Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.
Calico Stocking, D8
Training days fly by quickly. Today we show our learned skills privately for the Gamemakers so they can give us a training score. I have a feeling I know what I'll do. I was decent at starting a fire, and shelters are easy to set up, so that's what I'm planning on doing.
I've never been patient. Waiting is difficult for me. It always has been, but I learned to cope with it. Counting by sevens, finding patterns in the wood benches, and daydreaming keeps me occupied until they finally call my name. I spring up and hurry to the door.
I became so accustomed to the Training Center being loud and filled with mindless chatter that the silence comes unexpectedly. I mentally berate myself. I'm in the Hunger Games. I should be expecting the unexpected.
The Gamemakers watch like hawks but don't say a word. I introduce myself, "Calico Stocking, from District 8."
Some nod in consent, but most just continue to stare. It's a bit uncomfortable. I shake it off and keep moving.
Organizing some kindling wood and dried brush together in a pile, I get to work quickly. Skip the matches. Straight to the flint. I'll get a better score that way. Anyone can start a fire with a match.
In one fluid motion, my hand strikes the flint against a special kind of rock and a flame bursts into life. The dimmed light in the room grows a bit brighter. The flame spreads rapidly, catching fire and blazing up the brush. My fire is set. I stomp it out and move on to the shelter station.
After successfully building a tiny shack, the Head Gamemaker, Annaliese Yvonne, dismisses me. "You are finished. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor." Why do they keep telling me that?
The next morning, the training scores are in. We tune in eagerly to see how the Gamemakers scored us. My stomach is full of butterflies. I start counting by sevens again to pass the time.
All the Careers scored high numbers, no surprise there. Most of the outer district tributes scored threes and fours. The District 7 girl scores an eight. That doesn't shock me either. She is the strongest and oldest tribute that isn't a Career. She has a good chance at winning.
"Calico Stocking," the announcer dictates, and I jump. Suddenly, my mind is whirling and I can't think straight. What if I get a horrible score and no one sponsors me and I am brutally killed in the bloodbath by some 300-pound monster?!
"Six."
Six!
"Wow!" Glorianna exclaims, her face lit up with a breathtaking smile. "That's even better than my old score. Well done, Calico!"
My escort, Mia, jumps in, too. "Excellent! Just excellent! I can get a sponsor with that! Marvelous!"
Axton congratulates me. "Nice job," he says.
"Thanks," I say to everyone.
"Axton Louis, four."
And we're back to waiting. Some of the other kids I trained with did well, too. Ethan got a five, Gideon got a six like me, and Emmie received a 7. She must have shown off her amazing fish hook skills. I bet she's hoping for an arena with a lot of water.
"Bedtime, kids!" Mia screeches, still hyped up and jittery from excitement. She is a Capitol citizen, after all. She loves the Games just like they all do.
