I Wasn't Prepared
Chapter 1
"Twenty seconds!" The robotic female voice echoes in the launch room.
I take in the meaning of the announcement. Twenty seconds. And thank goodness too. For barely a week, I've been counting down the hours. Now, I have only seconds until the entire country is watching me on television fighting for my life in the arena.
My stylist, a middle-aged woman named Ariella, quickly examines my outfit: A pale blue shirt with short sleeves, grayish-green pants, and brown boots that are made for running.
"Just one more thing," she says. She removes a navy zip-up jacket from a coat hanger and throws it onto my shoulders. As I fasten the zipper, she asks, "You ready, Annie?"
My reply is a very light chuckle. Ready? Please. She's known me for almost a week and she's just asking me this now? We from District 4 are literally born ready for this. I've been shaking in my boots with excitement ever since my name was called at the Reaping. And it helped that my parents came to me afterwards to offer their support.
"This is what you've prepared for, Annie," my mom said. "We know our girl, she never fails. Once she's been given a task, she never faces it unprepared."
My dad patted me on the shoulder and said, "That's right, girl. You go straight into that arena with your head held high and you show 'em what you're made of."
They were right about me. Once I have a goal, I won't rest until I achieve it. These Games are no exception. Both my parents had always hoped to be picked as tributes, and every year when neither of their names was drawn, they went home thinking maybe the odds would be in their favor next year. By the time they were eighteen, their hopes had been shattered. Now I, their only child, have brought those hopes back to life. I have been given the chance that they were never given: to bring honor to, not only my district, but also the Cresta family. I've never let them down before and I don't intend to start now.
"Ten seconds!"
When I hear this final warning, I know it's time. Time to put years of training in combat and survival to the test.
Before I approach the glass tube that will launch me into the arena, Ariella gives me one final, "Good luck, Annie."
I hardly think it's necessary. I'm a trained career, not some trembling runt from 10, 11, or 12. The odds couldn't be more in my favor. I've been given privileges those other kids can only hope to get, one of them being an alliance. I don't just mean a long-since formed alliance with my district partner like most tributes do, although Harper has always been a skilled fighter. No, I mean a real career alliance; the practically mandatory annual alliance that is formed of at least a fourth of the twenty-four tributes. On the very first day of training, Harper and I found favor with the tributes from Districts 1 and 2, who had been watching us succeed at everything from knot tying to spear throwing. And the rest is history.
Still, I feel that the least I can do is graciously accept Ariella's comment, especially since I've been feeling a bit of disdain for her ever since I saw the ridiculous costume she'd prepared for me to wear for the opening ceremonies. I quickly brush this feeling off and smile in response. Then, I turn and walk towards the glass tube. I step inside it, stopping on a round metal plate. Barely a second later, the sliding door of the tube shuts behind me. I take one more look at Ariella, who gives me a reassuring nod, and then the metal plate beneath my feet begins to rise.
At this point, I'm wondering what my surroundings will consist of once I'm in the arena. They never tell us, the Gamemakers like to keep it a surprise. Judging by my outfit, I can tell it won't be anything aquatic. A very small part of my spirit dies. Back home, I've always gotten praise for being a great swimmer. I can certainly hold my breath underwater longer than anyone in my class. So from the moment I became a tribute, I'd hoped the arena would be an island or at least something with a waterfall. I shared this comment with my mentors, and while they agreed that that sounded pleasant (especially Finnick) they reminded me that not all of the tributes would be built for swimming. A water-themed arena would easily cause all the others to drown and then the Games would be over before they could technically begin. After all, it's our duty as tributes to give the Capitol a good show. Regardless of the theme of the arena, I'll be prepared to make a beeline for the cornucopia.
My thoughts are suddenly interrupted when I find myself lifted from the underground tunnels and into cool, damp air and bright sunlight. Most of the other tributes probably need a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the light, but not me. I'm used to sunlight, having grown up by the ocean, which is always reflecting the sun's rays. Here, the sky is actually cloudy, but rays of sunlight are poking through the clouds as if the sun is prepared to burst through at any moment.
Suddenly, Claudius Templesmith's voice echoes around me. "Ladies and gentlemen, let the seventieth annual Hunger Games begin!"
End of Chapter