Hi Guys!
THANK YOU SO MUCH for following me to this story! I'm up to seventeen reviews already. WOW! :)
Hopefully you like this chapter. :D Thanks for all the feedback.
While you're here, you guys should totally check out my best friend's story: Bright Midnight. Her name is Kassady and she's listed under my favorite authors. Here's the link to her story:
fanfiction(dot)net/s/8020616/1/Bright_Midnight
It's a Twilight fanfic, and I can't wait to read more. For anyone who loves Twilight, there ya go!
On another note, you guys will find that Rose is almost nothing like Snow or most Capitol children. I will in later chapters go deeper into the different characters, their histories, and who they are-but these are just glimpses on the surface! Does anyone like Karryoun? I do! Haha! I love the name. :D
Sorry for not updating in such a long time. :P I had a busy Easter and family visited us! It was fun! We played with nerf guns. haha!
Thanks so much!
-Homey :)
Disclaimer: You'll find at least one character in this chapter created by Suzanne Collins, who also created The Hunger Games. That was not my idea!
©HomeschoolGirl 2012, characters and plot. Please don't use this as your own. Thanks!
I make my way down to the cafeteria in the morning. Warily, I peek around the corner. Everyone sits at tables, eating vigorously. About ninety-five percent of the people are Capitol children, the rest trainers or chaperons of some type.
I grab something to eat and had over to Art's table, where he sits with Karryoun, Sander, and our other friends: Bena, Emera, and Tercer.
"Hi," I say, plopping my tray down on the table.
They all greet me with a smile-every last one of them. It makes me furious. How could they possibly smile?
I sit down next to Art and am about to point out that fact when Emera lets out a whine, putting her head in her hands.
"I don't like working out. I hope training isn't hard."
Bena rolls her eyes. "Please, Emera. That's going to be the easiest part."
"That's because you're skinny! And athletic!"
I reach forward to pluck a crumb of toast from Bena's pecan-colored hair. It hangs, straight and long, casting shadows over her angular face.
"Don't forget this."
She takes it and shoves it into her mouth, causing Bena to squeal and point out how disgusting she is. I notice Karryoun, for the first time since sitting down. She's quiet, reserved. So unlike herself.
"Well, I'm psyched for training," Sander says, slapping his hands down on the table. "I can't wait to show them who's boss."
Karryoun rolls her eyes. "Shut up, Sander."
"Ooh, someone's touchy," he teases, bumping against her shoulder.
She glares at him. "I said shut up."
Emera folds her arms across her chest. "Who do these people think they are, anyways? Like, our leaders? As if. For years we ruled them."
"You didn't," Tercer says. "Snow did."
They all turn to look at me, then, looking apologetic.
"Don't be sorry," I say, "It's true."
"Aren't you sad?" Bena asks, laying her hand on my wrist. "If you need to talk about him, we're here-"
"No! I'm not sad. It's the best thing that ever happened to me."
Karryoun's face crumples. "Don't say that, Rose."
"It's true! We're all here because of him."
Art purses his lips. "We should-"
We're interrupted as a loudspeaker crackles to life.
"All twenty-four of our tributes are expected to be in the training room within ten minutes. Not attending will result in consequence. Please go to your proper locker rooms to shower and suit up. I repeat: all trainees are expected to be in the training room within ten minutes."
The sound fades away and everyone rises. I feel empty as I shuffle toward the trashcans and dump my tray in. Art waves at me before heading off toward the boy's locker rooms. I hurry along with Karryoun. She keeps her eyes trained on the ground.
"We'll stick together," I tell her as we enter the long room. It's harshly lit, with the blinding white lights reflecting off the long rows of mirrors. I take my clothes off and shove them into a locker, wet my hair, and slip into the training new suit. It's vinyl, and the material sticks to my skin. I don't have anything to wear under it.
"This sucks," Karryoun says as she pulls her hair back into a ponytail. "I look like a dog with wet hair and I don't have any makeup."
I purse my lips. "You look fine."
She throws me an incredulous look. "Fine?"
"Great. Pretty. Whatever."
A girl brushes past me, knocking her shoulder into mine. I turn and frown. It's Briar, my friend that I hadn't since our arrest. My grimace quickly turns into a smile.
"Hi, Briar," I say.
She ignores me, just keeps walking.
I turn and look at Karryoun, wide-eyed. "Why is she…?"
"I don't know, Rose. I'm sorry."
I take a shaky breath. "It's okay. Let's go."
We meet up with Art and Sander, following them down to a double pair of glass doors. Sander opens them hesitantly, and we step in.
The room is filled with mats, weapons, ropes, leaves…you name it. It's several feet tall, with a balcony overhead. This is also where the new Gamemakers will score us. I wonder what I'll get. Probably a one, just because of who I am.
"Line up! Boy-girl-boy-girl," a woman barks. Her brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she has a severe look about her.
"I wish she would shut up," I whisper to Art as we line up, me behind him. In these tight-fitting suits, I can easily see he's not as weak as I thought he was. Lean muscles ripple under the thin layer of material, and his neck is taunt and straight.
"Did you hear what I said, Rose?"
"Huh?" I jump a little, a red blush coloring my cheeks. "Um, no. I was looking over at the rope area."
"Oh, yeah." He throws a quick glance over to where boxes of different ropes sit. The colors range from dark brown to almost white, and they're different widths, lengths, and styles. Maybe I'll go over there.
"Stop talking, all of you," the woman snaps, heading to stand in the front of the room. "And listen up. As you know, twenty-three of you are going to die. I know that's not a comforting thought, but I've been through it twice, and believe me, it's not as hard as it sounds."
"She's full of it," I mutter.
Art laughs. "Don't you know who she is?"
I shake my head.
"Johanna Mason. She's been in The Hunger Games twice."
"Oh! That's her?"
"You bet."
"She's…different."
Art raises his eyebrows. "How?"
"Well…she…her body…"
"What?"
"You're a guy! How come I see it and you don't?"
"See what?"
I poke him in the back. "She's filled out."
"Oh." He looks back at her. "And?"
"And…you don't find her attractive?"
He throws an incredulous look over his shoulder. "What are you, jealous?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Really Rose. Are you?"
I turn my head the other direction, refusing to answer. I'm not the least bit interested in playing games with him.
"You are jealous, aren't you?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Uh-huh. Sure."
"I'm not!"
"Yup." He rolls his eyes and faces forward. "You know, now that I think about it, Johanna really does have nice-"
I pinch his arm before he can finish. He squirms and I press my nails together. When I pull my hand back, the fabric has a small slit in it and blood is seeping through.
"What the hell, Rose? When's the last time you cut your nails?"
I blow the tips of my fingers, waving them around like a gun. "Don't mess with me, Art. I don't like playing games."
"That sounds like a threat."
"Maybe it is."
"You two," Johanna snaps, marching down to where we're standing. She grabs hold of our arms, rather forcefully if you ask me, and drags us forward. Art gives me a suggestive look and then shifts his gaze to her chest. Nice.
"Since you find talking about me so amusing-" Art gapes; he's been caught. "I figure you'll be the first two up. Now, go ahead. Kill each other."
I freeze, staring at her. "Now?"
"Not now, you imbecile! Act like you're going to. Fight!"
I turn toward him, raising my fists. He quickly does the same. His face has taken on this determined look, and a little line settles between his eyes. It's kind of cute, you know, in a platonic way.
"Three…two…one…go!"
Art lunges forward, grabbing me around the waist with his arm. He takes me down in one fell swoop. My head bangs against the mat, which is surprisingly hard, and for a second my vision slants.
I quickly gain my bearings and use my elbows to propel me forward, sending me crashing into Art. He totters unsteadily on his knees before he falls to his back, taking me with him. We sit, looking at one another in stony silence, breathing labored.
"That's good," Johanna says quietly. "You can go back in line, now."
I notice the room has gone dead silent. People are no longer chattering, just staring. At me. At him. At us.
I stand up and brush past him without word, banging my shoulder against his as I go. Art sways on his feet before turning and lining up behind me.
We watch without word as our friends are pinned against each other. Right away, it's clear who has a chance of winning. Briar easily tackles scrawny Dorin, sending a fist to his nose in the process. After Johanna reprimands them for getting too rough, she sends Briar to the 'winners' side of the training room, where Sander, Tercer, a boy named Wain and a girl named Kayla stand.
My heart cries out as I watch Bena easily pin Karryoun to the ground. Tears spring to her eyes as she struggles under her muscular arms.
"That's enough!" Johanna exclaims. "Bena, go stand next to Briar. Karryoun, other side of the room."
One-by-one, people are paired off and split up. It pains me to see the weaker side of the room. I don't want anyone to die. I don't-
"Artimus and Master, you're up."
Master, a short boy with a self-assured stride, jumps up on the mat, flexing his arms. I watch nervously as Art, much skinner and breakable looking, stands directly in front of him.
"Go!" Johanna calls.
The two boys charge forward. Master is all muscle, while Art is skill. For several seconds, they avoid each other's attacks. At last Master sends a fist into Art's chest, and my friend crumples to the ground. The fight is won.
"Good job," Johanna says, looking at her clipboard. "Master, go stand there-" winners' side, of course, "-and you, Artimus, over there."
I watch with a sinking heart as my friend hurries over to go stand next to Karryoun. They smile at each other and then he whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh. Jealousy twitches in my stomach.
"The last two of you, Rose and Holly, up here."
I recognize Holly from school-a girl with an unusually pinched-looking nose and narrow features. Her fashions were atrocious and always gave Art and I a good laugh. Now, though, she looks as mainstream as the rest of us. She's in the same plain, nondescript suit, but her dyed-red hair does give her an unusual appearance.
"May the best girl win," I say with a smile, offering my hand.
"Woman," she corrections, wrinkling that hooked nose of hers with disdain.
I swagger up to the mat, already assured I'm going to win, when Johanna blows the bell and I'm on my back.
How did that happen so fast? What the-
I wriggle under a surprisingly heavy Holly, who has thrown herself against me. Her fingernails, more like claws than mine, dig into both sides of my face. The wild, untamed glint in her eye scares me. She wants this. She wants me dead.
"You're done," Johanna says. When Holly makes no move, she pulls her off of me. "I said you're done! Now, go join Master."
I get to my feet, clutching my bleeding face, and hurry over to where Art is standing. Karryoun greets me with open arms, whispering about the unfairness of this all. She pats at the blood on my face with a strip of cloth from her suit. It's not very absorbent.
"They should take care of that," she muses with a frown. She tosses the piece of fabric aside. "That's the least they can do. We at least kept their tributes from killing each other until they were in the arena."
"Yeah," Art agrees, looking at me with concern. "What was that?"
I shrug. "I don't know. Some sort of unbridled rage, I guess."
Dorin, who stands next to Art, offers us a smile. "Well, I'm glad to be the underdogs. It's more fun this way." I note that his nose has finally stopped bleeding.
"I'm not," I say, honest as ever. "We're going to be militated out there. They're going to go for us-the weakest links-and then take each other out."
"Actually, it'll probably be the exact opposite," Art argues. "They see that they beat us. They're going to be checking each other out. They'll leave us for later, since we don't seem as big of a threat."
"I guess that makes sense," I say at last, still clutching my cheek. "This is all unfair, though. I'm not sure how much longer I can take it."
"We're only on day two. We have twelve more to go."
"Crap."
Art slings an arm around me, then Karryoun. "We'll stick together okay, guys? We have an advantage that the other tributes didn't. We know each other. We care about each other. We're going to make it."
I shake my head. "It's better if you don't care, Art. Even if it comes down to the three of us, we'll have to kill each other."
Karryoun lets out a whimper, looking around her. "I can't kill anyone out there. I know everyone. Everyone. Killing anyone is like killing a part of me."
"Then we wait," I say. "We bide our time. They can't…well; some of them are going to turn into total savages out there. They'll kill whomever they can. Then we'll get them, the ones who aren't like they used to be."
"They're still people, Rose. Don't turn into your grandfather!"
The words go straight to my core, and I slap her. "Don't ever say that."
Karryoun grabs her cheek and fixes me with a look that could kill. "Isn't that something he would do, Rose? Hit people if he didn't like what they had to say?" She makes a sound of disgust in her throat. "You're no better than him."
She marches off to go stand at the farthest end of the group, away from me. Art won't look in my direction.
"I didn't mean that," I whisper at last. "I didn't mean to hurt her."
He swallows. "I think you did."
My eyes well with tears and I resist to urge to kick him. "Well, believe what you want to. But I didn't."
I turn my back to him and huff angrily, paying rapt attention to Johanna.
"Now, you'll all begin the training process. There are several stations set up around here that you may use to practice knife throwing, sword-fighting, camouflage and rope-tying, among other things. Do not hurt each other, and use your time wisely. No roughhousing or joking around. Go."
I instantly head for the ropes, where I sink to my knees and start tying knots. It's slow work, and annoying. I'm joined by the red-haired girl named Kayla and some kid who introduces himself as Uzzi. They're both on the winners' side.
"I saw you slap your friend over there," she says quietly. "What did she say?"
I shake my head. "Nothing."
Uzzi grins. "Aw, come on. Share with us!"
I glare at them. "I said nothing."
Kayla shrugs. "Leave her alone, Uzzi. She doesn't need anymore trouble."
We spend the next fifteen minutes in silence before Kayla stands.
"It was nice meeting you, Rose. I'll see you around."
"Sure, sure," I mumble.
Uzzi is quick to follow Kayla, leaving me alone.
I tie knots for several more minutes before a shadow passes over me. An arm snakes its way around my waist and I feel someone's breath at my ear.
"She'll get over it, Rose," Art whispers.
I shake my head, unnerved by his closeness. "No, she won't. I acted like a total idiot. I'm no better than Snow."
"Don't say that."
"It's true."
"Even if it is, don't say it. I don't want you to think like that."
I turn and glare at him. "Say it comes down to you and me, Art. Who's going to kill who? Are we going to kill ourselves?"
"It won't," he says with finality. "If I have to make it easy for someone to take me out, I will. Then you can win."
"I don't want to win! Why doesn't anyone understand that? I don't want to win. I'd rather die in the first bloodbath than waste my time trying to survive."
He shakes his head. "I don't believe you."
"Well, do! Believe me! I don't want this."
"Try to want it, Rose. Try to want it."
I turn, glaring into his eyes. "Tell me one person I have to go home to, Art. Tell me one." I pause, giving him a chance to answer. "That's right; I don't have anyone. I don't have a boyfriend, I don't have family, I don't even really have friends-at least not any that will be alive after this."
"Get a boyfriend, Rose. Have a family. It wouldn't take much."
I clench my fists. "And what if I don't want one? What if you and Karryoun and Dorie are all the family I want?"
"Then that's sad," he spits, pushing himself up off the ground. "You have meaning, Rose. Don't forget it."
I offer him a sad smile. "Art, it's you who has meaning. You could have any girl you want. You have a mother and a home and a future. I don't want to play around with you. I'm not worth it. I'm not worth dying for."
"What if I think you are?"
I laugh, trying to lighten the intensity of the situation, turning back to the knots. "Better go check on Karryoun for me. I want to make sure she's holding up."
He walks off without word, leaving me feeling hollow. Something burns in my throat. I don't know if it's sadness or hope. I have a hard time distinguishing the two, as hope seems to be born from sorrow.
And I don't even know if I'm sad.
