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Coleen Morisette
District Four Female, 18 Years Old
"Attention, tributes. Attention."
Turning around to the monotonous voice, my eyes drift upwards, noticing a man hovering over us on a balcony. He's tall, a little too tall in my opinion, and is rather muscular. His arms are leaning on the balcony edge, his back hunched over, his shoulders broadened. Giving him my full attention, I listen carefully, already predicting he's about to say to us.
"My name is Titan, and you will address me as such," he says, his voice cold. "I will be your Head Trainer for the next three days, whether you like it or not."
I'd prefer to train on my own, only because I know what I'm capable of and I don't need any extra assistance. I'd rather work on my own, train on my own, and do things on my own, without his advice or his interference. I'll get over it, though, since maybe I can learn a few things. It's doubtful, but there's always the chance that I can something out of this that I didn't get by training back in Four.
"Soon, twenty three of you will be dead," he deadpans, his face remaining stoic. "One of you will be alive."
Smiling at his words, I take them to heart, knowing that the person he's referring could be me. It could be anyone, to be honest, but I won't doubt myself. Not this early on, anyway; I still have time to fulfill my potential and to concentrate on my own talents and abilities. And then, hopefully, I'll be that one to be alive.
"That one person is among us right now, while the twenty-three are the rest. Who that one person will be all depends on what you accomplish over the next three days; we are now in the Training process."
I crack my knuckles, the longing to just go and train already overwhelming me. I don't need any pep-talk or a word of advice; I'll be just fine on my own. He's telling me everything I already know, from a mixture of what the Training Academy told me in Four about and what I already knew from personal experience.
"The rest, you know what to do, and if not, that is why you're here."
It's funny – how ironic he is. If you don't know what you're doing, there's no point of you even trying today, and if you do, here's your chance. I'm not saying that only Career Districts know what they're doing, since I do understand that other Districts have their own talents, such as Seven or Eleven. But, I do, however, think that we're just better off.
We just have that edge that a victor needs.
"Train, tributes. That is all I can say."
And that's what I plan on doing.
Orson comes over towards me, and without greeting him, I walk to the center of the Training Center. He follows me quietly, his boots clicking against the floor, making him seem like my lapdog already. It could come in handy, but whether I'd use someone so early on is debatable. Soon, the two from District Two make their way over, the two of them looking like complete opposites.
The boy is sauntering over towards, his good posture contrasting to the girl's slouched back and frizzy hair. She takes her whole hand to push it back, while the boy gracefully slicks his hair back some more. Whatever his name is more muscular than her, looking a tad athletic, definitely piquing my interest.
I can tell that this Career Pack will be varied this year, and with me in charge, I'll make it work.
"Helios Villard," he states, holding out his hand.
Orson shakes it, but I look past him, ignoring his gesture. I just don't want for Helios to think that this is some camaraderie; it's just an alliance, and that's all it is. I don't plan on forming any bonds or genuine friendships, they are just my allies and to help my chances.
"This is Cassio-" Helios starts, getting a glare from the girl next to him. "I mean, Cassia. This is Cassia."
"Welcome, Cassia," Orson replies, fidgeting a little as he extends his hand.
The two tributes from District One are making their way over finally, the girl's appearance just making me roll my eyes; another District One female through and through, no doubt. The boy looks just as pristine as the girl, both of them with a smirk on their face. They walk in unison, with the right foot first and then the left. Once the boy sees me looking, he waves his hand, while the girl just stares directly at me.
"Hi, I'm Orson and this is-" Orson begins, holding out his hand to them too, but is cut short by the One girl's sharp voice.
"I don't want to hear it," she says bluntly, taking her hand to push down Orson's. "I'm Aoife, this is Fabian, and I plan on taking responsibility of this year's Pack."
I hold back any emotion, even a laugh or a snort. Staring at her for a little, I take her image in, her tanned skin and athletic body making me a tad jealous. I get over it quickly, though, knowing that she wants exactly what I want. We all want the same thing at the end of the day, and I can't let her have it.
"Pardon?" I blurt out, already showing too much emotion. "Shouldn't we do this more fairly?"
"Why would we do that?" She retorts, giving me a disgusted look. "I'm in charge, does anyone have any objections?"
Without letting anyone respond or give her anymore satisfaction, my words just slipping out of my mouth. "Yes, actually, I do."
"It was rhetorical, sweetie," she quips, that same stupid smirk on her face. "I don't actually care."
"Listen, Aoife; this isn't how things are going to work," I snap back, trying to push down my anger. "It isn't your choice to just assign yourself as leader."
"Aren't you doing the same? Didn't you plan on being the leader?"
I'm taken back a little by her words, knowing that I was planning on doing the same thing she's doing right now. It might be hypocritical, and I'm not trying to excuse myself for it, but I didn't want it to be like that. I was going to offer, see what they say, and to be honest, I was going to be the leader regardless. And when I say this, trust me; I'm not going to let some bimbo from One tell me what to do.
Aoife over here won't get away with it that easily.
"As I said, I am Aoife, your leader. Now, I want a line in front of me, and I want you to tell me your name, age, and any talents you think are worth my time," she spits out, clapping her hands.
Helios and Cassia shuffle a little bit, hesitantly forming a line. Orson begins to step towards the others, and I put my hand out in front of him, my body shaking with anger. She really has the nerve to tell us to form a line?
"Stop it, you three," I command, my voice serious. "I'll give you one more chance, Aoife, to cut the shit."
Aoife lets out a giggle, fixing her hair after she swallows her laughter. "Don't get so uptight, Coleen. You just have to understand that you aren't going to get what you want."
"Is that so?" I ask, my voice shaky. "Will I really not get what I want?"
Aoife puckers her lips, nods her head, and then looks at her nails. "Why, yes, you won't."
Resisting the urge to have an outburst right now, I calm myself down, knowing that just getting mad over her is giving her the satisfaction she wants. She's doing this on purpose, to antagonize me, just to get on my bad side. Aoife's just doing this all on purpose, but I'm still not over her trying to be leader.
That is my role, and whether she likes it or not, I'll be a leader of something.
"Guys, come on," Fabian interjects, his high-pitched voice striking come on. "Let's just vote: Who wants Aoife as leader?"
After he asks his question, he raises his own hand, followed by Aoife. Helios, Cassia, and Orson remain silent, not moving a muscle or even looking like they're breathing. Their eyes are shifting from side to side, probably trying to assess the situation to see if we're serious.
"I want Coleen," Cassia mumbles, her eyebrows furrowing. "I don't like you, Aoife."
"Sorry, Coleen," Helios adds, already standing next to Fabian. "I'm going with Aoife, if you don't mind."
Orson is already standing next to me, his hands clenched into fists. "I'm for Coleen."
Well, either way, we're at another stalemate. Even though we just attempted to solve this fairly, we're still at 3-3 tie. Aoife's probably going to take this as a sign that she still deserves to be the leader, for some odd reason.
"How about we make things interesting?" Aoife chimes in, the smirk on her face wider. "How about we divvy up the Careers this year? I'll take Helios, Fabian, and I, and I'll recruit anyone else I can. You can have the rest, Coleen."
At first, I don't like the idea or even understand it. But, after I think about it, it makes sense. If we were to have two separate groups, our problems would be gone. Sure, we'd only have three people, but like she suggested, we can recruit more. I can recruit the other tributes that seem to be promising or show potential. It's not something I'd like to, but at this point, I have to do.
I can't let Aoife think she's superior to me. I didn't volunteer to be passive, did I?
"Fine," I snap, turning my back to the three of them. "This isn't over, Aoife."
"It won't be over until you're dead, Coleen," Aoife quips again, the sound their footsteps walking away making me madder.
Now she's talking about me being dead? Isn't she insinuating that she wants to kill me?
Aoife's just taking it too far now. She's taking this as some challenge, as some tournament to prove her dominance, just to make herself feel better. It's petty to me, but if she wants a challenge, I'll give her one. I don't know what Cassia can do, but I know some things about Orson, and by the looks of it, we're the stronger group.
Fabian's just a child, Helios is too proper, and Aoife… she's reckless.
If they're serious about recruiting other tributes, I have to do the same. It's just another problem to deal with, really; now, it's going to be a scramble for any tributes that seem promising or show potential. If I want to accrue the tributes that will benefit me most, I have to act quick.
I can't waste my time training; I have to complete my group.
And, as much as I hate receiving help, I have to suck it up now. This time, I'll be asking for the help, seeming all weak and pitiful to the other tributes, but I have to deal with it. It's hypocritical of me, once again; I reject any help that's offered to me, but now, I'm asking for help.
I'm asking help all to prove something to this stupid girl.
But, isn't that why I volunteered? To prove myself?
To show who I really am?
Devan Halloway
District Five Male, 17 Years Old
"It's vexing, how erroneous your endeavors to achieve a quintessential score is."
What?
Stiffening up at the sound of the deep voice behind me, I slowly turn my head, the figure behind me making me narrow my eyes at him. His tall frame, with his pale skin reflecting the light off of it, hovers over me, his face covered by the shadow of his own body. He's scrawny in nature, and the way his body is disproportionate with the rest makes me want me to laugh, but I don't make a noise or respond to him in any way.
I turn back around, restarting the simulation, and I prepare myself to ignore him as long as he's behind me. Continuing with the game, I assort the plants into edible or poisonous, and every time I get one wrong, I hear a snicker from behind me. I clench my teeth, trying to push his noises out of my mind, knowing that what he thinks doesn't matter.
I'd like to see him try and do this; maybe then I'd laugh.
"Incorrect," he whispers, his voice creepily quiet. "Incorrect again."
After trying a few more times, I still manage to get most of them wrong, always placing them in the edible section when they're poisonous. I restart the program, about to try again, maybe this time without this boy's side comments. After I start it, I get the first one wrong, expecting the boy to say something.
"Incorrect," he repeats, his body hunched over, looking down at my screen.
And that's when I say something.
"Do you mind?"
"No."
Standing up, choosing to not respond to him again, I try to think if I should just walk away or try to talk to this boy. I'm sure I wouldn't get anything interesting out of him, so it'd be best just to walk away, but something's keeping me here. I just don't know what.
"No what?"
"I don't mind."
Nodding my head, trying not to shake my head at disbelief at what this boy is saying. "Why are you speaking like that?"
"I'm Fausten Fraser from District Six," he says, standing up straight. "And you are?"
Staring at him, I choose once again not to answer, not wanting him to know anything about him. I don't want to tell anyone my name, mostly because I don't want them to get to know me. I don't want to make a friend or a pal, knowing that any relationship here would be pointless.
They'd all end in the same way.
"And you are?" He repeats, his voice staying the same pitch.
"Devan, from Five," I finally tell him, my voice quiet. "Is there a reason you're here?"
"I'll be frank in this current situation, being more than aware that you want me to depart soon."
Why does he feel the need to talk like that?
"I, Fausten, want to be allies with you, Devan."
Allies?
But, I barely know him. Even though I know nothing about him, he probably just wants to use me somehow. He started this conversation all for some purpose, for some way to make his victory easier. He'll just use me in the process, and through his deceit, he expected me to fall for it.
"Why?" I ask, genuinely curious about his motives and why he's asking. "Why me, of all people?"
"You're an interesting specimen who piqued my interest. Do you accept my offer for an alliance?"
As much as I don't want to, I want to say yes. As much as I interest him, he interests me. I know I'm so used to pushing people away and closing myself off, but this time, I don't want to do that. Even if I say yes, I don't have to go through with it, but if that's the case, then I'd be deceiving him as well.
Wouldn't being allies form some relationship between us, though? Something I've always tried to avoid.
Back in District Five, I trusted no one. I've never bothered with the people that were around me, the same people I saw every day and the people I've lived with for most of my life. I never gave them any attention, knowing that they'd have some ulterior motive in talking to me and that they wouldn't actually care for me. So, in return, I lacked care and concern for them and their well-being.
I've seen many sides of different people, and I know what to look for now.
As I get older, I become more perceptive and knowledgeable about people, but I don't know about Fausten. As I said, he seems different, but I don't know why. One thing I do like about him is how honest he is; I do respect and require honest in a person. He is telling me that he's only wanting to ally with me because I'm interesting, which is kind of odd, so I don't really know how to react to that. He's so atypical, that's the word. He isn't what you expect for someone coming from such a District like Six.
"Yes," I utter, the word coming out of my voice quietly. "I accept the offer."
With that, Fausten turns around, and begins to walk away. He doesn't look back, and I feel like I should say something after him, but I go against it. It'd draw too much attention, something I don't want right now, and I really don't have anything else to say to him. He might interest me, but something's not right about him; making an alliance and then leaving me right after I accept it.
I shake my head, turning back around to the station I'm at. Although I don't know much about survival skills, I figure that I should deal with it at least a few times while I'm here. In the past arenas, they've come into play with several tributes, so that just makes me think that I should take the time to do something with them.
They could come in handy, if you really think about.
A few years ago, about ten, I believe, the arena was a greenhouse. There was no actual food in it, only plants, fruits, and such. It's one of the only arenas or Games I remember, mostly because of the arena; it was so different and so much more survival-based than others. If the arena this year is anything like that, I'd be prepared, but if it's not, I'd be prepared as well.
Not that I'm content with going into the Games, but I don't have much of a choice anymore. I know what to do, that's about it.
I'm not heartless to the point where I like seeing people I dislike die, but I'm not overly bothered by the Games. I do think they serve some purpose for the Capitol, but overall, they don't bother me. I watch them, I flinch when someone dies brutally, but I get over it. All I do is turn off the television and then live my life like any other day.
But, now that I'm in the Games, it might be different. I can be that person that dies brutally, and even then, the thought doesn't bother me that much.
The only thing that is off-putting to me is that my life is now in the hands of the Capitol. Besides that, I don't think much of the Capitol, but I do understand it. When it comes to authority, I know enough to remain distant and keep to myself, and not to get in the way of the Peacekeepers or make myself known in the District.
One thing I don't like is the way they treat the Districts; not just five, but all of them. I think about it from time to time, but then I realize the people I'm thinking about. It's just people from another District that I probably wouldn't care about, so why should I care about them as a whole?
I get over things like that quickly and easily.
While others dwell on the way the Capitol treats the Districts and how horrible the Games are, I don't. As much as I do think about it at times, I feel nothing towards them; I just feel numb. And that's what my life has been like for a while now.
Just one numb experience.
Averil Disoto
District Eleven Female, 15 Years Old
Fondling the pieces of crumbled leaves in my hand, I can't help myself but reminisce about District Eleven.
It might not have been the perfect place, but it was something. It was my own home, where my friends and families roamed, where I didn't feel like I had to be careful where I stepped or who I talked to.
Besides, what does perfect mean?
Every District – whether One or Twelve – all have problems. Poverty, famine, or just a gloomy atmosphere to it. Nothing's perfect in this world after all, not even the Careers over there, or even the Gamemakers up on that balcony. Everyone's flawed, and even though it might be weird to admit, I do have my flaws.
I laugh too often, I joke too often, and I miss out on making friends. In District Eleven I didn't really have that problem, since everyone was so nice and so friendly to me, but that's not the case here. Barely anyone wants to talk, and whenever someone does talk to me, it's about the Hunger Games.
I felt safe and welcomed in District Eleven, and to be frank, I don't feel the same way here.
It just doesn't feel right… knowing where we going. How could it?
Soon, we'll be of into the arena. Then what? People will only become more closed off and less friendly there; and there's nothing I can do about it. So, why shouldn't I follow suit?
Why should I trust people who would only turn on me?
As much as I'd love to have allies, I would just feel uncomfortable with them all the time. Now, if I were to have my friends Dennis, Bronchi, or Eliorna here, then maybe I would ally with someone. But, since they aren't, I won't think about it. I just feel like that I'd be better off on my own, not having to rely on someone or putting my safety in their hands.
They would just hold me back.
Hold me back from what, though, I'm not too sure. Winning isn't something I can see happening in my future, and I accept that. I accept my future, whether I die or not, but that's just because I'm unaware of what's coming for me. I might do well, I might die in the Bloodbath, or I might win.
What do I know?
One thing I do know is that I hate the Games. Words cannot even describe my feelings for them, it's just so warped. So warped and messed up, for a lack of a better word. They are sick, twisted, and utterly disgusting – there's no reason for any of it. I don't see the purpose behind the Games, regardless of what the District tells me or what I am attempted to be brainwashed with.
I will never, ever grasp the concept of the Games.
It's just so wrong. So, so, so wrong.
And the only people I can blame are in the Capitol. The President, the Gamemakers, and the Peacekeepers. All of them.
The officials of the Capitol are the worst types of people. They send innocent children into the arena to fight other children, to watch for their own gain and entertainment. They are sick and terrible people, in my opinion. If everyone else agrees with me, I just don't know. I can't be the only one, though – I just can't be.
The actual citizens of the Capitol I don't detest as much as others, simply because I feel bad for them sort of. They're so deluded, naïve, and so influenced by the Capitol into acting the way that they do. The people have no idea what the Capitol does to the Districts, how they treat them, and how they punish them; they know nothing. They just sit back, watch the Games, and cry when their favorites die.
Not one of them had to work hard in their lives, so why should they be allowed to rely so heavily on the Districts in return? What do we owe to them?
Why would a District like Eleven be obligated to provide anything for them? Especially food? Why do they deserve to eat what we produce, just to ship away and not get any for ourselves?
Those are the questions I want answers to.
Especially the ones regarding District Eleven. They do nothing bad; they only do what he Capitol wants, so why do we get the worst punishment? Why do they treat us in such a poor way?
Peacekeepers are always strict there, always yelling or threatening to shoot their weapons. The Capitol just relies on Eleven too much, which only puts more pressure on the District. The relationship between Eleven and the Capitol is awful; Eleven complies with everything the Capitol demands, while the Capitol reaps all the benefits and still treats the District like garbage.
Eleven might be one of the poorest Districts, but the people there are lovely, and they always will be. Most of the time, anyway. It's beautiful and wonderful to live in, but I must admit, it'd be nice to liver in a wealthier District. That's all in my mind, since I know that can never happen. I would have always been stuck in District Eleven, but now, I'm in the Hunger Games.
And who knows where I'll go from here.
Tapping my foot, I wait patiently on the line for the climbing-rope section, watching the other tributes that are ahead of me carefully. I might as well use my time wisely; learn a few things about the people rather than just wandering aimlessly like the girl from Seven has been doing.
Alise, I believe her name is, tried to talk to me earlier. But, I didn't know how to respond; she asked why my skin was dark, so I just chose to ignore it. Whether she was joking or not, it wasn't amusing or intriguing enough for me to answer her. I simply walked away, coming right to this section.
The only people who've gone were the girl from Six, boy from Seven, and in front of me is the boy from Twelve.
The girl from Six messed up a little, but I don't blame her at all. It's nerve wrecking to do these things in front of so many people, especially when you know they are all watching you. The boy from Seven had it down pat a little better than the other girl did, but his foot slipped a few times.
The boy from Twelve looks different, though. He's much taller and more muscular than the others.
He steps up, attaches the harness around him sloppily, not connecting all the loops and clip all the way. The instructor attempts to tell him to stop and fix it, but the boy just walks past him, and steps up to the ropes that extend from the ground all the way up to the ceiling. The ropes on the actual ceiling are thinner, and by the looks of it, harder, probably for the more experienced tributes.
He places his foot on the first loop, brings his arm above his head, and without much hesitation, begins to climb. He's quick at it, too, swinging his legs to the side and then following through with his hands. He continues to go upwards, not messing up once or letting his foot slip. He's finally at the top, and he lets go of the rope with one hand, swings around, and dangles there. He looks down at me, a smirk on his face, and then he comes back down the ropes backwards.
Risking hurting yourself right before the Games, now there's an idea.
The Twelve boy is approached by some of the tributes from the Career Districts, but not all; it's only the two from District One, the boy from Two, and that's it. They walk away, and I am tempted to watch what they're doing or hear what they're saying, but I can't get distracted now.
I step up to the instructor, holding out my arms for him to put the harness on me. I've never done or used one of these things before, so I really don't want to mess it up. I wouldn't want to hurt myself, especially not right now. A harness might not be in the arena for me to use, but whatever; I just want to be safe.
The instructor lets go, gives me a gentle push forward, and I stand in front of the ropes. I want to follow what the boy from Twelve did, but I know I can climb without copying him. I used to climb trees and fences all the time in District Eleven, so this can't be too different. I grab one of the pieces of rope on the wall, bringing my two feet up on the bottom. I begin to climb slowly, shaking a little bit as I go.
Why do I feel nervous now?
I continue to climb, trying to push aside all my nerves, knowing that it's only climbing and I won't hurt myself; I've done this tons of times, and even if people are watching me, I can still do it. I'm almost at the top, and as I finally reach it, I make a larger climb on the rope, skipping over a few spaces.
I make it, and I smile to myself, glancing down at the ground. The instructor isn't even looking at me, the Gamemakers aren't looking at me, and no one is even on the line for this station.
Why am I so overlooked?
What makes me less important than anyone else here?
At the end of the day, we all have the same chances.
Each of us can die, whether we accept it or not.
Author's Note:
I'm running out of things to say..
Who stood out? Not just the tributes that had POVs, but others as well? Yeah, let's go with that.
And time for a personal question!
What is your favorite color?
