Chapter 2
I drag my sisters through the crowd as we go to Town Center. It is Reaping day and it seems I'm the only one who actually wants to go and get this crap over with. Everyone else is trying to stay away as long as possible. But that's not the way I see things.
The woman pricks our fingers, collects the blood that's been drawn, and checks off our names. Ed is behind us explaining to Max how to keep Xavier safe as we make our way towards the rows of scared children.
I go to the fifteen year old girls section looking for Sabrina. My name is in the bowl twenty one times, Sabrina's is in six times, and Lincoln's name is in there twelve times.
Sabrina meets me, she's trembling in fear.
"Lighten up," I say patting her on the back. "It's just the Games. It could be worse."
"How?" She asks desperately.
"I don't know." I say honestly. "But the odds of them picking any one of us is small."
Lincoln walks over to us. "Good luck you two." He winks at us. "Remember those strategies we talked about. Just in case."
I smile back. "You too, Nosebleed."
"What if Lincoln gets picked?" Sabrina asks panic-stricken.
"Then I'm going to give him a nose bleed. He'll look all macho. He'll fool everyone." I say smirking.
Sabrina giggles as our Capitol Guide bounds across the stage, hushing every nervous child in the audience.
"Hello, District Seven." Sparkle Grace says in her Capitol accent.
"Hello!" Lincoln shouts from the fifteen year old boys section.
"Anyway," She introduces our mayor, as if we didn't know him already.
I nearly fell asleep standing there with my head on Sabrina's shoulder.
"Okay!" Sparkle shouts.
I wake up with a jump and nearly kick someone in front of me.
"Ladies first!" She calls plunging her hand into the great glass ball. "Johanna Mason." She chirps into the microphone.
Whoa, what? Lincoln's voice echoes through my head as I try to process what just happened. Strategies.
I drop to the ground on my knees and dig my thumbs into my eyes until tears flow from my eyes.
"No," I hear Sabrina whisper. Someone helps me up as I become an emotional wreck. Those that know me aren't entirely convinced, but they're not the people I'm looking to fool.
I sob into the shoulder of whoever is helping me to the stage. I keep my head down occasionally shivering with laughter, which could be mistaken as a sob.
Some twelve year old boy is called up for the male position. I'm led gruffly into the Justice Building. I'm shoved into a plush room. My crying immediately stops and I laugh until my stomach aches.
Scarlett, Renee, Max, and Xavier rush into the room with scared looks on their faces.
I stop my laughing and sit up to catch Max as he crashes into me. "You promised!" He wails.
"Well, I lied." I say a little harshly. "But, I'll promise you this, I'm gonna be back." I look up at Renee and Scarlett.
"We're gonna live in Victor's Village, we'll never miss a meal, and Mom will get better." I say looking back to Max.
"Show em whose boss!" Xavier says punching the air.
"That's right." I say fist pounding him.
Scarlett looks at me with a hint of amusement. "You're not normal."
"But, that is what is gonna save me." I say winking at her.
She smiles brightly. She was definitely the prettiest of the Mason Sisters. Renee did some weird thing to my forehead, and blessed me.
"I didn't sneeze Renee." I knit my eyebrows together curiously.
She starts to talk but the guards come in and drag everyone out. "Time's up!"
Ed walks in next. "Hey Jo," He sits down beside me.
"Hey Eddy,"
There was silence. "Listen Jo, I'm gonna need you to come back." He says looking at me.
There wasn't a trace of emotion in either of our faces. "I promised the others that I would." I offer.
"You did pretty well at the Reaping." He says smiling. "I'm proud. Keep it up. I know a punk like you won't go down without one heck of a fight."
"You can bet your sweet ass I'm coming home." I smirk, nudging his shoulder with mine.
He pats me on the shoulder. "I'm going to keep Max and Xavier from watching too much of the Games. Do what you have to." He stands up and walks towards the door. "Be careful Johanna."
"I will. See you in a couple months." I say with a smirk.
He chuckles and walks out the door.
I stand up and stretch my arms. Sabrina comes crashing through the door and into me, climbing me like a tree.
"Johanna don't die or I swear I'll kill you." She rushes in a single breath.
I push her off of me. "Yeah right, remember? Johanna Mason victor of the sixty eighth Hunger Games, crazy ax murderer, twenty four victims and counting? What happened to that?"
She smiles at me. "Every murderer makes a mistake."
"Well my mistake will be not tearing off the tree costume I'll have to wear in the Opening Ceremonies." I counter smirking.
She laughs punching me in the stomach. I punch her back.
"You're coming home got that?"
"I hear you." I say laughing. "Who's the kiddo?"
"Chance Brown." She says. "He's twelve years old, sweet kid. Let's see, all he's ever done, is work the tributaries. So he's pretty much screwed. Are you gonna kill him?"
"No, he'll die during the Blood Bath."
"Listen, Jo, you can fight with the best of em. You can run fast though, and for a long time without slowing down. Don't pick a fight that you can't win. Run if you need to." She says looking into my eyes.
"I've got my plan. When the Careers break up, that's when they see the real me come out. I'm not going to fight anyone until then. I'll run like a chicken without its head just fine. But then I really need to fight."
She smiles. "You're gonna make it outta there."
"I am."
The guards come and drag her away. The next person I knew was going to be Lincoln, and then hopefully my Mom.
Lincoln walks through the door and leans on it just staring at me. I cock an eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me to get outta there too?"
He gives me a small smile. "Yes."
I roll my eyes. Stupid, stupid, Nosebleed.
He takes three long steps towards me in quick secession and kisses me.
He freaking kisses me!
So, I stand there like an idiot not knowing what the fuck to do, when he pulls back, ruffles my hair and walks out the door.
"I trust you." He calls over his shoulder.
"That was random and completely unexpected." I say to the room.
So, from the boredom of waiting for my mother, I begin to rub my eyes. I rub until it hurts; then, I spit into my hands and rub my saliva, as disgusting as it sounds, all over my face. It feels disgusting believe me, but in the door handle I looked like a wreck with wet splashes on my cheeks, and red splotches all over my face. I run my hands through my hair and mess it up. It just completes the look.
Finally after awhile, the guards come in.
Meltdown time baby!
"No, wait, no, my Mom!" I shout. It isn't far from the truth. I'm disappointed that she didn't show, but it's time to worry about other things now. "No! I can't go! My Mom!"
I'm dragged through the cameras and crowds to the train.
It's obvious that Chance has been crying too, but he tried to hide it. Whereas me, I didn't even bother.
Sparkle shows us our rooms and tells us to get ready for dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever you wanna call it. She said specifically, "High Tea," But I'm not going to pretend what that is or why we're drinking tea. I enter my room. It's strange to see so much stuff and so many buttons. I decide to take a shower while pushing all of the buttons in the process.
I decide to comb out my hair by hand instead of using the thingy with the hair symbol on it. I don't know how to use it, and it looks like it would be painful. I throw on some clothes I found. A deep purple tunic and a pair of black Capri's, my left shoulder is showing and my hair still looks slightly tangled, but I don't mind.
I walk out, looking like crap, and over to the table in the dining cabin. Blight and Eugene look up at me as I sit down. I don't make eye contact. Until Blight says my name. "Johanna, I'll be your mentor. Chance, Eugene will be your mentor."
I don't acknowledge him but I hold the eye contact. Eugene speaks up. "Would you like to be trained together or separately?"
"Together,"
"Separately," We say at the same time.
Guess which one I said!
"Separately," I repeat. "I have no chance, Chance, though, he can still make it. I don't want him to suffer because I'm so incompetent." I say timidly.
I just want to puke.
"Oh honey, that's not how you should think." Sparkle reassures me, touching my hand.
Great, now I'm going to have to cut it off and burn the stump. I pull away as if my hand were on fire. She doesn't notice and goes back to eating.
I pick at my food indifferently. "You should put a few pounds on before going into the arena. You need staying power." Eugene says mostly to Chance but also to me.
We watch the Reapings. One was different; they had a skinny fourteen year old boy and a taller yet equally as skinny fifteen year old girl.
Two is horrifying with a muscular boy named Boulder, and an equally muscular girl named Hope.
They have no hope. Well they do, but- well, you get the point. I'll be making the best of that pun in the next couple of weeks.
Three is normal bloodbath material.
Four has a fighting chance this year, with Patricia, and Mason.
Five is pathetic beyond hope, as is six.
Seven, oh boy, is hilarious. There's me, crying and screaming, shaking like a leaf and just pathetic in general, and then Chance.
Seven is bloodbath material through and through.
Eight, is normal. They could win if they really tried but in all honesty we know they won't.
Nine is back to bloodbath.
Ten is average.
Eleven has an average threat. The boy is built like an ox although if he had been reaped in a couple more years he would have been in his prime and perfect for the Games. The girl is pretty much just a harvester. Although she has some amount of muscle. Nothing compared to Two though.
Twelve is just the epitome of pathetic.
I sigh and get up to go back to my room. Blight, unfortunately, decides to follow me. I sit on my bed and he stares at me.
He shuts the door. "You had me convinced."
I smirk. "Then I had everyone convinced."
He nods. "Strengths?"
"Running, chopping, I've got relatively good aim, I can throw an ax with the best of em, I wrestle well."
"Weaknesses?"
"Shutting up."
"We're being serious here Johanna."
"That's my other weakness."
Blight smiles at me. "You've got the right skills to survive. Score low, be a wreck, be pathetic."
"Got it."
He leaves and I don't bother to change out of my clothes before falling to a restless sleep. I wake up in the middle of the night with no recollection of my dreams. I wipe the sweat from my face, and walk out of the room into the television room. I flick it on with the remote and watch replays of the top ten best fights of the Games. Number three was Enobaria's famous throat eating incident. Number two is one of the older Games. Number One is Finnick Odair's show off with Two.
"That makes no sense." I mumble. "He didn't even fight; he was smart enough to stay out of reach. It's not a fight. I've been in plenty of fights in my day, and that is not a fight."
"You're right," Blight says behind me.
I don't bother to look at him. "They only put him on top because he's gorgeous. In my opinion Haymitch's showoff with that one chick from One, should've been at the top. He nearly didn't make it out of there."
"Why isn't it there?" He asks sitting down next to me. An unopened bottle of alcohol in his hands.
I think. "Maybe it's because he used the Arena to his advantage am I right? Rebellion and all. He used what was supposed to keep the Tributes in the Arena and turned it into a weapon. I guess the Gamemakers didn't like that? So now they choose unworthy sex god."
"Ding, ding, we have a winner." Blight says popping open the bottle. "You're smart kid. Get through that Arena, and you'll be a fantastic mentor."
"Because I'm so excited for that." I say sarcastically.
He takes a swig. "It's everything every victor dreams of."
We laugh humorlessly together, I lounge back and continue to watch the television, while Blight drinks himself to oblivion.
The next morning, I'm dead tired and fucking hungry. I get up, pick at my food and get ready to be shown to the public.
My eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. It helps my appearance. I splash water onto my face, and rub my face to make red splotches like I did in the Justice Building back in Seven.
Oh I'm a mess. I give myself a small, sad, shy smile. It's perfect for the cameras. As we enter the Remake Center, I shy away from photographers and fans.
What I want to do is glare at everyone, maybe slug a guy or two. Break something.
Just get out of my face!
I'm pushed towards three very scary looking people. A short, portly guy has yellow hair falling out and a tattoo of a bird in flames on his bald spot. The tall, skinny, chick is literally a chick. Beak and all. The third thing, I don't know if it was a boy or a girl or even human. It was frightening. It had stripes, and whiskers, and fur, it was just frightening. It looks like a cat of some sort.
I stare at it with wide eyes, a hundred and two insults running through my head at once.
The guy's name is Randy. A normal name for an abnormal species. The chick is named Hazel. Again a normal name. Has the world come to the end?
Wait, the cat's name is Tigris. The world has regained its balance. They cluck at me and drag me into a room.
"Don't fight them." Blight calls with a drunken smirk as they drag me off.
I send him a glare before disappearing around a corner. I didn't have to fake cry as they pull every hair on my body out of my skin. Apparently they speak English because I got scolded for my choice words several times.
Hazel clucks at me again. "Johanna, language."
"Hazel, pain." I snap.
This shut her up. "She's a lot tougher than I thought she would be." Tigris purrs to her companions.
Neither listen to her. "She's a lot tougher than I thought she would be." Randy chirps.
Dimwits. I just want to get in the Arena and get out. Like a cold shower or something.
"It's my strategy." I snap. "Now shut up and let's get this over with."