The Bubble Games! Activate!
Chapter One
I attend the reaping, frightened that my name will be called to participate in the Bubble Games. I have had to enter my name in forty-four times this year, to feed my family.
The Bubble Games was set up as punishment seventy odd years ago, to enforce obedience of the Districts to the Capitol, which is the center of everything.
My name is called by Effie trinket,, the lady with pink hair. I hug my sister farewell and beg Gale, who has practiced with me, to keep her safe. It is because of him that I am not certain I will be bubble-squashed in my first encounter.
I and Peeta Mellark, the bathkeeper's son, are the tributes for District 12. He doesn't look like much, but even so, I hope I don't end up sharing a bubble with him. There have got to be better candidates.
We board the train and Effie Trinket assures us that being trafficked isn't the worst think in the world. "Why, I had three sisters who voluntreered for the Bubble Games back in the early days of the competition, and they had very swell lives, until the third year when they were put to death after all the sex and fury."
That was the thing about the Bubble Games. Whoever wasn't the top victor would be tranquilized three years later. The top victor had the option to re-enter the Bubble Games at the end of three years' time, along with his/her favorite sex slave.
And as we watch the coverage of the District's reaping, we see that in District 4, Finnick Odair has offered himself for another try in the Bubble Games, and his favorite sex slave, Annie Cresta, is asked to come along with him. Annie Cresta should have been tranquilized last year, but Finnick let four of his lower female sex slaves be taken instead. The Capitol allows that for favorites—supposedly the loss of four slaves makes up for getting to keep one favorite.
Finnick's presence in this Bubble Games worries me. He has won the past three times he entered, first in the 65th Bubble Games, which he won, then the 68th Bubble Games, swhich he entered so that he wouldn't be put to death, and the 71st, for the same reason. And here he is again. His prowess is obvious, as no one else has won three times in a row before. And having won twice already allowed Annie Cresta, who desired to be his slave, to give her role up to the runner-up, Mordecai Velsniffer. I am so glad I wasn't part of that games. To be the sex slave of Mordecai Velsniffer has got to be one of the biggest punishments in the world.
Of course, all of Mordecai Velsniffer's sex slaves are deatd now. He re-entered the games, and lost. He has only two more years in life now, unless Nora Bennett takes him as her favorite, which I doubt she will, as he is the lower sex slave of Britney Hurl, who is herself a sex slave of Benjamin Weiner, who is a sex-slave of Clara Pigeon, who is a direct sex-slave of Nora Bennett. It takes a lot to dig down there, and anyway, Mordecai is a disgusting blighter. I think Nora favors Icarus Tramhouse, anyway.
We arrive at the Capitol, and Peeta waves out at the crowd. He seems to enjoy the idea that he will be some girl's sex slave. Of course, his father is a bathkeeper, so he probably can do something.
Effie Trinket escorts us off the train. We are taken to a hotel. I have never been in a hotel before, though the District 1 girl ooks bored. She has blond hair, and her arm brushes against mine in the crowd, and then she shrinks back when she notices I am from District 12.
We ride the elevator to the twelfth floor, wwhere our rooms are. This hotel is vacated by all but the tributes and their escorts.
I sleep fitfully, though I do dream of being in Finnick's bubble and succumbing to him. I really hope some other girl in his bubble first. That is, some girl strong enough to overpower him.
In the morning I meet my prept team, who are dressed in all kinds of odd colors. They undress me and bathe me, scraping off dead skin cells. Then I stand before them, bare. I hope they don't plan to enter me in the Bubble Games like this. I want to at least have a bikini on. The effort it will take a male contestant to rip the top part off will be enough to help me win. I have seen Gale get zapped just from that, and we were only using the discarded bathing suits we found in the dump. The Captiol's bikins were a lot more elaborate.
One of my prep team—Flauvius, I think his name was—pinched my hip. I stood my ground.
"She doesn't react!" he said excitedly.
"We might finally have a winner on our hands," Octavia said, blowing her nose on a handerchief. She was another member of my prep team.
I am relieved when another man comes in, which is odd. One would think I'd be jumpy, but this guy carries around a demeanor that makes me trust him.
"I am Cinna, your stylist," he said, walking around me. "Nice shoulders, scintillating hips. You'll knock their socks off."
"You're not going to send me in naked, are you?" I ask.
Cinna shook his head. "That is a ploy of the District 1 stylist. You will wear something more breathtaking."
"More breathtaking than…nothing?"
"Oh, I think so, yes. You can make an impression by wearing clothes, you know."
He walks around me again, then says, "Tomorrow I will have your dress sent up to you."
"A…dress?" I don't know how I could possibly win sponsors if I'm wearing something that doesn't show off as much of my body as possible.
"Of yes, a dress will do quite well," Cinna said. He went out and my prep team did more experiments, pinching my elbow and feeling my collarbone. It is an hour before I am released from therm, and permitted to be free.
I run into Peeta in the hallway. He has just gotten finished with his prep squad too. He has a book tucked under his arm.
"Love in the time of cholera," he says.
"What?"
He holds up the book in his arms. "One of the few books to have survived the Great Flood."
Now I know he is dommed. He knows history. How are you supposed to submit people into being sex slave sif you spout history at them?
At dinner I sit next to a fox-faced girl. She is drawing something while she eats, and at first I m not sure what it is. Then I peek over, and gasp. She has diagrams and everything. The bubble she will be in, and how to handle different situations. It's so elaborate. I never thought anyone would be this prepared.
She sees me looking, and smiles. "If Finnick's in it, you know you've got to be ready for almost anything."
"You got that right," I said.
She takes another bite of steak, and suddenly her face light up as if sparked by an idea. She makes furious marks on the paper, then rises and rushes out of the dining hall in a frenzy. I stare after her.
And then the District 1 girl walks behind me and bops me on the head with her tray. I don't know what gives her the right to do so, and I scowl at her. She tickles my hip roughly, then whispers in my ear, "When you are my sex slave, I will ensure that you have a miserable, old time, dear. And of course I'll never let you touch my body."
I reach for her at this, and she jumps out of the way, shrieking, "The District 12 girl has tried to grab me!"
The Baitkeepers are called forth, and they take me ta room and keep me there for hours, telling me that I should save all my sexual urges for the games themselves.
"We know that the District 1 girl is irresistible," says the Baitkeeper sitting directly across from me. "You've never seen anyone from District 1 before, outside of your screen. Seeing one in person, you're bound to be struck by how beautiful she is. But there will be plenty of time to play with her once you have gotten through round four of the arena."
Another Baitkeeper snickers. The idea of a District 12 girl surviving to round four is ludicrous to him.
"Promise you won't try to gpawa t her again," says the chief Baitkeeper in the room.
"I promise," I say, which is true, as I didn't attempt to paw at her this time.
The Baitkeeper who snickered is assigned to take me to the twelfth floor. He grips my shoulder tightly, too tightly. Then he takes me out and I notice all the people staring. We are in the eleator now, and there is a couple necking in the corner. I think the boy is from District 3 and the girl from Disctrict 10. The Baitkeeper doesn't say anything, which I think is ridiculous. They are violating the rules, the very same rule they had accused me of breaking. Yet the Baitkeeper holding me was watching them with a simpering smile on his face.
When the doors open on the twelfth floor, he says to the couple,, while holding a button that presumably keeps the doors open, "Good thing you two chose this elevator. Others might have reported you, had you chose any of the other elevators."
We get off and I am left to ponder why they needed separated elevators to each floor anyway, when the Baitkeeper pushes me to the ground and starts ripping at my skirt. I scream and the door to the main room opens. Someone comes rushing out and I hear smacks and other fighting noises but I have my eyes closed.
"Katniss?" a voice says after a moment.
I open my eyes to see Peeta looking down at me.
"Are you all right?" he asks.
"Yes."
He pulls me to my feet, and I see the Baitkeeper in the corner, blood across his face.
"You killed a Baitkeeper? But Peeta…we'll be kicked out!"
"He was guilty of lechery. Only the contestants in the Bubble Games are permitted to be lecherous," Peeta says.
"Yes, but the Baitkeepers aren't going to be happy you killed one of their own. They'll kick us out."
"Katniss, they're not going to kick us out. They think you're hot on the District 1 girl—excellent ploy by the eay—and they haven't had a girl from District 12 show passion since the 50th Bubble Games when Maysilee succumbed to Haymitch and she became his favorite sex slave."
"If she was his favorite, wouldn't she have been entered in the 53rd Bubble Games?"
"Haymitch didn't want her to take the chance. Don't you remember history at all?"
"I wasn't there, and neither were you. Anyway, you're the only one who cares a jot about history."
"Well, Haymitch didn't enter again. He let himself and Maysilee be put to death, along with his other sex slaves."
"That's good to know," I say, though I don't mean it. I look at the dead body, then pull Peeta along. "I hope this is the last death that happens on my behalf," I say.
"It will be, so long as no one else attempts to rape you."
"Hey, that word is forbidden while we're here!" I say.
"Oops." He covers his mouth, and for a moment I think he is cute in retribution of having said a prohibited word at the Bubble Games. We go into the main room of the twelfth floor, and I sit quietly, thinking about the events of the day. Well, it's late at night now…one A.M. or so. But I don't feel like climging into bed. I am afraid that I will dream of the District 1 girl,; so powerfully ddd the Baitkeepers drive that idea home into my mind.