"Yes-yes, alright then, I know settle down now though" Jonah Thrice's voice boomed over the applause as the Anthem came to a close. The last few claps dwindled out and he smiled at the crowd.
"Yes thank you! As you know we gather here to pick one courageous young woman and young man to symbolize the powerful District 4 for this years Hunger Games!"
Clapping again. I slowly slapped my hands together as well as I searched the screens which now scanned over the vast amount of girls and boys, grouped together by sex and region. I didn't spot myself, nor anyone I knew.
"Alright then yes quite down," the clapping stopped and he smiled graciously at the crowd. I couldn't help but image every lobster I had pulled my spear sling back for and shot right in between the eyes as they starred up at me stupidly, unsuspecting of danger. I rip off their heads as they withered in pain at the end of my spear and let it drop to the sandy bottom of the ocean floor, the warm sea swaying my hair back like wind instead of water. Jonah carried on gesturing to the two large glass bowls on either side of him with his red lobster claws.
"So, no reason to waste time, lets have our tributes!" He laughed joyously and reached into a bowl as the crowd giggled back.
"For the young ladies!" the cameras caught him wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. I looked one last time to my right, trying to make eye contact with Grifith. A head was in my way, I tried to look around it but couldn't. I noticed a couple of younger girls clench fists, bite nails. I hadn't even looked up at the screen to see Jonah Thrice yank a small white slip out of his claws. I hadn't even seen him do it, I just wanted to see Grifith.
"Cora Gil!"
Cora Gil. Cora Gil. Cora. I knew that name. That girl. I knew her. Cora. The girl next to me relaxed and let out a big sigh. She was young, maybe this was even her first year sitting her in these red chairs dreading if her name should be called so relieved that it hadn't. Cora Gil. Nadia who I had waved at earlier was now starring at me in shock. Then another girl I had Marine Science with at school. A girl who I'd been friends with when I was younger. A girl who's mother was my mothers Tuesday night poker host. A girl who sat at the table next to me a lunch. A girl who's father owned the snack bar at the beach. The girl who was one of my teachers daughters. A girl who my father had fired the father of last year. A girl who strung the prettiest seashell anklets at school for free, she had made one for me last year, I still had it on. It was on my right ankle. Light pink shells.
"Cora Gil? I am pronouncing that right dear me!" Jonah Thrice beamed up at the vast thousands of people giggling at his potential foolishness. They, relieved and relaxed, laughed back.
"Cora Gil? Come up here love, come here!" he was smiling sweetly into the crowd of girls presented in front of him, slightly to his right.
I thought my legs were jelly. Surely if I stood I'd knead over. I'd fall and never be able to get back up. I stood. Now every girl was looking at me. The one who had sighed in relief next to me now looked up at me in horror and leaned away. As if I had a disease. I alone stood in the titanic room.
"Ah! Yes there you are dear, yes there you are! Hello yes come here love!" he beckoned for me easily with his hand. I could feel my hands shaking. Cora Gil. Cora. When I looked up to see his face on the screen I instead saw the face of Cora. It was white, as white as the dress she was wearing and as white as Constantine's had been five years ago when she had been twelve. The girl on the screens lips where parted ever so slightly. Her eyes looked wild.
"Come on" he beckoned again. There was the slightest hint of annoyance now. That's what I think got me to move. I looked to the girl on my left who was sitting. Staring up at me with wide eyes. Horrified she was next to Cora Gil.
"Excuse me I have to get out" I spoke quietly. She shifted her legs to one side and when I stiffly went to walk by her she recoiled when our skin meet. Each girl I pasted stared at me. I vaguely recalled the sound of applause muffling the air around me as I walked. One girl, the one on the edge reached out and I felt her lightly touch my calf with her fingers. Touch her Districts female tribute. What an honor.
I proceeded to the stage slowly, I felt if I moved tot quickly my heart should surely explode, or, sooner, my legs would purely give out. When I reached the stage stairs placed directly in the middle a peacekeeper dressed in pure white, the foam of waves when they crashed, gently took my right hand and assisted me up the stairs. At the top I could see Jonah Thrice, so close to me and in person, smiling down joyously. I clutched the peacekeeper's hand harshly, I felt him whence slightly at the death grip as we carefully made our way up the stairs. My left hand shook, out of the corner of my eye I could see us climbing up the stairs, all in white, on the cameras. At the top of the stairs instead of merely letting my hand go I felt the peacekeeper squeeze it reassuringly and then drop it smoothly. I broke my glazed look as he handed me to Jonah Thrice to look at him. His eyes were set behind the glass on his helmet. He nodded firmly. Strongly. I felt myself nod back, not wanting to part from his young eyes but being forced to. My heart raced even wilder as I realized where I was. I could feel it throbbing under my jawline and in my wrists as well but I blinked and looked now to Jonah thrice who beamed hugely and almost frighteningly at me.
"Cora I presume?" he teased me then looked up at the crowds of people as they laughed. Over their giggles I heard my own voice, snarky and natural, hearing it as if I weren't saying it respond.
"Yes, Jonah I would presume?"
The audience hollered even louder at this and I noticed Jonah Thrice' shoulders relax slightly as he laughed to. I managed to smile as well, a smirk more, but that seemed much easier to me. Jonah Thrice took my hand like a ladies hand and kissed it. What was happening?
"Ladies and Gentlemen of District 4, your first Tribute to honor you in the 52nd Hunger Games, Cora Gil!"
There was applause, Jonah Thrice smiled at me, I nodded back. If he let go of me thought surely I might faint. He seemed to understand this also, no one had shouted to be a volunteer, he of course asked the crowd himself when they settled down, but I knew, he knew no one was going to answer his question. Gingerly he slowly began to loosen his grip on me making sure I was stable- I'm sure it would look horrible should I actually faint- and judging I was secure enough finally let go. I felt very alone then. So disgustingly alone as I stared at the endless dots of people who stared back at me. Judging me, studying me, maybe some even recognizing me. And the surviving Victors behind me. I knew what they looked like. Stony faced. Already realizing I was no Victor. I was as dead as Constantine. My hands did not tremble now but shook. I tried to remember the peacekeepers determined nod, his steady hand, and maintained, not a smile, but what I hoped was a strong face, a quite confident face. Jonah was talking and after a moment of silence I realized he had called the male Tributes name. I snapped my head slightly and looked to a screen to my right. I glazed over the one viewing Jonah Thrice and me standing together on the stage, not but three feet apart, and found the one reading a name. Fausto Gloss. I had never heard it before. I thought maybe this was at lest fortunate. Once- I recalled this from the back of my mind- I had heard from my grandmother that she had witnessed a Huger Games where a brother and sister had to fight against each other as Tributes for their district. I had no siblings but I had cousins. And male friends of course. Fausto Gloss was much quicker to stand then I had been. I watched him first appear, a speck across the crowd of people, then moved my eyes to the screen. It had not been four seconds that I had been studying his week little frame, his boney arms, his scrawny legs, that a voice in the silence boomed up loudly over the crowd.
"I volunteer as Tribute for District 4"
Instantly the cameras snapped away from Fausto Gloss and, after a second of searching, found an older boy standing alone in the crowd. He was much closer to the stage then I had been and in a couple of seconds was shaking away the peacekeeper assisting hand and joining Jonah thrice and me on the stage.
"Wonderful!" our host proclaimed, this time in what seemed to be true delight. The boy was very broad, in the shoulders and in the chest as I could see by his flattering cut shirt. His neck was thick and his lips were extremely full. I noticed the cords of mussel in his calves as he climbed the stairs to meet us. In some very small quiet part of the back of my mind I managed to voice a sarcastic "of course". Not only had there only been a volunteer for the males but this one (like most) was built like an ox. I thought he might be able to throw both Jonah Thrice and myself off the stage in one graceful swipe.
"Wonderful, wonderful", Jonah Thrice repeated again shaking the boys hand and slapping his shoulder proudly. If the cameras were showing me I assumingly looked disgusted as I glared at the two of them.
"And what is your name young man?"
"Roman Price, sir"
"Ah yes, yes strong name I assure you and not so far from another strong sure name may I add. Thrice, Price, you gotta love it folks."
The crowd cheered happily, laughing along. Roman offered a small forced smile. I managed a twitch of my lips.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, of District 4, your final Tribute to honor you in the 52nd Hunger Games, Roman Price"
The clapping and whistling and overall praise Roman received was, if not deafening, absurd. There were chants and hollers of "ROMAN, ROMAN, ROMAN" throughout the Justice Building. All he managed was a nod and a piercing look with his eyes as he watched the crowds worship him.
"Your two Tributes Cora Gil and Roman Price!"
They cheered and clapped I even heard a few lines of "CORA GIL!" before it was eaten up by the rest of the applause, but this did not settle me. I was feeling even more white, pale and weak. My face bounced around the screens as I stared at them. Some showed me live, my eyes again blazing against my papery face, others of me sporting what appeared a mischievous smirk from minutes ago, another of my reaction, cynical and cautious, when Roman volunteered. Roman of course had his own shoots playing majestically next to mine. Him volunteering, his confident nod, his present fierce expression. Jonah waved at us to gain our attention and gestured for us to shake hands. I felt wobbly but found myself matching Romans smooth stride towards me. He looked at me then, as we faced each other hands moving in to shake, and I saw his eyes deadly. His jaw was clenched and his brow was knit. I could then feel the strength he portrayed his handshake, nothing purposely painful, no just steady power like a strong current. And he watching me as well so I did the only thing that had always won for me against my mother's impatience, my teacher's annoyance, my friends rage, the peacekeepers watch. I smirked, unimpressed. I saw him knit his brow deeper, surprised, but then we'd let go and no one, even though they had been watching the event from their screens, witnessed the message that had gone between us. We were rivals now. And at least one of us now was unsure who had a chance of coming home.
After that Jonah ushered us though a door and deeper into the Justice Building, a place I had never been. I recoiled from any possible closeness to Roman, distancing myself as far as him as possible, slightly disgusted by him. He walked on, unfazed, serious. Jonah Thrice was speaking but I wasn't listening I felt dizzy and full of hate towards Roman. I stumbled slightly through the hallway and saw Jonah Thrice watching me judgingly. I thought maybe then I'd shot him a simple frown back. Whatever it was it got him to look away. He ushered me into a room. Now out of the eye of all of my District I felt a certain strength I had been resorting on, the strength of the peacekeeper, leave my body, slowly yet sufficiently. Like the last emergency air Papa told me scuba tanks carried. My air was dwindling low. I couldn't breath very well now could I. It was moment before I noticed I was alone in the room. That didn't matter much, though a part of me was a peace to be away from Roman. I was sitting on a couch also. I hadn't noticed that much also. And now I was looking at my hands. I was watching them shake without my command. Shake shake shake shake. I'd move my fingers and for a moment they would stop but then, sure enough, they'd start back up. It must have been a while that I watched them. I didn't hear the door open.