"Don't be worried," Falem told me.
"Yeah. I'm just going to go fight 23 other kids who know what they're doing and I just have whatever gets me by in normal life. Why should I be worried?" I reply sarcastically.
Falem glared at me. "You have more than what you need for daily life. You and I both know you do."
I gaped. "But they have more."
"You're from 6, not 12. Show it. You have more talent than you give yourself credit for," he said with confidence.
My confidence didn't match his. "You make it sound like I'm from 3 or something. I can't shoot an arrow, I doubt I can throw a spear, and I most definitely cannot outfight a Career in hand-to-hand combat."
"Then don't be forced to fight a Career. Make an alliance with one or something. Just do what you can and don't die on me." With that, he gave me a hug.
My best friend had tears in his eyes and I did too. "Aliena," he whispered into my ear. "Don't leave me all alone."
To be selected as tribute was an "honor," said the Capitol. When it's you, it's not even close. And to see your best friend ever watch you go, and probably die, there was no way it could be an honor. It's not even about you at that point. It's about how they'll fare without you.
The Peacekeepers took Falem away. I was alone again, just like I would be for days, or maybe weeks, in the Arena.
Being alone was normal for me. My parents had died in an accident 10 years ago, when I was 7. I lived with Falem and his family after that. They took me in like family. Then Falem's parents died from sickness 3 years ago. Falem is 20, and perfectly capable of taking care of both of us. And so he does.
But he couldn't take care of me now. I was going to be thrown into an Arena and probably killed.
The Peacekeepers came back in to take me to the train.