Author's Note: I decided to upload this now since my college has given us a two-day holiday from our classes. Another reason why college is much more awesome than high school. I wanted this published ASAP because my schedule can get very hectic once school starts back up. This is the first part of Day 1 in the Arena. I'm already working on the second part. Enjoy!
Chapter 11: Little Impression
I can't breathe.
The air. The air. It's too thick, too smoky.
Why is it so hard to breathe?
My coughs match the rest of my opponents' as we take in our surroundings, the place we're forced to call Home.
For some, Home will last for days. For others, hours, minutes, and for the very unlucky, seconds. Or are they the lucky ones? They get to escape the insanity that awaits. They won't become unrecognizable to their loved ones. No blood will be on their hands. They're die as the same person they came into the Arena as.
Everything here is gray. Everything.
The sky is a featureless gray. The ground is a solid, metal gray. The 13 buildings that encircle us are unforgiving gray mass of steel. Concrete numbers, going from 1-12, top each building except one, which lies gated and bigger than the other twelve.
Where are the trees? The water? Food? Sunlight? The Gamemakers are heartless, but they aren't stupid. We'll die of starvation and dehydration in here. In Esteban's Games five years back, that's what happened to most of the tributes. It got horrible reviews, so why would they do the same thing again.
Are we inside a building? No, looking up again I see rays of light struggling to pierce through the blocks of gray. Even the Careers look around suspiciously, unsure of what to think of this place.
Then we see them.
Explosions.
From afar, bombs are dropped every few seconds with no plausible explanation as to where they're coming from. So that's why the air is so thick. Each bomb comes closer and closer, yet never close enough to cause any harm. They encircle the buildings, and encircle us. We shake and wobble on our plates, one tribute yelping as he almost lands on the detonated mines perfectly hidden in the slab of metal beneath us.
We're trapped. We're absolutely trapped.
I've been given a horrible view of the Cornucopia, but from what I can see, the only things that lie inside are crates. Big, bulky, wooden crates. The maniacal smile on my face causes the girl beside me to whimper.
This is great, no, brilliant. Usually, the Cornucopia is chock-full of weapons and supplies, but every so often, the Gamemakers like to pull a wild card like they did this year. You devious little bastards, going as far as to toy with your most loyal playthings.
I'm impressed, Gamemakers. Well done.
I take in the 23 children that circle the enormous golden horn, the 23 children that must die for me to return home. The more I try to follow Esteban's advice, the more I remember the small details about each and every one of them.
I can't look at these people as animals when I know so much about them, when we all have something in common. Puppets. Puppets in a play. The wolf pack too. They smile and snicker at us when they'll be disposed of too, once the puppetmasters find new toys to play with.
Radiance is actually poor, at least by District One standards. She volunteered to save her parents and herself from a poverty-stricken life of bottling perfumes for the Capitol. Clearly are parents are as stupid as she is for willingly letting their daughter go into a death match. Valor is even stupider. The arrogant blond comes from a long line of failed tributes. He actually thinks he will restore honor back to his family name by doing the exact same thing that's shamed it in the first. "Sixth time's the charm," I remember him saying in his interview while the insanely annoying Caesar Flickerman wished him well.
Domitia, however, comes from a successful line of Victors. In her interview, she casually mentioned how both her mother, uncle, and grandfather all won their Games. When Caesar asked the giant what her family's parting words were, she said without the slightest hint of sadness: "Don't embarrass us." Orazio played the usual ruthless District Two role while getting a few laughs out of the audience with his orphanage story.
Wanda's asthma must be acting up again, because she's now slumped over on her knees gasping for air. Her supposed district partner Dmitiri is too busy staring at Virgo to notice his fellow Three who's near death before the gong even rings.
Creek apparently worked on the boat that brought crabs to Penelope's shop back in Four. Both made a point to let the audience know that that won't stop them from killing one another when the time comes. The tanned pair is eager to bring back the title of Victor, since District Four is the laughingstock of the Career Alliance, having the least amount of Victors. I add them to the growing list of tributes to beware.
Life expectancy is so low in Five that at the age of sixteen, Nace has a newborn son and Morgana volunteered to escape an arranged marriage to a man twice her age. Nace has more of a reason to live than all of us. He won't hold back, that is if he can make it out of the bloodbath.
Ramona's the youngest tribute here. The quiet girl told Caesar she wouldn't cry, but now she's the only one making no effort to hide her tears and worse, the front of her tights are wet with urine. I can't look at her any longer. Feeling sorry for any tribute will make me soft. That won't happen.
There's apparently bad blood between the Seven pair. Valentino and Cecily dated a few years ago, and even now, they both glare at each other from across the plates. Neither will make it back to the lumber district with their stupidity.
The District Eight boy made so little of an impression throughout training that I can't remember his name. All I do remember is him having a worried look in his eyes whenever he looked at Chiffon like he's doing right now.
Virgo's interview was a complete disaster. The plain redhead tried flirting with the audience when even the shallow Capitolites didn't buy her act. The Cornucopia blocks my smirk while I watch with morbid fascination as her eyes shift all around in desperation, completely ignoring her boy-toy from Three. And Isaiah is an absolute lunatic. His drawn-out story of how he is a part of a religious cult in Nine where dying in the Hunger Games was a way to be "released" got him booed off the stage. District Nine will not have a Victor this year.
Sofia, Sofia, Sofia. My district partner. Her head never stops moving, jerking back from a building behind her to the Cornucopia and back to the building. She makes me dizzy by just watching her. I'm not sure what I feel about Senorita Sofia, and what to do with her. Could I kill her when the time comes? Maybe. Well, probably not. But I have no choice.
Fifi's little buddy from training, Koring, stands to my left, eyeing the same building as me. That's mine, boy. Just because it has '11' marked on it doesn't give you ownership of it. Tottie looks across my shoulder as well. Guess I'll have to race to make it first.
Lavender looks absolutely terrified, being sandwiched between Orazio and Valor. You better run as fast as you did during training, Blondie. Pale-skinned Clay looks far less capable, already having a defeated, glazed look in his eyes. I would too if I came from the poorest district in Panem.
Then my eyes fall on Eli and Chiffon, who have been placed next to each other. My feeling of pure dread is a complete contrast to the look of pure relief they display.
I didn't ally with them. I didn't ally with them! Will they kill me? No, they can't. Eli doesn't have the heart to do it. They spent so much time with me during training. But they know all of my weaknesses. Chiffon is amazing with knives. She wouldn't even flinch as she sliced my chest open, or slit my throat.
No, I must follow Esteban's plan. What if he's wrong? Each Games is different. One strategy for one could mean death in the other. Few tributes have won without some form of an alliance.
What do I do? What do I do?
The gong decides for me.
I turn around and I run. Faster than I thought was possible. Faster than I've ever ran in my life. I feel like thanking Isaiah's imaginary friend in the sky for giving me the strength the move this fast.
Next up will be part 2 of Day 1. Loving it so far?