Seeing his mother's face when his name was called was something that would come back to haunt Connor McKinley. Was it relief? Dare he even think...happiness? To even begin to imagine that his own mother was unconcerned that her only son would be entering the arena where few returned was sobering. Finally, the difficult one, the son she didn't quite know what to do with, was being taken off her hands. She'd never have to worry about him again.
The crowd parted for the first in their number to make their way to the platform. Connor squinted as he turned back to face them all from the raised stage, the sun fully in his eyes. His knees began to feel weak and he noticed how his fingers were suddenly trembling.
"Our first tribute! Connor McKinley!" Moroni grabbed his wrist, forcing it into the air. The silent crowd watched numbly. A pair of peacekeepers stepped forward to guide Connor into the justice building. He was shown to a small wooden bench where he was instructed to wait.
The muffled sounds from the square were barely heard here behind the large doors and stone walls. Connor heard a name being called, knowing that this was someone he may soon have to face with a weapon. After a short while the doors opened again and some peace keepers let in a boy about his age, maybe slightly younger.
They nodded to each other, then the door was closed on them both.
The only sound was the scraping of Connor's feet on the footboards as he swung them back and forth, and the other tribute's fingernails tapping rhythmically on the seat. After a while Connor turned to his fellow tribute and smiled weakly, wondering how you start a conversation with someone whose death clock has just begun to tick.
"Well..."
"Hmm?" The boy turned to Connor, dark eyes framed by very long lashes.
"I haven't seen you around."
"I keep to myself."
"I don't know how I'm going to do this." Connor found it was easier to talk if he didn't look directly at the boy, but at the panelled wall just behind him. "I've never even held a knife before."
"You want my advice?"
"Sure."
"Don't say things like that out loud."
Connor thought back to some of the previous games he'd seen. The ones where a seemingly weak tribute turned blood thirsty at the last minute or when members of the career pack broke down. Appearance and reality were everything in the games.
"I'm Connor McKinley by the way."
"I know, I heard them call your name."
"I didn't hear them call yours."
"Ghali, Ghali Alupo."
"Nice to meet you." Connor extended his hand, but it was ignored. Ghali averted his eyes with a difficulty he didn't want to show outwardly.
"Sorry but, I can't make friends. It makes them harder to kill."