As I, Alexis Heart, arrive at the Capitol, a thousand things flash through my mind. I see millions of people wearing peculiar clothes,& exotic makeup. Nothing around me is familiar and it is overwhelming to me. A women looks at me as the train slowly drives further into the capitol, and her eyes are like daggers piercing through me as she looks on with anticipation. I recognize her, and though I don't know why I do, I cling to this familiarity and even as she stares rudely, it has a calming effect on me. I take a deep breath and I smell the old, leather seats in the train, the rich foods and the deserts with their wafting scents of vanilla, chocolate, and spice. I open the window to breath in the outside air and close it when all I smell is the poluted city air. I look beyond the streets, the people, and the buildings - I look back in my mind, and I see home. I see the trees surrounding our district. District Six. The District of Transportation. I can almost smell the gasoline when I picture my father, and the scent of coffee mixing with too much sweet pea perfume when I see my Mom in my minds eye. What will my parents do now that I'm not around? But, that wasn't really home, was it? It was home once. It was home before my brother went into the games, and never returned. It was home before the capitol claimed his life for so called "justice." After that, it was never home. Just a cold building with broken, familiar faces. But, oh how I longed for those familiar faces! The image fades and I am back in the capitol, back to the present, back to my new reality - my fate. The sounds come flooding in when I make this return. People everywhere shouting. Are those realy shouts of excitement? Well, what was I sappose to expect? My death was entertainment afterall. Death, entertainment... those words were not meant to be in the same sentence, and yet, that was all these people knew. It was all they knew... I try to imagine a time when that wasn't true - a time when those in the capitol felt the same way about things as those living in the districts. I can't imagine it, because it's too much. I don't have as much hope as I would like to for change. And how can I when so many are on the opposing side? Or when so many believe I am the one who is on the opposing side? I look upon the faces of those in the capitol, and nothing makes sense. Are they all mad? Suddenly, I feel as if I am falling and I am so scared to land that I withdraw from all of this. I go to a place all my own, inside my head and I decide to stay there for as long as I can afford. Am I mad?