich people. You got presented in front of hundreds in an interview with a dress made by a stylist. Then, a few days later, threw on training. You felt numb. You couldn't even realize what was happening. It felt strange that u were thrown to die like nothing in one day or another, like u meant nothing but a toy to entertain. You didn't even know where to start. You never killed anyone, and you didn't even want to. You looked around at the others training, they were skilled, or had some abilties, you felt scared and hopeless when a girl asked to team up, and even though you knew one of you two had to die either way u accept it, you need to cling on the little things that could make you survive more, even if it felt wrong.

Then here you are. An elevator raised till you stood on one of the many platforms in a big green field filled with flowers and vegetation. Like a fake heaven meant to be there as a fake safe illusion. You're like a bird caged with lions. You felt like u couldn't hear your ears clogged, and when the gun signalled the start, caos came in, but you did anything but fight. You ran in the forest as fast as you could, scared and helpless like a doe. You hid for a day or two out of luck, surviving out of the few things you knew. You felt dread at every gun shot of the fallen people in the arena. You knew you were next. Then, while you were grabbing some berries and choosing them, you saw a tall guy approaching you. He was a bit covered in blood, so your survival instincts kicked in the the only thing that came in your head was, run. You ran as fast as you could, but he was behind you running too. You tripped and fell down a hill spraining your ankle. The pain was unbearable, but you tried to drag yourself away in vain. You turned to look at him. He stood over you, holding a blooded knife. You knew it was your time. But strangely enough, he just stared at you for a second before kneeling down to look at your sprained ankle, inspecting it