Authors note:
I re-read this chapter and realized it was full of mistakes so it is being re-uploaded as the fixed version. Sorry about that!
Weiss Forge 18, District 1.
I leave the Justice Building with my face looking hard and immaculate. There were no tears at my goodbyes. My mother straitened the necklace she made me, I joked that she was going to become overwhelmed with orders after the reaping. My father took me aside, giving me last minute advice.
My little sister squealed in excitement about what I was going to do. A slight sadness that she wouldn't be seeing me for a while but total confidence in my ability to win I ran across the room tossing her hair as her laughter light up the old and dreary building. We are all in high hopes. We have the most recent Victor.
My father is not a mentor this year so is not required to come to the Capitol with us. "Don't get distracted. Focus on your goals," he tells me with a steady voice and proudness in his eyes. I won't let him down. There will be a second Victor in the family soon.
Blake was the final one to say goodbye. All traces of earlier jealousy gone he came in with his face light up and excited for me. No words of advice we're given, no sappy goodbyes said, instead we joked around until he had to go. Then a tight goodbye hug was paired on a kiss on the cheek, a departing gift from him.
Now, I am marched across the square. A few people have waited outside and cheer for me as I smile at the citizens of my District. I wave back and feel euphoric with the praise they give me. One cheeky boy even throws a rose at me, I catch it and wink back at him. Feeling like the Capitol is with me already I whoop at those in the square and they roar back. The sound of their cheering feels like raw power coursing through my veins.
I see my fellow Tribute, Ace come out from the Justice Building a little behind me and I throw a wink over my shoulder. He doesn't show that he has noticed the gesture. Keeping his eyes locked with a beautiful woman about my age. I know they share something. My charms will not work on Ace.
I stay smiling at my District, knowing that the cameras will lap it up just as much as they will lap up Ace's in love angle. He will make a strong alley. I stay smiling until we reach the train station, pausing for cameras to take their final pictures I sense Ace to look ahead at them. Just like me.
Talia Lancaster, 15, District 3.
The flashing lights of the cameras make me uncomfortable and have to keep my eyes partially shut. They glare and flash, creating spots in my vision. My cheeks are not teary, instead, I look detached. That's what I'm trying to do. Detach from this reality. I like the one I made up in my head better. Where I walked away from the reaping without my name being called. Where my honorary brother didn't volunteer.
I look at him from the corner of my eyes, his eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks puffy. I did not expect that from him. I wonder who came to say goodbye to him that caused that reaction. He has no biological family. Only friends and my family. But he stands proud, looking directly into the camera glasses he puffs out his chest and tries to make his body seem more powerful than it is. And it works. Lean muscles can be seen.
Eventually, the train doors open and I rush into them. Placing one foot in front of the other I try not to stumble with the large black spots that seem to of taken over my vision due to the cameras. I collapse into the first chair I see and place my head in my hands. This is real. I'm going into the games. I feel someone place their hand around my back and melt into it, releasing it must be Callum.
"Well, that was exciting!" Our mentors high Capitol voice rings around the carriage.
"Yes, two new kids going into the arena is always exciting," a voice I don't know is dipped in sarcasm and I look up to see my mentor. Mimi Seaiqa. She won her Games at 18, like most of the Tributes in District 3 she used her intelligence to win. Neither me of Callum possess that level of intelligence.
Hot anger runs through my veins as I think of Callum volunteering and his soothing hand on my back infuriates me. I jump up from the chair, turning on him. "Why the hell did you volunteer?" My voice is sharp and rings loud in the carriage. I don't care. He shouldn't be here.
He looks at me with sympathy in his eyes, not trying to stand he stays sitting. "To get you home," he says simply. My heart sinks in the confirmation of something I already knew and I don't know weather to be grateful or impossibly angry at this boy.
"I don't want you to die for me. I never asked for this!" I yell at him, angry tears forming a the corner of the eyes and a bubble of laughter comes out of my lips. "You could be safe!" I fall to my knees and grab the shirt he is wearing. "You could be safe."
Fears fall from his eyes too as wraps me in a hug. I start to fight him off before the tears become too much and my body becomes limp. "I'm here to keep you safe. To get you back home."
Carolyn Aquana, 17, District 4.
We sit across from our mentors in a sitting room more luxurious than anything I have seen before. But I've never been one to truly appreciate luxury. I prefer hard earned and hard warn. I like to see that something has got its use out of it. This room looks brand new. Like it's never been used before.
Avoxes line the sides of the room, dressed all in black they are ready to cater to our every need. I don't feel any sympathy for them. They deserve their punishment. They should count themselves lucky that they did not hang from a noose like the boy I caught stealing my fathers pearls. I'm sure some of them are here for stealing from the Capitol. I think hanging is a better punishment.
Our mentors are Marvolo O'dair and Alice Dunbar. They won their games with a years gap between them. Winners of the 173rd and 171st games. Both won at 16. Marvolo is extremely handsome, with tanned skin and bronze hair his eyes are sea green. As stunning as I have ever seen. Alice has the typical blonde hair of the District and is attractive in her own right, with emerald green eyes. It was their son who was called out at the Reaping.
I guess that means they owe Blake. But someone would of volunteered no matter what. With the rate that the O'dair's volunteer there must be something to it. But I will never be able to ask. That is a private family matter. Just like my fathers black and blue fists.
We settle into the couches to watch the reapings. I sit on the floor, the carpet is soft enough and I can feel the train moving underneath me. It creates a sensation like being on a boat back home. It helps to calm me. And I don't want to be near Blake. Not with his reputation and the way he sprawls out on the couch like he doesn't have a care in the world. He's over confident and cocky. That will get him killed.
He looks down at me, smiling something I'm sure he thinks is seductive. I know he has a girlfriend that he claims to love. But you wouldn't know it from the way he eyes up anything vaguely female. I even saw him staring at some of the Avoxes. Something tells me he is not used to anyone saying no.
When the television bursts to life we immediately focus. I grab a small notepad that I had an Avox bring me earlier. But we all watch in shock as an execution takes place. "Will the alliance still be on?" The words are from my lips before I can comprehend what I am saying. If the girl from their District has been injured beyond repair she will be no use for the alliance. Both the meteors look shocked and Marvolo abruptly gets up.
"Pause it," he yells over his shoulder to Alice and she does what he says, chewing her lip. I notice it start to blood quickly, it must be an old injury.
"Has anything like this happened before?" I ask her, the shock still evident in my voice. The screen was paused just after the men were shot. They are all on the ground. But there is no blood yet. They could be mannequins.
"Never," she replies. Blake whistles long and slow, the sound irks me but I strangely relate to it. This has certainly got us off to a rocky start. After a few minutes of silence even the Avoxes are looking tense.
That is until Marvolo bursts back in, running a hand through his bronze hair he steps in front of the television addressing us. "The alliance is still on. The girl from Two is being treated by the Capitol. She is unconscious but stable. She will make a full recovery." I don't feel much at that. There is some relief knowing the alliance is stable. Yet a competitor down already would of been a plus.
"Now, let's watch the reapings," he says, sitting next to Alice again he rests his head on her shoulder. That is before the announcer, Drusus Lionella drops another surprise on us. The goodbyes will be televised. My mouth drops open. I look over to Blake and see a mixture of amusement and worry on his expression.
"Oh god," Alice whispers, judging by our expressions. Marvolo pauses the television again.
"Tell me now what you did," his voice is not angry exactly. But its not friendly either. His eyes lock with mine. It's not a big deal I tell myself. So why does it feel that much to me? I take a deep breath.
"I kissed a boy," I tell him honestly, my stomach dropping. Blake erupts into a booming laugh behind me. I scowl at him.
"You're fine," Alice tells me, throwing Blake another scowl she focuses on me. "Plenty of people kiss boys, I kiss this one the whole time," she issues to Marvolo and he laughs at her. Placing a kiss on her cheek. I nod. My stomach still throwing somersaults at the idea my private life is going to be plastered on all of Panem.
"Now, what did you do?" She asks Blake.
He looks at her with a beaming grin on his face.
"I made love with my girlfriend and her mother."
Alice's face drops.
"At different times, obviously."
Oliver Apollo, 17, District 5.
With Drusus's shock announcement and the shock of an execution I am tuned into the reaping. I sit next to my mentor, Joshua. The girl who got reaped with me sits with her mentor on the other coach. We haven't really talked since we were both reaped. Well she volunteered. Then turned up for the cameras with tears streaming down her cheeks. Then again, so did I.
We watch as the two volunteers from One are chosen. The male Tribute looks huge, and deadly. But something about him doesn't seem pampered. Just determined. The female from the District however does look pampered, a look at her last name shows that her father is a Victor. I snort. I hope he isn't mentoring her.
It turns out that the goodbyes are going to be posted in a different cut tomorrow and I can practically taste the disappointment from the Capitol about it. But they will be fresh in their minds for the Chariot rides.
We bring all our attention to District Two's reaping. Insanely curious about the female Tribute who was attacked. She catches my attention. But for a different reason entirely. She is beautiful, more beautiful than anyone I have ever seen before. Smudged makeup almost looks like warpaint on her and her dress hugs her body in all the right ways. Her eyes have a distant, far away look and they are stunning. Ocean blue with an even darker blue rim around them.
The only other time I've seen anything like them was the woman from District Four who was caught by the Capitol. Her swirling teal and green was like nothing I have ever seen before. She had blonde hair. And a Trident tattoo. She is the reason I am here. I would rather be dead than an Avox. And in the business it could only lead one way.
I watch the girl elegantly get to the stage and wonder who would want to harm her. There must be a reason why. Then the male from their District is called and my blood runs cold. If I thought the boy from One was massive he is in a whole new league. A dark tattoo runs over his shoulder but you can barely see it, he is coated in blood.
It's hot, thick blood that seems fresh. I know this can't be a stunt they put on. He looks arrogant, the blood dripping as he makes his way up to the stage. Muscles bigger than anyone's that I have seen before rippling across his body. Joshua lets out a low whistle and I make eye contact with my District partner, my own fear is mirrored in her eyes.
"You'll have to watch out for the careers," Joshua states needlessly and I swallow a hard lump in my throat. It suddenly got real. And hit me like a truck. I am going to be pitted up against these people inside of the arena. I better learn fast.
Jerry Kapper, 15, District 6.
I never thought I would ever experience the luxury that I now feel around me. The beautiful train. The feel of its movement on the tracks. Even the smells of fresh hot food cooking and the way that the smells wrap around my head, enticing me to eat.
I sit in a plush armchair, a blanket softer than anything I have felt before wrapped around my body and a drink that is hot and tasted ricker than anything I've ever had before. A fluffy cream is on top of it, sprinkled with chocolate and it has these things they call marshmallows inside of it that taste like pure goodness. You would not be able to wipe the smile off of my face when drinking it.
That is until I see the competition.
My smile is wiped off after we are through all of the Careers and suddenly my drink tastes just too sweet. I can sense that my partner keeps looking across at me but I am afraid to meet her gaze. Intimidated by the older women since I saw her in my brother's bed this morning.
I almost don't want to watch the rest.
A large boy from District 5 is called and I realise that the outliers are going to be different this year. My partner Esme is called and her beauty is almost unheard of from District 6. That and the wild look in her eyes that intimidates me. From District 7 there is also another large boy, he limps to the stage but looks tough. The boy from District 9 is pretty, and the girl looks like a fighter. The two from District 11 obviously know each other.
By the time it's over I look awkwardly at my feet. I know this can't be the end. But the other Tributes intimidate me more than I could ever admit. I need to start playing smart. While the women from my District is scary she looks like a fighter.
So, when our mentors tell us to go to bed I follow her out, her doorway is before mine so I stop her just as she enters it.
"Hey, I'm Jerry," I tell her, stretching my hand out the way I know my brother would want me to I look up to her tired face.
She looks me over, looking impossibly tired. "Esme," she tells me, holding out a hand she greets mine softly. I feel a blush light my cheeks and on impulse ask her something I have been dying to since the start of the reaping.
"So, are you my brother's girlfriend?" I ask slightly awkwardly, she looks confused at the question before recognition lights up her face. I look like my brother.
She stares back at me with a mixture of emotions on her face. "No, I'm not," she finally tells me and an awkward silence hangs in the space between our bodys. I nod. I expected that answer. It makes me feel less bad about what will have to happen.
"Goodnight," I tell her strongly, she returns the wish in a mumble as I stroll down to my room. I run my hands across the soft paneling that is on the walls and hum a quiet tune to myself. These games will be tough. But they are not the end.
Willow Ashes, 16, District 7.
A stony silence settles over us once the reapings have finished showing. We stare at the television, not quite believing what this year has lined up for us. It's a bad one. Even our mentors agree that the careers this year look more vicious than ever. They already have the Capitals attention.
I and Nirvana looked strong was we walked to the stage. He looked like a fighter, but his injuries will wear him down. I looked like I couldn't believe what is happening. He's wrapped up now, the Avox's brought some bandages and some sour smelling creme. He looks relaxed, chatting with one of our mentors, Ben.
It's clear they know each other, from Ben's shocked cry when Nirvana was reaped. I think that it's Nirvana's uncle that helps to train children incase they are reaped. Marc used to talk about him like he was some kind of legend.
Our mentors tell us to get to sleep and we walk separate ways to our rooms. Mine is before Nirvana's but I follow him down, he turns, raising his eyes at me. "Yes?" He asks me, his voice gravelly and hard. But something about it makes me intrigued to know more and I feel some butterflies gnaw lightly at my stomach.
I take a deep breath. "Would you be open to an alliance?" My breath comes out rushed and for a moment I don't think he understood what I said. But he pauses, looking me up and down.
"Can you do anything?" He asks, curiosity in his voice.
"I'm strong. We'll not as strong as you but I can hold my own. I'm fast. And I know how to use an ax." He looks thoughtful, gnawing on his bottom lip. Suddenly, his expression changes. He looks tired and in pain and like the thing that he needs the most is to sleep.
"If you don't slow me down we can ally. But I'm not waiting for you in the arena." He tries to make his voice sound hard but really it just comes out as tired. I nod at him, extending a hand out I offer him mine.
After a moment of deliberation, he takes it.
"Goodnight ally," I tell him.
"Goodnight."
With that, he walks into his room and I walk up the hall to mine. My mentor, Ewa appears in front of me. "Smart choice," she says before walking off to her room. I smile to myself, I am already playing the Game.
My room blows me away. A huge panel on one side shows the pristine forests just like at home and sniffing the air I can smell the scent of pine. In the middle of the room is the largest bed I have ever seen. I sit on the edge of it, peeling off my ill-suited reaping dress I let it get lost in the shaggy carpet of the floor.
The bed is softer than velvet and I run my hands over it before I maneuver my body to the top and under the covers. It feels softer than clouds under it and I close my eyes. A small sliver of hope lights me up.
I have an ally.
And a strong one at that.
Weft Loomis, 15, District 8.
I wake, naked, I stripped off the dirty garments from my District last night. My hands have scabbed over from when I skinned them yesterday morning spooking Weaver. It feels like it was so long ago now. That I woke up in my bed sneezing.
I get out of the soft bed I slept in, stretching out my limbs I feel no need for the tears from yesterday. I need to continue moving on. I walk into what I assume is the bathroom off of the side of my room. Its luxury makes my jaw drop. A pristine shower takes up a large portion of the room, and in the center lies a bathtub bigger than my bed at home.
I walk up to the shower and the doorway opens automatically for me. My eyebrows shoot up as a keypad comes down, showing symbols and different options. I pick some that look nice and end up having a strong spray hotter than I have ever felt before but better than anything I have experienced. Soup that smells sweet and sharp covers my body and I pick up a toothbrush that has appeared next to me. It automatically turns on and I only have to move it around my mouth it scrubs for me. A grin bigger than anything I could have imagined lights up my face at the extraordinary reality that is the Capitol.
When I finally get out of the shower my skin is old and wrinkly. A new sensation. Stepping on the bathmat fans come down and I am tried to warmth. I feel like the clothes that we hang up outside, when we take them in after an especially hot dau they are warm to the touch. So am I.
I strut out to the mentors, momentarily forgetting the danger that I am in for the luxury that I am experiencing. It is once in a lifetime. I walk out to find the mentors Burton and Lea already sitting across from each other on a large dark dining table. I collect food from a large buffet across from them.
I pile sweet smelling foot onto my plate potatoes that are in a kind of thick orange sauce, bread smothered with butter so much that it drips off the loaves, fried meat that smells better than anything I've ever smelled before. Thin bread with unknown sweetness inside and a large heaped mug of something they call hot chocolate which has a thick layer of cream on top. I sit next to my mentor before I dig in. He laughs at the gobsmacked expression on my face as I taste something better than I have ever had before.
"Where's Violet?" I mumble through my mouthful, it comes out barely audible but I see frowns crease the corners of the two mentors smiles.
"Coming, I hope," Lea says, displeasement in her voice as she nibbles on one of the pastries I nod at this. She looked very shocked at the reaping. I wonder what her goodbyes will show. They are being shown later today and I feel a twinge of excitement at the idea of seeing what the other Tributes have to show for themselves. They could make or break sponsorships.
I accept Lea's answer with a nod of my head and focus my attention back on the steaming pile of food in front of me. If I am to die in the arena at least I will die knowing that this was how I lived just before that. And I think I could live with that.
Cole Rockweld, 15, District 9.
I sit across from my mentors and fellow Tribute as we eat our breakfast in stoney silence. I've forgotten the name of the girl that was reaped with me. But she looks intimidating, with tattoos and piercings she looks like the kind of person not to be messed with.
I pick at my food, it's delicious, but just a couple of its mouthfuls and I am full and slightly queasy with the rocking of the train. I watch as the older people continue to eat. I rest my elbows on the table. I twirl the silver band on my finger, imaging Barrick here with me. He would be enjoying the food. I force myself to take another mouthful. Just for him.
"We need to decide something," Farro, our male mentor says, clearing his throat. He is older, his late 40's from what I can remember but he won his Games from force and being underestimated. Maybe I can fly under the radar like him.
"How much of your coaching would you like done together, and how much separately?" This time voice is that of our female mentor, Milo. My brow puzzles at this. I didn't think about how much I want the older girl to be in my alliance. Something tells me she wants to take these Games alone. And she mirrors my thoughts.
"I'd like to be completely separate, please," she says. This is not a surprise and I nod along. It's not like I can fight against it if she doesn't want it.
I am surprised when the train car suddenly going dark, automatic lights turn on in and we are light up in neon hues. The mentor's chuckle at the surprised expression on my face and even the girl smirks at me.
"I'm just going to ask now,"Farro's voice sounds like he almost doesn't want to know the answer. "Do we need to be ready for any damage control after footage of the goodbyes is released?" My heart sinks. I almost forgot about that. I twirl the silver band on my finger harder. And look at the girl, hoping that she will admit to something.
She clears her throat, blushing. "We didn't talk about much. He came up," she points at me and my eyebrows raise. "But apart from that, it was just innocent. I guess my big moment came at the reapings." She muses, and I recall another girl kissing her for the goodbyes.
I chuckle, for how taboo it is to be gay in Panem we certainly don't seem to mind. The mentors then look and I feel my cheeks turning bright pink in their gaze. "I...I...I kissed my fiancee," I tell them, and I feel their eyes looking at the ring on my finger.
"Barrick?" The girl asks me and I nod. Feeling my cheeks turn even hotter. I can imagine the judgment that will come from this. But I don't care.
The mentors have strained faces but take deep breaths. "It could be worse, the Capitol has become more open in recent years, these should just reflect as love stories. They have always thought of the Districts as more radicals." I laugh, my love has been diluted to the word radical but I kind of like it. I smile across at the girl and she winks back.
Suddenly sunlight bursts out of the windows again and I rush over, taking my first glimpses of the Capitol. It's more than I could have ever imagined.
Eva Brath, 14, District 10.
There is no way anything in my life has prepared me for what I am staring at. The Capitol. My District partner Trav stares out with me as we try to process everything that we are seeing. Enormous skyscrapers tower above the world and a large river that we cross on a track higher than air.
We get closer to the Capitol, looping around the outside we stare at candy colored buildings that look so fake like they were made of cardboard from a child in a different life imagination. We catch glimpses of the people, dressed even weirder than our escort they point at the train that has been marked out for Tributes.
We get closer and I start to wave at the colorful faces that we pass, I can sense Trav start to wave and I smile at them. They talked to me about their identity last night and I am more than happy to embrace them. We all need a friend here.
I grab one of their hands as we wave to the people and the Capitol citizens beam back. Their cheering can just be heard outside of the thick glass. I get a buzz of this new celebrity momentarily as I watch how excited the people get to see us.
Then I remember that they will be even more excited to see us being killed for their entertainment. I drop Trav's hand and they look at me confused before they shrug and go back to waving at the people outside. I retire back to a chair, near the mentors they talk in hushed voices.
"You really should keep waving," Bellamy tells me, and Circe nods in agreement. But I just shake my heads at the two mentors and press my head against the cool table. I was wrong to enjoy the Capital for a moment. Forgetting how they killed my two sisters and will be killing me. How my father died because of them. How my younger sister will be sentenced to death after me. I won't win these Games.
I can only hope that I go out without too much pain. Nothing too gruesome for my sister to have to watch. She didn't really understand my sister's deaths. I covered her eyes when I knew they were coming and watched with tears streaming down my cheeks as they were killed. Both by the career pack.
When I took my hands off of my sister's eyes she didn't understand why my cheeks were wet and she couldn't see our sisters on the screen anymore. I just told her they were in a better place. I will be in a better place soon too. I hope her and mother don't miss me too much. But I know they will.
Grief never really goes away.
It stays.
It haunts.
It affects you every day.
Harvest Kohl, 15, District 11.
I have to be separated from Poppy and I hate it. I need to keep her protected. As much as she hates what is happening. But our mentors told us to do whatever our stylists need. So, I let myself and her go our separate ways.
I am thinking about her safety while I am plucked and prodded and placed into bathtubs full of different foul smelling liquids by the prep team that I have been given. They are getting me ready for the Chariot rides that will take place tonight.
They are absolutely buzzing, talking about all of the different Tributes reaped for this year's Games it surprises me that no one really gets their attention. I assume it's usually only the careers that the Capitol really cares about but this year they are talking about everyone. From the beautiful girl in District 6, the tough looking boy in 7, to the Volunteer in 5, another close pair in 3 and I even get mentioned a couple of times. They keep switching from Tribute to Tribute as fast as a switch and I can't keep up.
They do talk about the Careers a lot though. Especially the pair from 2. The boy's brutal entrance coated in blood and the apparent mystery around the girl has them talking. I guess they do not know the full story here. About the men, they executed for attacking her. They talk about 2's Stylist not being able to get close to her yet and how they are worried that the Stylist won't have enough time to fix the Tribute.
I don't know if I want her to be okay or not.
On one hand, I would hate the idea of any Tribute to go into the Game's injured. But she's a Career, and one with her level of beauty is a massive threat. She will have no trouble finding sponsors. She and the boy will make a formidable pair. I can't beat. But if I could I would say they are the ones most likely to make it out. Though only one can make it the whole way.
The prep team chatters and coos at the muscles that are on my body. They haven't seen a beefy Tribute from 11 in a while and I smirk to myself. But they also comment on how sweaty I am and I feel myself blush. It's not something that I can help. But really they don't seem to mind.
Partway through my transformation, someone brings out the goodbyes and I listen with curious ears as they explode into opinions. None waiting for the other to answer. From what I can piece together they are even more intrigued that the girl from 2's goodbye was the only one not shown. Makes sense. The Capitol only likes violence when it's tied in a pretty bow and marketed as the Games.
The boy from 4 comes up and they all have an opinion on him. They start to shout at each other and things become heated so I cannot understand them anymore but one of the prep team looks very pissed off, whereas the only male on the team looks impressed.
The girl from 1 is brought up with her father being a Victor and then they explode into tales of the other Tributes saying goodbye so that I cannot possibly keep track of it all. All I can tell is that we certainly are a controversial bunch of Tributes this year.
Eventually, the team gives me a thin robe and leaves me in a room that smells of roses and bleach. I stare at the ground until a door opens soundlessly. A man who must be my Stylist comes in.
"Right then, let's get down to business," he tells me, a smile that looks like a grimace on his face.
Flint Fraser, 13 District 12.
I sit across from my Stylist. An elderly woman she beams down at me and pinches my cheek before messing up my hair. We eat lunch together, in a room overlooking the Capitol, I watch the strange citizens go about their daily business. Their peculiar looks fascinate me and I start pointing them out to the Stylist.
She laughs back, pointing out looks of her own and telling me about how that style became a trend. She even shows me some of her modifications. Overly large eyes can be seen from afar, but less noticeable is tattooed on freckles that spot her face. A large tattoo of a bird perches on her shoulder blades and she gives me a glimpse, its beady eyes stare at me with an uncanny fashion to reality.
She asks me if there are any trends that I can see that I like and I immediately point out a young man with bright orange hair. She laughs at this before making a note of it. I watch in awe as a young boy throws a stick for a dog that looks uncannily like Pecan and I feel a stab of homesickness.
My Stylist seems to notice this, trying to distract me from my gloom with something she calls ice cream and is the best thing I've ever tasted. But its flavor feels muted on my tongue. I long for the harsh teasare grain of home.
Eventually, my Stylist gives up with trying to make me happier and instead shows me designs for the parade tonight. There's a reason District 12 is always last. And from the looks of what she is showing me, things aren't going to change anytime soon.
But she takes me back into the preparation area and passes me back to my prep team. I try not to sulk. I thought I was done with their clutches. They continue to coo over how cute I am as they discuss the other Tributes of the Games. I am not mentioned once.
They apply a foul-smelling coat to my hair that causes my scalp to tingle and I squeeze my eyes closed. I am at home. I am at home.
Everything is going to be okay.
Nathaniel Mattingly 18, District 2.
They walk me into one of the bedrooms on the train and I growl to myself. I shouldn't be here. But we need to present a unified team. I'm wearing the outfit that I am to complete the Chariot rides in and I am told that Cassia is too.
They told me to go in there and calm her down.
I don't know why they chose me for the job.
I guess no one else wanted to do it.
When I walk into her room I am surprised to find it decorated completely different to mine. Her bed is in the center of the room where mine was attached to the ceiling to the side. She has a large wardrobe to the left where I have a television screen that shows footage from all across the Capitol. I have a large jacuzzi tub near the center of the room, she has a coach near the end.
I spot her, sitting at the edge of her bed. Her outfit is on and makeup is done. Even I can admit that she looks stunning. Quite possibly the most beautiful person that I have ever and will ever see. I try to make my steps less intimidating. Cassia is a valuable ally in the arena. I will need to remember all that my parents taught me to charm this snake.
She looks up at the shadow that falls over her body from my tall frame and I see a flicker of fright in her eyes as she looks up at me. I try not to enjoy that fright. And instead, sit on the opposite end of the bed from her.
Her outfit shows off just as much skin like mine. But the back is covered. I raise my eyes at that and she notices. "To hide the scars," she explains, emotionless. "They could cover what my brother did yesterday but not the years before that," I try to feel sympathy and what she is telling me. But I can't. She's been training her whole life for these Games. I know he was a trainee at one point too. But he was lazy. Cassia could have taken him easily.
But I surprise myself when I lift off an intricately designed chest piece. Along my chest scars run in a crisscrossed pattern, never truly ending in one place and starting again at others. Some are small crescents, others are large deep cuts that are still purple from scaring. Cassia's eyes raise at the look of them and tentatively, she reaches a handout. Lightly touching one of the bigger scars that go across my stomach.
"How did you get them?" She asks, her voice barely a whisper. I take a deep breath. Only Milo has seen them before. I try not to think about them to myself. Pretending it is only the muscle that I see when I am shirtless. I never take my shirt off in front of people because of them. They reek of weakness.
"I was a small kid," I explain to her I pretend I am talking to Milo. I don't know why I am trusting Cassia with this. But I need someone to be my Milo inside the arena. Someone that can see beyond the mask of rage and bloodthirst that I must put on. It's been engraved into me since I started training.
"One of the older boys was training for the Games, he saw my size and decided to make me his toy." I spit out the word in disgust. "So for the next few years when he needed a carving or punching bag, he came to me."My voice trails off as I remember parts of my past I thought I had blocked out.
"I enjoyed watching him die," I reminisce on watching those Games. Wishing for his death but being fearful he would find out and get to me. But he got taken down, another Tribute made his end bloody and violent and I smiled as he was tortured. He died too soon. He deserved longer.
"After that, I decided I would volunteer, and decided that no one would ever do that to me again," I explain, Cassia looks back with a very confused look on her face and I wonder what is going through her head. The moment we share is long.
She turns her back to me, nimble fingers unbuckling a back piece that they put on her. As it falls I notice special padding that is not on mine. To help her heal. But that's not what catches my attention. She has no back. Only a mass of lumpy scars one over the other you can no longer tell where one ends and another begins.
"The Capital can't fix these. They run too deep," she explains, not looking at me. I slowly lift a hand and place it delicately on top of the scars, she flinches at the contact but does not move away. We sit for an impossibly long moment.
"My brother used me as his toy too. Bartering me off to the highest bidder. Only I couldn't stop it. I was afraid. I didn't want to hurt him." I suddenly understand Cassia's actions more. I had felt contempt that she hadn't done anything to harm her brother back. She was well trained enough to make mincemeat out of him. But there's a fear that developed between them. Just like I experienced too.
"I enjoyed watching him die too," she tells me. And looks over her shoulder towards me. Our eyes lock and for a moment I am not looking at her. I am looking at what I would of become if my tormenter had survived the arena.
At that moment I decide that I will keep Cassia safe.
My thoughts go to the boy from Four and I feel them turning dark. My prep team told me all about him. I know what he's like already. I won't let him touch her. A protective instinct I have never felt before rushes over me. I almost like the feeling. She starts to clasp her back piece on and I lean over to help her. She nods in thanks.
We sit there a moment longer, lost in our own thoughts. That is until Orion bangs on the door telling us it's time to go. Cassia jumps at the sound of his voice and looks momentarily shocked. Before she shakes her head. The makeup they put on her makes her look like a warrior.
"Ready to get the Capitols attention?" I ask her, feeling impossibly strong.
"I think we already have." She replies, a small grin on her face.
Authors note: Boy oh boy that was a long one to write. Thank you all for a large number of reviews on the past couple of chapters. Please please please keep it up so I know someone is actually reading what I'm spending so much time writing. Because man I love doing this!
As always thank you for reading! And let me know what you think of these Tributes.
May the odds be ever in your favor,
and,
thank you for your sacrifice.