A/N Woah... It's been a hot second since I was on here. I've gone through some of my old stuff recently, and it made me realize how much I miss writing. This is a story I was planning around the time I quit, so I thought it'd be a good way to ease back into writing. WIll I ever go back to writing SYOTs? Probably not, but anything is possible. I've missed this place!

Please take some time to review! For those of you that knew me before I disappeared, leave me or shoot me a message! I'd love to catch up!

I also welcome any type of criticism and feedback about improvement!

Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack. Wheeeeeeeer….. Clickety-clack.

That's how the trains in District Five run. They're loud, annoying, and shaky, and it's what I expected when my escort Clementina told us we were headed for the train. However, this train runs with a soft purr, occasionally complaining about uneven stretches or track with a low rumble.

Some things don't change, however; I still have to eat. I haven't had a bite since the stolen dinner roll last night and it's nearly noon. I tap my foot on the carpet of my bedroom, in which Clementina dumped me when we first entered the train. How much longer until it's time to eat? Are they going to let us starve? Considering that we're headed for a deathmatch, it wouldn't be surprising, but given that they went to the trouble of giving us all this luxury, I'd expect that they wouldn't withhold food.

Still, looking around can't hurt, especially if I'm guaranteed to die. District Five tributes never have the physical resilience and strength needed to withstand the Games. Even if I were strong enough, I'm not brave enough to make it.

I poke my head out and look down the hallway. No one is in sight. I slide up to the door — it opens without squeaking, revealing the small, enclosed space between train cars. The next door is locked; I fumble in my pockets for the lockpick. They did pat me down when we entered the train, but they didn't catch the slender piece of metal hidden below my pant seam.

The Capitol-made lock is surprisingly not much harder than the ones back home, so either the Capitol is greatly overrated or they're not protecting anything valuable in here. With a slight jiggle and a little push, the knob turns, revealing a storage room — or, storage car. Piles of crates line the walls of the dark, cold room. The light behind me illuminates the corner of a box.

"Oranges." The color? Or…

Food! This train car is full of wonderful, glorious food. I stare for a few moments. I've never seen this much food in my years on the streets of Five. Heck, we didn't have this much food when my mom was still around.

I tear a small hole in the edge of the wrapper and pull out an "orange" about the size of my fist. I've never had one — I've only ever seen them when I accidentally snook into rich houses. I bite into the rough skin, and a bitter flavor overwhelms my mouth before a wonderful sour sweetness overtakes it.

Clementina's acrid voice interrupts my ecstasy. "Aaran! What are you doing in here?"

I stare back. No place to run in here. Slowly, I back away. What will she do to me? I almost laugh at my patheticness. I'm on a train to the Hunger Games and I'm not brave enough to stand up to my doting escort.

"I've been searching everywhere for you! It's time for lunch! How did you even get in here anyway?"

"Well…" I sputter, "The door… was left unlocked."

She grabs my arm. "Now come on! Everyone is waiting for you."

"I'm… very sorry."

She sighs as she leads me through the train cars to the dining car. "It's fine." She glances at the half-eaten orange in my hand and laughs. "Oh! You poor dear! You don't know how to eat these, don't you!"

"Well…"

"I'll show you at lunch! You're supposed to peel off the skin before you eat them!"

I guess she's right. If you ask me, it tasted pretty good the way it was.

When we finally reach the dining room, the table is already full of foods of all colors and shapes. I recognize some meats and vegetables, but the rest is completely unfamiliar. The aroma reaches my nose and my mouth begins to water. I reach out for a glistening, white, disk-like food.

Clementina slaps my hand away. "Sit down before you start eating! Poor child! You're half-starved, aren't you?"

I glare at her and sit before making a big gesture of grabbing food, staring at her the entire time. She just smiles back. I can't understand these people.

When I bite into the thick disk, there's a bit of chewy resistance and then it's all soft—

It's slimy. I hurriedly swallow the bit I chewed off and toss the rest onto my plate.

"Never had a scallop before?" interrupts a different, deeper voice.

When I look up, three sets of eyes are looking back at me. Clementina and the two District Five victors, Photine Orly and Abner Sheraga. Abner is the older one. He won twenty years back through his skills with electronic equipment. Photine won about five years ago without killing a single tribute because she outran both the Gamemakers' mutts and the other tributes.

Abner grunts. "My first experience with scallops was quite similar to yours. If you survive this d*** game you'll have all the time in the world to get used to them."

The Hunger Games. In my excitement, I had forgotten about my entire purpose of being here. All of a sudden, my appetite disappears and a queasiness replaces the growling hunger. Beside me, my district partner, Levina Bronte, squirms in her seat.

Abner continues. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but that's really all that matters now." He grins wryly. "Well, you do have a choice. You can either eat and drink and go die. In that case, don't listen to me. Or, you can start preparing yourselves and actually give yourself a chance."

There's a long, grim pause. Photine looks disapprovingly at Abner but doesn't say anything, Abner wordlessly shifts his gaze between Levina and me, looking us up and down. While his eyes are on me, he sighs and shakes his head. Excuse me?

Levina takes a deep breath. "Then let's give it a go."

Abner looks at me. "What about you?"

I stare at the ground. What kind of preparation would give me even a slight chance? "If we prepared… my odds would still be infinitesimally low."

Abner shrugs and rises from his seat. "Have it your way; enjoy the food. Levina, you come with me." With that, both leave the dining car.

I glare at Abner's disappearing figure. I might look small, but I'm… not small? That's not quite right either.

Photine focuses her attention on me. "What's your decision?"

"If anything… I'll win just to rub it in his face," I joke.

She smiles weakly. "That sounds much better."

"But... " I hesitate. "It's still no good, isn't it? Even if I worked day and night, I wouldn't have the skills to win. I'll still try, of course, but I'm still doomed."

She twirls her fork. "Don't discount yourself too quickly. I managed to get out of that arena without killing a single person, not because I was strong but because I was fast. I'm sure you have something you can play to your advantage."

"Not unless being cowardly and forgettable is somehow beneficial."

"That's how Joktan Telfour won forty years ago."

"They won't let it work again," I say. "His Games were the most boring thing ever. He just hid underground until even the Capitol thought he was dead and then killed the last surviving opponent."

"You never know. It could happen."

I bristle. "I get you're trying to help, but realistically, I can't win." I throw up my hands. "Even if I had a slight chance, I wouldn't be brave enough to take it. I'm too d*** scared."

Photine looks me dead in the eye. "Aaran. Shut up and listen to me."

I gulp and nod.

"You're scared. So is everyone. Suck it up and try your hardest anyway. That's what courage is — trying your hardest even when you can't see victory. You hear me?"

I nod again.

"I'm ordering you to be courageous. I will hear no more complaining about your odds."

"I never had a choice, did I?" I say.

"Of course not!" she says. "I'm being brave by doing my best to mentor you. I expect just as much from you."

Somehow, her declaration seems to have worked. The queasiness in my stomach is now gone. I guess courage takes many forms 'cause now, it's taking the form of gnawing hunger.

"Can I eat now?"

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