Once every single tribute has cleared their tray and returned to their seat, Jericho begins to speak.
"Okay, here's how we're going to do this: First, all of you are going to move to the walls of the room, so that custodial staff can remove the tables from the room," Jericho says, noticing a few tributes starting to move. "But, do not do anything until I tell you to do so. So, after the tables are removed, twenty-six chairs will be set up, and you will each take a seat in district order, with males proceeding females. It is there that you will wait for your name to be called. Once that occurs, you are to enter the Training gym for your Private Sessions. Any questions?"
As I had expected, nobody has any questions.
"Okay, good. You may now stand up and stand up against one of the walls."
We all stand up at pretty much the same time, which is honestly kinda ominous. For a brief moment, it's almost as if we're all robots in District 3 who have been activated simultaneously. Our group of four is quick to move to one of the back walls. The apparent three-strong alliance of the menacing pair from District 7 and the boy from District 5 stand near us and talk quietly as the staff rush the tables (which are on wheels) out of the room.
After they dispose of the tables, they get the chairs into the room. I honestly expected for them to line the chairs up in a horizontal line, but they do not do so. Instead, they set them up in a rectangle, with six at the "top" and "bottom", seven on each "side", as well as little breaks here and there large enough so that a tribute can get in and out of the rectangle. So now, we'll have to sit face to face with people who may take our lives in a matter of days. Or, we may be sitting with people whose lives we may take in the Games.
Once all of the chairs are set up, Jericho speaks once more.
"Mr. Amell, please come sit in this first chair," Jericho says, pointing to the chair.
One by one, Jericho calls each tribute to their seats. By the time it's done, the pairs from Districts 1-3 are sitting in the top row. Districts 4-6 and the boy from 7 are on the side near the girl from 3. The girl from 7, Districts 8 and 9, and the boy from 10 make up the bottom. And lastly, the girl from 10, District 11, and the four of us from 12 and 13 make up the other side of the rectangle. Alum doesn't seem particularly happy to be next to Treasure, though it will only be a few minutes. Sessions start at two, and the huge clock on the wall reads one fifty-six.
After we're all sitting in our respective chairs, Jericho announces that he'll be staying in the cafeteria room with us the entire time, though he will be at a bit of a distance so that he's not directly on top of us all. Having to sit face to face with other teenagers that either I'm going to kill, or they'll kill me, I suppose I'm slightly comforted to know that Jericho will be in the room with us. Us tributes won't be completely alone with each other.
"Wait," Alum chirps up, "if each Session lasts fifteen minutes, I won't be going in for mine until eight thirty?"
"I'm afraid not, young lady. I wish I could hand something out for you guys to use to pass time, but I am unfortunately forbidden to do so," Jericho replies sympathetically. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll be here the entire time with you."
"I suppose it makes me feel slightly better to know that I at least won't be the only one sitting here for six and a half hours. Thanks though," Alum tells Jericho dismissively.
Once Jericho heads back to a desk that he has set up across the room from us, the room begins to buzz with conversation. The Careers roar in anticipation of demonstrating their skills, and whole Outlying alliances profess their nervousness to one another. Even unallied tributes chatter away, even if it's only brief and with their District Partner. The nearly overwhelming amount of conversation in the room continues until, out of nowhere, a monotone, robotic-sounding female voice utters the name, Treasure Amell.
The room goes silent. Treasure immediately stands up, sporting a huge grin on his handsome face. He gives the group of tributes one last glance while his Career allies wish him luck. Treasure thanks them and wishes them luck as well, before confidently disappearing through the doors and into the Training gym.
Once Treasure leaves the room, the abundant conversation resumes. Jamie slaps me on the shoulder.
"This is gonna take a while, huh?" Jamie asks, already knowing my answer.
"Hell yeah, it is," I sigh in response.
One by one, every fifteen minutes, other tributes are called into the Training gym. Glitz from District 1. The pair from District 2, District 3, District 4, and on and on for what seems like an eternity. As tributes leave the room, the conversation and noise level gradually fall. District 5, District 6, District 7. Those of us remaining do our best to pass time. Converse with the others, play stupid, childish (albeit time-consuming) games like eye-spy, even simply worry. At least it's more entertaining than literally doing nothing. District 8, District 9. The eight of us remaining stand up to stretch, before eventually sitting right back down. District 10. I finally fall asleep.
Crocus Redhaze.
I'm woken up by the mechanic voice calling the boy from District 11 into the Training gym. Even though none of us plan to ally with the boy, his District Partner as well as our four-tribute alliance all wish the boy from 11 luck in his Session. The boy smiles slightly, thanks us, and makes his way into the gym. Five of us left. Only two more until it's my turn.
Upon thinking that, I once again begin to get nervous. My first bout of anxiety came around the time District 8 was called in. I sit quietly doing my best to calm down, though I know there's no way I'll be able to completely abandon of my nervousness.
The girl from District 11 is called in.
Jamie's next. The time between the girl from 11 and Jamie being called in seems not like fifteen minutes, but more so like an hour. Eventually, that metaphorical hour is up, and Jamie is called in. We all wish him luck, I gently grasp his shoulder, Bryen squeezes his hand. He bids us goodbye and luck in our own Sessions, then disappears through the doors.
Now I'm next. I know what I'm going to show them. A survival skill I'm good at, and my throwing knives. If I do well (for District 12), I can hopefully earn a five, or maybe even a six. I'd honestly doubt-
Iris Sanford.
Fuck. How has it been fifteen minutes already? Did they make some sort of error? No, the Gamemakers never make errors. It's already eight o'clock, time for my Private Session. I stand up from my chair, my hands already getting clammy.
"Good luck, Iris," Alum says kindly.
"Thank you. You guys too," I reply with a forced smile.
"Thanks. I'm gonna need that luck," Bryen practically whispers.
"Aw, I'm sure you'll do just fine," I assure Bryen.
Though I'm not too sure about myself.
I bid my District 13 allies a final good luck and goodbye, before turning around and walking towards the doors leading to the Training gym. If twenty-three others before me and two after me can do it, I can too. Fifteen - no, thirteen, as Private Sessions didn't exist until the 3rd Games - other girls from District 12 have done it in the past, so I can do it too. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and walk through the doors.
-x-
"Welcome, Ms. Sanford."
I glance up at the plethora of Gamemakers above me, and find Head Gamemaker Icarius Noblen, the one who greeted me upon my entry. I spot several others that I recognize from TV footage of past Games, though I honestly can't remember any of their names, especially not right now.
"Thank you," I stammer, unsure of what to say next, if anything. "I hope this will be okay."
Stupid.
"I'm sure it will be just fine," says Icarius. "You may proceed."
I figure that I'll show them my survival skill first, as they'll likely be more impressed with the knives than they will be with the survival skill, and I'd like to save the "best" for last. I hadn't honestly decided which skill to demonstrate up until this point. Edible plants? Snares? My legs start towards fire-starting, and for some reason, I'm incapable of stopping them until I reach the station. Seems like I'm going to make a fire whether I really want to or not.
Taking several deep breaths, I spend the next three minutes or so collecting some wood and coal, then starting the actual fire. Much to my relief, it doesn't take me nearly as long as it did in Training a couple of days ago. Once my fire is burning bright, I quickly glance up at the Gamemakers simply out of curiosity. They all seem just as bored as I had expected, and figure that if I gave into my nerves walked out right now, I'd likely score around a three. That's not an option.
I lift up a jug of water, and pour it over my fire, effectively putting it out. I stand up, take another deep breath, and walk over to a large display of knives on one of the walls of the Training gym. I take a full belt of throwing knives off of the wall, and fit it to myself. I numbly walk to the solid green line in front of the dummies, meant for tributes to stand at while hurling projectiles at the dummies. I take another deep breath, pick up a knife, aim, and throw it at a dummy.
It lands in the dummy's abdomen. Not a perfect shot, but it could ultimately be fatal, I suppose. My second throwing knife lands in another dummy's chest. I keep throwing, paying close attention to where my throwing knives land. Abdomen. Abdomen. Chest. Arm. Chest. Thigh. Chest.
I look up at the Gamemakers once more. I am shocked to see some of them nodding, and a few are even smiling. I take another knife out, and chuck it at a dummy, hitting it in the shoulder. Fuck. I threw that one way too hard. I'm down to one last throwing knife. One final deep breath, aim, and throw.
It lands square in the dummy's throat.
I return the belt of throwing knives to the wall, and stand in the middle of the gym, waiting for a response from the Gamemakers. Icarius Noblen pipes up.
"Thank you, Ms. Sanford. You may go now."
A/N: Well, I honestly did not expect to be updating again this soon. But, here we are, so we shall not question it! Anyways, any overall thoughts on the chapter? Any predictions as to how Iris, or any other tributes scored? This chapter was shorter, though I hope it was satisfying.
Until next time.
-Bo
P.S. For some reason, my account is doing it's thing again where I can't send out responses to PMs or reviews, so if you PM me or leave a review, simply be aware of that. *Hopefully* the issue will be fixed soon. AGAIN. Bo out.