We grew up this way. Struggling to both prove ourselves and once we knew the difference, not lose ourselves in the process. Often I found myself sitting on my bed during one of my rare visits home thinking about how it had come to this point. All the training courses, weapons, and survival skills I had learned since I entered the training facility when I was nine. My situation was no different than the other tributes in training, we all were stuck in the same ruts we were in eight years ago. Tonight I was due back in the training center by 1900 sharp, being that it was already 1700 I began throwing my meager belongings into my knapsack. The run to the training facility should take me close to 40 minutes and if I leave now I should be out of the house before my father gets home from his shift. We've never had the best relationship and frankly I find it easier to avoid him than listen to his rants on how poor of a life we have or how my mother doesn't do enough. However, just as I'm pulling on my training shoes and black tribute jacket I hear the door open, I should have expected it with the luck I generally had. "Shit" I mumble. The door opening only meant that my father was home and that never ended well. Especially since he was home from work about an hour early and he had probably already began with the spirits. I thought about dropping out my window but I learned with a broken arm from a previous attempt that it wouldn't end well, plus I couldn't leave without saying bye to my mom and sister since I didn't know when I'd be let go again. They sky was beginning to darken and I knew I needed to go to avoid the unpleasantries of being late, but that didn't make me want to face the other unpleasantry waiting me downstairs. In fact a part of me would almost rather face a pissed off instructor over my father. I took in a deep breath, counted to ten and let it out. Gathering up my nerves I headed out into the hall.
I slipped into my sister's room on my way to the kitchen to begin with my goodbyes. She was curled on her bed, a pillow hugged to chest and wet cheeks from crying. She was too innocent for this world we lived in. I went out of my way to shelter her from the horrors of the real world, worker my ass off in training for the rewards of extra tessere to keep her out of that center. "Sarah?" I asked sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Why do you have to go?" She asked, picking her head up to look at me.
"Because that's just how things are Sar. You know I have to go. But I'll be back. I always come back." I smiled at her when she gave me a look of disapproval, fresh tears on the brink of spilling over.
"I know. You always come back just like you promised you would. I just don't want you to go."
"Believe me, I don't either. But I have to go now. You keep the family together okay? Do your chores and be nice to mom. Don't forget your schoolwork."
"Okay" she sniffled and wrapped her arms around me. I squeezed her back before setting her back on her bed.
"No more tears. Kay?" I asked as I wiped away some hair stuck to her face back. She nodded and smiling I left her room to make my way to the kitchen.
He was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hands, something that annoyed me to no end was his lack of concern for our supplies, it seemed like he used without understanding how little we had at times. There was one time my mother did call him out on it but he only yelled at her and went on sipping his luxury drink. No point in me bringing it up again tonight after all my goal was to get out of the house with little altercations. My mother was standing by the counter reading something the the local newspaper and I made my way over to her saying my goodbyes. I pointedly ignored my dad until I was almost to the door and only then did I mumble a quick bye dad before it clicked closed.
One look at the sky told me I was later than I wanted to be. Again. Shit. I'd have to make it there in exactly 40 minutes so my run wouldn't be an easy one. At this moment I realized I had a partner in my run, my long time friend Cato Valdis, the frigid boy from the train my first day of training. Since that day we had both grown and finding more common ground between us, became friends. Of course we kept it very minimal at the training center because the officers often used that against trainees. We weren't encouraged to become anything but cold hearted machines to bring glory to our district. Cato and I, we had our act down. To everyone else we were the best of the best, but when it was just us we let our masks slip just a bit, and it seemed as if I wasn't the only one who was leaving late. "Hey" I breathed not breaking stride.
"Hey yourself" he countered and he flashed his trademark Cheshire grin, known to make quite a few girls weak. He had grown up extremely well. From that scrawny blonde kid who seemed angry at the world he had changed quite a bit and was now a wall of muscle and calm power. His grey blue eyes possessed more strength than most of our fellow trainees did in their entire bodies and he knew how to use every one of skills to get what he wanted. Or that's what he wanted everyone to think. Cato didn't really want half of what he got, but he had a facade to keep up. We had a facade to keep up.
We were both just turning seventeen and were on the track to volunteer this year, a little known fact to anyone except us and legally we weren't even supposed to know about each other's contracts but we did naturally. To those who were smarter than the collection of rocks making up the asphalt disappearing beneath my go-fasters anyone could tell we were the ones picked - of course they had backups who also had their training regimens increased but within the past month our training had increased threefold and our bodies showed it. I could feel the tinges of shin splints in my lower legs and knew my blisters on my hands would be ripping off soon, effects of the trade they called it. I understood. I didn't question things and did as I was told the first time and quickly. Partially why I had succeeded as well as I had was because I didn't draw the grueling attention of the instructors to myself, something which earned more than a few candidates hours of IT or "initiative training" known to break more than one of them and once you were broken you were done. I refused to be done and I refused to quit. That's just who I was.
The sky was beginning to darken, warning Cato and I that we were behind schedule and while I was lost in my thoughts I must have slacked off of my pace and it seems he had slowed as well not helping our present situation. I glanced over at Cato and it was obvious he also noticed what I just had and we stepped up our pace. The familiar stride we fell into was known to us from years of conditioning runs as well as our nightly treks back to the training compound when we were given those rare 96's we used to see our families. Leave always gave me conflicting feelings, if I was eager to return to the compound what did that say about me? Did I actually enjoy the training I was subjected to? Some nights laying in bed I chalked it up to Stockholm's Syndrome but I knew that wasn't all of it. I didn't want to lose myself but at the same time was I finding myself?
"Rachel." Cato's voice broke through my stream of thoughts, he rarely asked questions, Cato made statements and if I didn't know him better I would think there was no emotion in his voice, but I did know him better and he could tell I was worried about something.
"I'm fine Cato." I responded and before increasing my pace more I added, "but we aren't going to be if the peacekeepers catch us getting to the compound late." I dug my toes into the loose rocks on the road and ran harder, losing myself once again in the familiar rhythm of my breathing and thud of my heart as I exerted myself. The answer I gave was a way of avoiding the question and he knew it, just as I knew he could tell something was bothering me.
"Then pick it up slow poke, this isn't a daisy run Curls." He grinned before increasing his pace to get ahead of me. I gritted my teeth and sighed before chasing after him while silently laughing at his use of my nickname he had given me three years ago when we officially became friends.
I was working out at the compound after hours in our "free period" for the day and was switching between circuits concentrating on my upper body that day. Finishing my fourth set of prechter bar curls and re-racking my weights I had the feeling you get someone is watching you and I turned around to throw a sharp comment at them to find Cato standing there, arms crossed with a grin on his face that only served to make me angry. It looked like he was mocking me.
"So Curls you done with the bar yet?" He asked in a tone which only solidified the fact he was mocking me, something I was definitely not going to let him get away with even if he had a few inches and a good fifty pounds on me. This guy radiated arrogance and for good reason, at 15 he had better muscle tone than most our age and you could tell he certainly put his time in at the gym. Still I thought he needed his ego knocked down a few dozen pegs.
"Yes I am done. But I should warn you when you sit down not to let that big head of yours tip you over. Also, probably a good thing I took all the weight I was using off that way you didn't have to ask for help with that." His smirk fell for a split second before he carefully placed it again but he didn't respond so I wrote it as a win in my books and walked away with a grin of my own. Little did I know that was the beginning of what would become the strongest friendship I have ever had because after that Cato eventually (albeit with continued teasing of me at the gym) introduced himself with a slightly smaller head and we became friends. I started calling him Smalls shortly afterwards just as a way to irritate him, which much to my pleasure, it did a thorough job of. Two years later and he was my best friend, never would I have guessed that one.
A siren went off and we tore across the remaining stretch of gravel leading up to the compound, flashing the guards at the gate our ID's we slipped inside as the gates were closing.
"That was cut way too close this time. Way too close." Cato was bent over with his hands on his knees catching his breath, the back of his grey shirt was almost completely darkened with sweat. "Are you sure you're all good? You were dogging in that run back R." He tilted his head towards me, no doubt trying to analyze my facial expressions in response to his question.
"C'mon we have less than five minutes before they close the shop and we have to check back in because I am not in the mood to deal with the Sergeant Major tomorrow if we get marked AWOL." I brought my own hands down from resting on top of my head, slung my pack over my shoulder, and picked up a jog in the direction of the main shop. I heard the crunch of gravel behind me from Cato and knew again I only avoided his question momentarily, but that was good enough for me.
I let him enter the duty hut first and check in, hoping maybe he would head to his barracks before I was out. Truth be told I didn't know what was bothering me, I loved my job but I was scared of what could happen if I went into the games, or what I would be like when I came out. Most of all though, I was scared to go into the games with Cato. There was no way I could beat him and there was no way he could beat me, all we could hope was someone else did the job for us. Everyone knew the rules, one victor. With both Cato and I going into the games the same year it was bound to be one of us, I knew it and so did he, just as we both knew we wouldn't be able to kill each other if it came down to it. I'd put a knife through my own chest before letting him live with the guilt of having to do it and he would do the same. It would be interesting to see how the Capitol would handle that situation if it did arise.
My hopes of walking back to the squad bay alone did not get answered Cato was standing outside the shop arms crossed the same way they were when we first officially met back in the gym.
"Rachel." Again with the first name shit, this was the second time in a span of an hour he used my actual name and not a nickname.
"What?" I responded but kept walking past him towards the neat row of grey stone buildings the candidates were housed in. A lamp overhead was flickering on and off and I could feel the dampness seeping in, rain was coming which meant tomorrow would be miserable if they decided we needed to go on a hike. "Cato. Seriously. I am fine."
"No, you aren't."
"Am I not allowed to be quiet without it being labeled as a crime?"
"Never said that."
"Then why do you keep asking."
"Am I not allowed to check up on my best friend without it being labeled as a crime?" I hated when he turned my words against me and he knew it, exactly why he did it, little snot.
"Cato" I stopped as I reached the familiar, weathered front of building 4, my building. Turning around he was standing exactly as I knew he would be. The street light making his pale blonde hair and slightly tanned skin washed out in appearance coupled with the dark grey of his shirt, his arms fell casually to his sides and the 'no bullshit' look on his face, his eyes serious.
The wind blew causing me to shiver in the dampness induced by both the weather and my cooling body causing the sweat to dry on my skin and my hair to come even more out of the braid I had it in before I began our run. If Cato could give the piercing looks I was just as adept at giving them back, and they normally got me out of questions, just not with him. It seemed he was the one exception to all the rules, he knew how to push which buttons if he needed to and right now he was using that skill. "I know something is swimming around in that curly head of yours. Don't give me the look you give to all the new applicants."
I groaned and let my bag fall from my shoulder, of course it fell on the outside of my foot which earned a few cuss words before I answered him. "I'm blaming that on you."
He crossed his arms and laughed "I didn't drop your pack on your foot goober."
"No but you stopped me from going to bed so I had to set it down and that is your fault." I glared at him because I really didn't want to talk about what was bothering me because it was weak and I wasn't weak.
"Well the sooner you tell me the faster you get to bed."
"Like you're going to stop me? I'd love to see that one."
"Don't make me and we won't find out."
"Bite me." I grabbed my bag and ran to my building, locking the door behind me just as his body slammed into it. "Sorry but I am going to bed. Night Smalls!" I heard him swear and could tell he was going to bug me about it tomorrow. Let him. I'd ignore it the same way I ignored it today. They discouraged us from becoming friends for a reason, because no one wants to kill your friends when it comes down to it. Its also why they try and make us the way the do - ruthless killers didn't have friends and we didn't think twice before releasing an arrow or driving a knife home. All of our actions were so we would come out on top, self preservation they told us. Killers didn't sacrifice themselves for someone else, humans did that and to some degree they tried to take that away from us.