The A Team by Ed Sheeran
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly.
Armada Pruitt, 13, District Eight
District11-Olive
"I'll just bet your mentors are having you play up your cute-as-a-button looks for the interviews aren't they?" My stylist coos from across the room where her sharp fingertips rip at a seam that was sewn just a bit too tight for me.
"Um, no I don't think so," I say absentmindedly. I know that it doesn't really matter what I say, one thing I have learned is that most of the people that are assigned to take care of us really could not care less about us. Especially the creepy lady that has been making my clothes this week. I don't even think she heard my answer to that question. All she really wants to hear is the sound of her own creaky voice.
"Well not to worry," she says. "By the time I'm done with you the sponsors will be lined up around the block for you, darling."
"I'm sure," I can't help but snort. It's already pretty clear that not many people will be betting on District Eight this year, and if they are they will be betting on Avrie or maybe even Eira and not me. If my age and size aren't enough to deter sponsors than my training score and average rankings obviously will be. Sponsors really aren't something I'm going to allow myself to think about.
Maybe that's why I'm not nervous about the interviews that are going to be starting in just a couple hours. I have spent the entire day with my mentors and stylist, working on answers and letting Sylvie work on my face. Even with all the commotion surrounding tonight, I just can't bring myself to worry about it. It's not like I could really mess up so bad that I'll affect the opinions of my nonexistent sponsors anyway.
It's not that I'm bitter even. Okay maybe it is, just a little bit. I mean, if this whole being chosen to be killed in an arena thing was going to happen no matter what I wish I could have at least been chosen a few years from now. Maybe when my body filled out a bit more and after I've hit another growth spurt, or at the very least just aged a bit more. No one is going to bet on a thirteen year old kid, why would they?
And that is hardly fair.
"Oh isn't this just perfect!"
I turn towards Sylvie and my eyes immediately widen to the size of tennis balls. She is holding up my outfit for tonight, which I expected to just be a suit of some sort. The outfits for the boys' interviews are always dim in comparison to the parade costumes and even to the girls' outfits, not that I mind. I had hoped to be as close to invisible tonight as was possible.
Now it looks like I am not even going to get that wish, I can't help but think as I watch Sylvie swoon over the blue jacket she is holding. The pants are on the table in front of her, looking as normal as can be in a simple grey while the jacket makes my eyes burn. It's blue, and I don't mean a navy blue. It is bright freaking blue.
"Oh I know, it's simply visionary of me!" She exclaims and I swear I can see tears in her eyes, though they might be from looking at the jacket too long. "Colored ties are so boring. I am going to make you the next big trend."
I stand in front of the mirror about ten minutes later, fully dressed in what Sylvie promises me will gain me sponsors. All I can think as I look at the thing is how badly I wish I could run away and just skip this entire thing. Is it not bad enough that I'm already one of the lowest ranking tributes? Is this actually necessary? It feels like everything is just piling on top of each other, just waiting to fall all over me in a giant mound of suffocating embarrassment.
The blue jacket is the only part of the outfit that has any color, the rest of it is a light grey. The pants, shoes, socks, tie, and shirt; all of it grey. Sylvie adjusts the tie so that it is another inch closer to choking me. I don't know if I'm overreacting or if the stress of this entire thing is finally getting to me, but I feel like I want to cry.
"Don't you just love it?" She coos, stepping back to admire whatever she just made for me.
"No," I choke out, feeling the tears about to come but forcing myself to try and hold them back. "I don't like it. Let me take it off. Please."
"Oh don't be ridiculous," she scoffs. "You look lovely."
"Please, just let me go back upstairs," I try to say a bit more firmly but it hardly works. I feel a tear run down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away, realizing then that my hands are shaking. I don't understand why I'm getting so upset. It's one more night of embarrassment and then it'll be over.
No, then I'll be in the arena.
"What has gotten into you?" Sylvie says, a frown deepening into her face. "You don't say a word and then suddenly you're the fashion expert? Well it doesn't matter, there is no time for you to change so you'll have to go as you are."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak or else I might embarrass myself even more. Crying over a stupid outfit? If I haven't already convinced everyone what a child I am, I definitely have now.
"I'm going to go fetch your prep team to finish your makeup," Sylvie says as she heads for the door, leaving me to watch myself in the mirror. "For the record, I think you will blow them away no matter what you think."
Hunter Mathot, 16, District Ten
Call Me Fin
This is the moment I've been waiting for. The moment when every eye in all of Panem will be on me. The moment I can finally expose District Ten and the people who live there for what they truly are.
Once upon a time I was a nice boy. My parents constantly bring up my childhood, when I was a happy, kind, naive little boy who loved everyone. The perfect child they deemed me, but it's now that I'm truly perfect.
That retched District transformed me into who I am today; confident, strong, and most importantly good looking. I guess I have them to thank for that, but they also made my life a living hell.
If it wasn't for Cara, I would be happy I'm here instead of there. My sister was born different. I've no idea what it is, but she looks and acts different. She can't talk properly, and she has the mental capability of someone much younger than her.
District Ten shunned her. They laughed, and they gossiped. My family was a joke to them because of her, and my parents, ashamed, joined in on the fun. Cara wasn't a real person, she was just a means of laughter to them. It was disgusting.
The happy little boy I once was disappeared, and reborn was who I really am. Who I was meant to be.
I hate District Ten. Hate everybody in it, other than Cara. If it wasn't for her, I might try and make a life here in the Capitol after I win these Games. Who knows, I might still, just with her.
"There, all done." my stylist says, finishing up my outfit. I'm wearing a classic suit, a nice one I might add. I have on a bright red bow tie, and my shirt is unbuttoned enough to expose most of my chest. My stylist knows I'm hot, and he's using that to his, and my advantage.
"Follow me," he says without another word, and I do. He leads me down a long hall, and into an elevator that takes all the way down to wherever the stage has been set up.
A few more halls and we've reached the waiting area, where most of the other tributes stand around in small groups. I don't have to look for her, Lavender is already upon me when I step into the room.
She doesn't speak. She just stands beside me, eyes flickering around the room at all the other tributes.
I guess you could say I chose Lavender because she reminds me of Cara in a sense. She's stubborn, and definitely a fighter. Two traits I admire deeply in my sister. Plus I never really wanted to go into this thing alone anyways, I might have thought I did, but as much as I'd rather not admit it, the Games are a scary thing. And I just might need someone to keep me calm.
It's only a matter of minutes later when they call our names out one at a time to line up. District Ten and Seven aren't close to each other, so eventually Lavender and I are separated, though the nerves in both of us make it hard to concentrate on each other. She'll be fine, she can certainly handle herself.
I'm near the back, which means I've got a long wait ahead of me. There is one good thing about my placing though, Corlis is right before me, and I can guarantee she'll be a wreck up there, leaving it to me to swoop in and shine like I always do.
Make a few confident comments, make fun of the the careers a little, they'll practically be eating out of my hands. And then I can get the tears going, by telling them exactly what District Ten did to me and my sister, and when I win I'll have them all punished. Everyone who ever made fun of her will regret it. Every last one.
I'm distracted by Corlis's non-stop chatter with her ally from Nine, who conveniently gets to stand right in front of her.
Right now their talking about someone else in their alliance, and I think I recognize the name to be that of the girl from Three.
"You can't seriously like her Corlis? Can't you see how fake she is?"
Corlis doesn't respond other than to laugh slightly, and continue to look more than a little uncomfortable. Maybe I should step in? I mean there's obvious cracks here, I could totally tear that alliance apart.
But apart of me feels bad for Corlis, even if she is from my disgusting District. She's caught up in an obvious feud between two of her allies - I had heard her talking about it with the escort a few nights ago.
Corlis isn't meant for this. The Games I mean. She hasn't got a merciless bone in her body, and I seriously doubt she could kill a fly. She's hopeless, and she can't even enjoy her last few days alive because of the bickering between two of her allies.
I remind myself that I don't care, and tune out the conversation. Who cares how Corlis spends her last few days, as long as they are her last. Everyone in this room is on their last few days, except me of course.
I notice Corlis take a step forward, and look to the front of the line to see the dark-haired girl from One has taken to the stage, which means the interviews are starting.
I'm nervous, but really I have no reason to be. I'm going to go out there and kill it.
I'm going to make District Ten regret every hateful work they ever said about Cara, just like I promised her when I said goodbye.
I won't let you down Cara. Your big brother is coming home.
Zaria Tullius, 18, District One
Acereader55
I hate this.
Deep breaths Zaria, deep breaths. Keep your emotions in check. Don't let your emotions get the better of you.
I have to keep repeating this mantra to myself over and over again to keep myself from lashing out at someone that talks to me. I loathe the interviews, and always have even watching them on the television at home or at the training center. I just feel like they're so useless. So unimportant. Why should we have to talk about ourselves and our skills to the people of Panem when we can just show them off in the arena? It's idiotic, and quite frankly, annoying.
One of the stage directors walks over next to me and pats me on the shoulder lightly. I turn around quickly, my midnight black ponytail swaying behind me like a raven in the night.
"The interviews are about to start," the stage director says. No shit. "You're up first Zaria. Good luck." He smiles and turns around and walks in the opposite direction of the stage. Two more people come up on either side of me and command me to move forwards, and I do as asked. I turn around and Raleigh waves at me before I disappear behind curtains leading me down a hallway.
The curtains are of a velvet texture, much like some of the items in my luxurious home back at home in District One. Oh, how I miss the feeling of being home. Actually, no, I don't. At least this is some what entertaining compared to my life back home.
The hallway stops and I reach the edge of the curtains, and they begin to fade away into the back as they make way for what I presume to be the stage. A stage director, similar to the one that first directed me, puts his hand on the small of my back and whispers into a microphone attached to a headset.
"You're on in 3…2…1…" He pushes me slightly and I walk on out onto the stage, confidently moving my body with every step that I take. I make sure to give a slight nod to the crowd as I pass by, making sure never to wave or break the delicate smirk that is plastered onto my face. Leave the smiling to Raleigh, let me be the mysterious girl that people want to know more of.
"Welcome, Zaria Tullius of District One!" The interviewer stands up to greet me, taking my hand in his much larger one and gives it a gentle kiss, garnishing a curtsey from me as he does so. "So lovely to finally meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you."
The stage lights are blindingly bright, but I manage to force myself not to squint as I turn to face the crowd and widen my smirk, gaining a few whistles from the male members of the audience. I make sure to brush my mini-skirt off and cross my legs like my mentor told me to, showing off the tan nature of my long, thin legs.
"That skirt is absolutely gorgeous," the interviewer gushes. "I'm sure a beautiful girl such as yourself wouldn't mind getting up and spinning around for the audience to see?"
The audience cheers very loudly and I put my hand on my chin, pretending to ponder about my answer for the question, despite knowing what I must do.
"I don't mind at all." I get up from my seat carefully and walk farther out onto the stage and begin to twirl around. My midnight black skirt twirls around with me and as I twirl, it begins to open up slightly, revealing golden streaks running through it. Huh, I guess my stylist was more crafty than I thought she was.
"Wonderful, wonderful! Absolutely stunning!" The interviewer helps me back to my sit and I graciously sit back down, crossing my legs yet again. "Now Zaria, a little birdy tells me that you're in an alliance with all of your district partners. Is that true?"
"It is absolutely true," I say with a smile. "We decided staying loyal to the District was the best thing to do, and I am positive they are more then capable allies, Deidre too."
"Dierdre as in the District Four girl, whom also joined up with you?"
"Yes. She joined with us, which was the smarter choice for her game. She joined with the right alliance. The best alliance." I pause, allowing for the audience to grip onto every word I say and wait in anticipation for my next word. "The winning alliance."
"Such confident words coming from a charming and mysterious young lady such as yourself!" I laugh a little bit at the compliment, having heard it many times before. "Where does a young woman such as yourself get that much confidence? Perhaps from your home?"
I knew talk about my home would spring up eventually, so I was prepared to have to answer some questions about my home life. I'm just grateful it was brought up at the tail end of the interview, so I don't have to spend that long talking about the personal crap.
"My home was a rather mundane place, if I'm being honest." This gathers some gasps from the audience as I'm sure they weren't expecting that coming from the pristine girl from District One. "My mother and father were nice and polite, hard-working and good at what they do. Nothing more than that, and nothing less. I am the way I am because of my dedication to the Hunger Games and my dedication to the Capitol. I am who I am because the Capitol and the Hunger Games shaped me to be this person, and I couldn't be any happier than to stand before you today as the person I am."
The audience claps wildly after that statement and I breathe a sigh of relief as the cheers grow even louder once the buzzer beeps, signaling the ending of my interview. The interviewer once again grabs my hand and I bow with him, and then walk off stage.
As I walk through the curtained hallway once again, I pass by Raleigh who must be up next.
"Good job Zaria," she says. "I knew you could do it." With a wink and a flip of her hair she walks out of sight, and I'm left alone once again in the hallway of curtains.
I may not be as flirty as Raleigh, as strong as Jasper, or as crude as Arnette, but I am a contender. I am silent but deadly. I maybe the underdog, but nobody should count me out.
Sometimes the dark horse does win.
Dierdre Lewell, 18, District Four
District11-Olive
I clutch onto my mentor's forearm. He was permitted to wait with me after I expressed worries that I might not be able to stand myself up to wait in line. I woke up this morning with the most terrible headache that I have ever had in my life, but it wasn't until lunch time that I knew I was really sick. Right now I am teetering on the edge between nerves and sickness, and I am still not quite sure which one is making me want to vomit.
"You're up next," he whispers and I nod. Ebba and Atlas have already done their interviews are left to go back upstairs. I am happy about that. Their stares, which were a mixture of pity and disgust, only have proved to cement their ideas about me. I am already the joke of the Career Pack, this just makes it easier for them to say why.
The voice from onstage cuts through my head like a dagger, but I begin the steps up to the stage regardless. "May I present to you our next guest, Miss Dierdre Lewell of District Four!"
As soon as I am able to see the lights from the audience I know that they can see me. I do my best to muster up a smile and wave at them, but even that slight movement when combined with walking makes my head pound and my stomach churn.
I sit down in the nearest chair and relief floods me. It takes everything in me to keep the smile on my face and stop from squinting at the bright lights that assault my eyes. I lean back in the seat as far as I dare, knowing that the angle will be unflattering but deciding that it is worth it to lessen the pressure on my stomach.
"Dierdre," The Interviewer says. Why can't I remember his name? "What a lovely name for such a lovely girl."
"Thank you," I say, my voice cracking on the second word. I cough in an attempt to cover it but I'm sure that the microphone picked it up anyways. "You can thank my stylist for the dress, it would make anyone look beautiful."
"Even me?" He gasps, pausing to laugh at his own stupid joke. "But in all seriousness, you pull it off almost as well as I would."
"I am honoured to even be compared to you." I know I am laying it on thick, but I remember seeing him in previous years. He can get nasty if you don't play him right. I don't think I can handle anything more than playful banter right now.
"Oh you," he laughs, nudging me gently. "So let's get down to business shall we?"
"Of course," I nod politely.
"How do you find the other members of your alliance? If rumours prove to be true than I've heard you have teamed up with the four District One tributes."
This is the last thing I want to talk about. "They are very nice people, I am happy to be with them."
"Do you find yourself at all on the, shall I say, outside," he pries. "I don't mean to offend you, but those tributes look fierce and you just look so sweet."
My stomach begins to hurt again, from nerves maybe or from the flu that I assume I am getting. Suddenly I get the feeling that something isn't quite..right. I do my best to swallow the feeling and answer the question, I have waited too long already.
"Not at all," I say, my eyes going to the floor. "I think-"
That is as far as I get before I come to the realization that I need to get off of this stage right now or I am going to throw up on it. My hands are shaking and my brain feels like it is trying to escape out the front of my head. I have to get out of here. Right now.
"I-I'm sorry," I stutter, holding one hand to my mouth and the other arm curling around my stomach. I stand and run as fast as I can, getting away from the lights a second later and stumbling down the stairs.
My mentor catches me before I fall to the ground, by now I am in tears. I can feel the other tributes staring at me but I don't even care. I push myself out of his grasp and lean myself over a nearby garbage can, falling to the floor under it a second later with more tears running down my cheeks.
"Dierdre, come on," I can hear the harshness in his voice as he pulls me to my feet. He leads me past the other tributes and past the elevator bank. I am about to ask where we are going before he tells me first. "I needed to get you away from the other tributes before I called for a medic. I don't need them seeing any more of this, you're supposed to be a Career what the hell was that?"
"I told you I didn't want to do it," I hiss and it's true. After spending hours with my Prep Team trying on outfits and getting my hair pulled I had told him that I was too sick to do it. He told me to get over it.
"There won't be any getting through this, Die," he says, the frustration clear in his voice. "I've tried so hard for you, but there's nothing else I can do. You go into the arena tomorrow and I can bet you that the other Careers have already heard about your meltdown. You were never doing that well in the rankings, but now? I don't even know what to tell you."
Matilda Prescott, 18, District Nine
Call Me Fin
To be honest, I don't pay much attention to the other interviews as they pass by. I don't care enough about these people to pay attention. I don't much care for anything anymore, other than Maelle and her crazy attitude.
I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.
She's fake, and a bitch, and I can't stand anything about her. She talks all nice and sweet, but I know very well as soon as that gong sounds I'm her number one target. And then she'll have Corlis and Savvy all to herself, the sneaky little bitch.
I know that the District Eight male is on right now - the little one who will die in the bloodbath - but he's not making that big of a splash, so I tune out his interview as I've done with most of the others.
It's best not to get attached. It'll make it easier when the time comes for me to kill.
That's right, I've decided I'll kill. Better yet, I've decided I'll win. I'm not going to lose, because it's just not who I am. I am a winner, and these stupid Games are no fucking different.
The District Eight boy finished his interview, and hurries off stage, quickly disappearing behind the group of us still waiting to go out on stage.
The interviewer stands up again, flattening out his suit before making a joke to the crowd. Something about these starting to drag on, before he begins to welcome me onto the stage.
"Alright folks, it's time for us to meet our first single tribute District of the night! Matilda, come on out!"
I quickly glance in the mirror, checking to make sure everything is perfect. I notice my curled blonde hair is slightly out of place, and quickly put it back into place. Next, I see that my simple white dress is wrinkled just a tad, and spend several moments trying to flatten it out.
By the time I remember that I'm supposed to be going out on the stage, the interviewer whose name has escaped me, is calling out my name again.
"Hello!" I say as I hurry out on stage, attempting to conceal how flustered I feel. I sit before he does, and he stands there awkwardly, as if I had missed something.
"In a rush?" he jokes as he takes his seat. I don't bother answering, because the answer is obvious. Of course I am, I only have a few moments to make myself liked, and wasting it with petty questions is not in the game plan.
I smile over at him, and he finally gets the memo. "So Matilda, how are you finding the Capitol?"
What a stupid question. It's nice of course, but even if it wasn't I wouldn't dare say that in front of the people who live here, who coincidently are the same people I'm trying to make like me.
"It's fine, now, I think I can win because not only do I have a strong alliance behind me, but I have the drive and determination to show you people just how strong I can be, and how much I deserve to win."
He laughs again, and so does the audience, but I'm not sure why. I'm just trying to get this thing going.
"That's nice dear, but how about your family?"
I roll my eyes. Does this idiot not now how to do a proper interview?
"I like my allies, but there is definitely some tension between us." I say, attempting to capture the audiences attention.
"We heard yes, do you and Maelle not get along?" Perfect! A question I can work with!
"She's a nice girl, but we butt heads sometimes sure. We don't always agree on everything, and she hasn't quite accepted the fact that I'm the leader of our little group."
"That's nice Matilda, but what about you? Who is Matilda Prescott?"
Back to these idiotic questions again I see.
"Someone who is certainly willing to do anything in her power to get home." I sigh with finality. It's true, I'm going home, and Maelle can suck it if she thinks any differently.
"I like that," the man says, and the audience roars in approval. I can't help but smile out at the crowd. They like me, they really do, probably more than the like Maelle, which means I have accomplished my goal of the evening.
"Any last words?"
"No, because whatever I say won't be my last words, because I can guarantee you I will be sitting in this chair again come a few weeks."
I stand up, smiling a the crowd once more before walking off stage without another word. Corlis smiles at me as I pass her, ready to go and tackle her interview. But I don't stop to chat, because her name is being called before I can even fully make it off stage. Her face suddenly drops, and I see the panic in her eyes, but I'm sure she'll do great. Corlis is adorable. She's one of those people you have to like because she's just so awkwardly cute.
I think it went well for me though. The audience really seemed to like me, which will help me defeat Maelle in the long run. The more support for me equals less support for her, which can never hurt.
When I was reaped, I never thought I would act like this. I've never had such strong feelings for someone as I do Maelle, but I've always been a bit obsessive.
And if there's one thing I know about myself, it's that I won't stop until I eliminate Maelle. She's taken over my life, and I certainly cannot have that.
Maelle will die, even if it's the last thing I do.
Zeno King, 17, District Three
District11-Olive
No matter how much I did it in school, I still loathe presentations. This seemed to be a hundred times worse than anything I have done in the past, though, because this time it's not just a failing grade looming over me. Even though it's over and there is nothing I can do to fix whatever I probably did wrong tonight, I can't put the thoughts to rest. Tonight was my last chance to prove myself, and more than anything I fear that once again I was unable to do it.
The strangest things is that even though she is all the way back in District Three, I can still hear my mother's voice echoing in my head. She would have certainly had something to say about my time on stage. It would be the biggest surprise of my life is she was finally happy with something I did.
As I begin to head up to our suite, my mentor the only one I have to share my elevator car with, I try but fail to stop thinking about her. Just like I have always been unable to do, I just can't get her harsh voice out of my head. The insults when I couldn't do something and the snarky comments even when I did something exactly as I was supposed to. Nothing made her happy and nothing made the horrible words stop.
And yet I cannot say that I do not miss her.
As much as she made every moment I was at home difficult, I can't ignore the fact that she was trying to teach me things through them. When I was younger I didn't understand. My friends' mothers would coddle them and make them feel like everything they did was simply perfect. I even resented her for a while.
I'm older now, though. I can see the effects of my childhood and how she taught me, but I cannot argue that they are all bad. I have thick-skin and I know how to fight for what I want. I'm patient. I guess that was bound to happen. When you spend a good chunk of your life wanting only one thing and you are unable to get it you would either end up giving up or keep going for it. Thankfully I think I am the latter.
"You're awfully quiet, Zeno."
"Just tired," I shrug. As soon as I say it I realize how true the statement is, a yawn enveloping me. I lean back against the wall of the car and close my eyes for a moment. The ding that tells me we have arrived on our floor wakes me a few seconds later.
As soon as we are back in the suite, I can already see Savvy sitting at the table alone. I am about to ask where everyone is when I turn back around and see that my mentor is gone. I open my mouth to say something, my thumb pointing towards the empty air behind me, when Savvy beats me to it.
"They have to wait for Maelle and Toby."
"Oh," I say. It makes sense. Savvy and I had the first two interviews for District Three and Toby and Maelle are still downstairs either waiting in line or already on stage. Maelle is probably going to be finishing up in the next few minutes, as a matter of fact.
Not particularly wanting to be alone for the night, at least not just yet, I decide to sit down with Savvy. There is a tray of mugs and as soon as I pull one of them and place it in front of me an Avox appears in front of me and pours a green-clear liquid up to the rim. I thank him quietly and bring the drink up to smell it. It has a bitter smell and I place it back down in front of me.
"They said it's tea," she says quietly.
I study the drink for another moment. The clear-coloured part looks sort of like tea, I guess, but every tea I've ever had has had sprigs of herbs and leaves in it. "This doesn't look like any tea I've ever had?"
She laughs lightly. "I've never had tea. That's just what she ordered me before she went back downstairs. She said it would be good for the nerves."
"You're nervous?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her. If I were to have guessed I wouldn't have said she was nervous at all. She looks calm, serene even, just sitting here by herself sipping on a hot drink.
"Of course, aren't you?"
I begin to think up something witty to say, but when I look at her face she looks genuinely curious. I close off the words before they even begin to leave my lips. I haven't really thought about how I am feeling about this whole thing. All of my night time thoughts have been consumed by what my mother would think of me.
After a moment I look down at my hands. The fact that they are shaking like a leaf in a windstorm gives me all the answer I need. "I'm very nervous."
She smiles down into her tea. "I think everyone is nervous, so I wouldn't have believed you if you said you weren't."
"Everyone?" I raise an eyebrow when she says that. "I don't think the Career tributes are nervous. They're probably on the edge of their seats with excitement."
"I think you overestimate them," she shrugs. Standing from her chair and leaving the empty mug in front of her. "People are going to be dead tomorrow, and no one knows who that is going to be. Well not for sure at least. The Careers could be a few of those, even if it's less likely it could still happen."
Her words hit me in a strange way. I never thought of the Career tributes as even being capable of fear or nervousness. When Savvy walks away I decide to let her go. It's going to be a long night for all of us and if she wants to spend it alone then so be it. Personally I don't think I'm brave enough to be alone tonight.
Maelle Thurske, 18, District Three
Acereader55
I tried.
That's the only thought I can keep replaying over and over again in my head. I tried my best to succeed in training. I tried my best to form a strong alliance that I could work with. I tried my best in my interview, even though I wasn't smooth like some other people. But at least I tried. I did the best that I could do, and that's all I can really ask of myself anymore.
I get up from the comfortable king sized bed and start to pace back and forth throughout my room. I usually am not this nervous, but considering the Games start tomorrow and I could be dead in just over twelve hours, I think it's understandable that I'm quite nervous.
I don't trust my alliance as it stands, there's double the amount of Careers there are in a usual Games, and on top of that, there are plenty more capable tributes out there than I am. How in the hell am I supposed to come out the Victor?
I curl back up at the foot of my bed and draw my knees up against my face and let the sobs come racking out of body. I can't help but cry the nerves away, and my body shakes with every sob that I let out. I don't know how else to get my nerves out, and crying seems like the only viable option at this point, so I let myself cry. And cry some more. And continue crying until someone opens the door to my bedroom.
I notice who it is immediately without them having to say anything.
Savvy walks over right to my side and sits down next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and allowing me to finish sobbing into her arm. I know it seems odd that someone younger than me is comforting me, but in this moment I don't care. I need to release everything that has been bottling up inside me.
"It'll be okay Maelle, don't worry," she whispers into my ear. "One way or another it'll all be okay. For you, for me, for Corlis and Matilda, for Zeno and Toby, one way or another it'll all turn out okay for all of us."
"That's why I'm upset Savvy," I say through the tears. "Because you know as well as I do that it won't be okay. It'll never be okay again. Only one of the thirty of us can win, and the likelihood that it'll be someone we're close to is so small."
"Then we'll all be together again in the afterlife," Savvy says. "One way or another Maelle, we'll end up together again. Nothing will ever tear people apart, truly. It'll be okay."
I continue sobbing for several more minutes before I finally can't cry any longer. The tears stop flowing down my face and soon, Savvy and I are sitting up on my bed talking about our lives back in District Three. I come close to crying again as I talk about my family and hear about hers, but I keep my composure as she talks about some of her friends.
"And one time, he-"
"Savvy, can I tell you something, honestly?"
"Of course Maelle, you shouldn't even have to ask that question."
"Okay, here goes. I don't trust Matilda. And before you throw it away listen. I know you think she's innocent and a good ally and a good person, but she isn't. She's been trying to get me to be on the outs of the alliance since we invited her into it, and she only does her little things when you or Corlis aren't looking. Please don't hate me for going against one of our allies."
"Maelle. I know."
"What?"
"I know."
"You've known all this time and haven't agreed with me when I hinted to it before?" Anger begins to boil up inside me. Why hadn't she told me that she believed me sooner so I didn't feel like a horrible person for thinking all of this?
"No, I didn't know all this time Maelle. I honestly didn't think anything was wrong during training. But when she made faces and gestures at you today on the interviews line when she thought nobody was looking, yeah I started to realize what you were saying was true."
Before I can do anything else, I tackle Savvy in a huge embrace as we fall onto the bed, giggling like little school girls.
"I'm glad I have you as my true ally Savvy, I don't know what I'd do without you."
She giggles and so do I and we hug one more time, and when we pull away I can see Savvy's mind working.
"What are you thinking?" I ask.
"Well, since she's fooled me for this long, I was thinking it's only fair to do the same thing to her." She smirks and so do I, knowing where this talk is going.
"So what are you suggesting?"
"Well, here's what I had in mind…"
Song: The A Team by Ed Sheeran.
A/N: Well we are finally getting up to updating after a bit of playing tag with POVs over the past few days. From what I heard from Fin, this has turned out to be a pretty fabulous chapter and we're pretty excited to hear what you guys think too.
There really isn't much to say here, other than to mention the fact that next chapter will be our last Capitol chapter. That means, yes after all this time, we are finally going to get to the arena. We have plenty of surprises that we're getting excited about writing.
Pretty much it, review if you have the time to. I'll put down a couple of questions to get the thoughts/comments flowing. Yeah that sounds like a good plan.
What did you think of these tributes the second time around?
Might as well ask it, but who do you see killing in the Bloodbath? Who do you see maybe dying?
That's it I think? Hope so. I am no longer used to making these for ID. I'm making Fin/Ace do it next time this was pretty awful. Alight bye until next time.