The District One chariot rolls out.  Their theme was luxury items, so of course it looked beautiful, with it's pure white horses and jewels covering the tributes.  I hear Seth mutter, "Tributes are Glimmer and Marvel."  I snorted.  Why are their names always so funny?  

Next was District Two, the theme was masonry, so they were dressed like a god and goddess.  Seth said their names were Clove and Cato.  After them was District Three, who's theme was technology.  They were dressed like metal electronics.  District Four's theme's fishing, so they were dressed like the ocean.

District Five was power, and their outfits shone and the light literally bounced right off them whenever they turned around.  District Six was transportation, so they dressed like the moon, as if they had flown there or something.  District Seven's was lumber, and the costumes were literally folded origami.  District Eight's theme was textiles, so the tributes had blue and purple scraps all over.

District Nine was dressed in silver and gold lines because their theme was grain.  I was confused how their stylist got grain out of their costumes.  Oh, well.  It won't help me with anything to survive, so I don't really need to hear it.  District Ten were dressed like cowboys with their theme being livestock.  

Then we were rolling out.  I smiled and waved, but everyone I saw looking at me was too busy looking me up and down to see for themselves how weak and vulnerable I look.  I had a feeling I wasn't going to have much sponsors.  I was super nervous about everything, like I would fall off.  When I got to the square, I finally realized everyone was staring at the tribute chariot behind us, and I thought that it shouldn't be like that, because District Ten, Eleven, and Twelve tend to be the poorest districts, so we usually don't have very good costumes.  One year, the tributes from District Twelve were naked with coal sprinkled over them.  I particularly didn't like that year.

When I finally looked behind me, I would have fallen off my chariot if I wasn't steady as I was.  They were on fire.  The girl and boy from 12 were literally on fire.  The crowd was chanting their names, and I felt a little bit of jealousy stir within me.  I shook it off, though.  I hate jealousy.  Soon I arrived at the City Circle, where they welcomed us, played the Capitol anthem, and welcomed us into the Training Center, our new prison, I mean home, until the Hunger Games.  I did not want to go in there and meet all of the tributes, one who will most likely kill me, if I don't die from hunger or thirst first.