District 2 had to be one of the dreariest districts Amity had ever stepped foot in. As soon as she got off the train, she felt this overwhelming sensation of depression, dread, and uneasiness, as if it were implying that she should turn back. Well, she wasn't in Kansas anymore. Err, District 5.
The people looked intimidating, though she wasn't one to cower under pressure. No. That was the whole reason she was here, right? To prove that not even a lethal killer from District 2 could bully her into believing that she wasn't good enough.
The training center was huge. They didn't have anything like this back in 5, obviously, since special training of tributes technically wasn't allowed, but Amity had found a way to play around with weapons.
She tucked a loose strand of red hair that had slipped from her ponytail, clutching the handle of her backpack as she moved further into the center. The kids training were massive. Even the girls looked toned and lethal. They didn't pay her any mind, though, as they were busy with their own lessons.
What the hell was she getting herself into?