Day 6: Warrior
Warrior by Demi Lovato
All the pain and the truth
I wear like a battle wound
So ashamed, so confused
I was broken and bruised…
Disclaimer: Don't own the Hunger Games…
Control Room
Hunter Brookstone (24) Gamemaker POV
"We've got a sponsor here for you Hunter."
"Ahh. Okay bring them in."
Lately there have been many sponsors lining up and filling in their requested items here for the tributes, each happy and excited to be able to help them. Of course though I could always deny gifts if I know a tribute will die soon, but I usually don't for the sake of time and well because in a small way I care for these tributes. I agree on many things with the Capitol the least one being the Games not for the usual reasons just that there are other ways you could deal with the Districts. Sure entertainment is the best way of brainwashing these stupid Capitolites but other than tha-
"Hi," a high pitched squeal calls from behind the door. I feel my eyebrows raise as a small girl with red hair and aqua blue eyes appears before my desk, a small envelope encased in her hands.
"Hello," I murmur as I watch the girl smile and shake my hand. "Are you the sponsor?"
"I sure am," she exclaims grabbing the forms that sit on the edge of my desk. "Do you have a pen, sir?"
"Yes, here," I say while handing her the black ink pen. She curtsies and sits at the back of the room, quietly and quickly writing in the forms.
"How many tributes will you be sponsoring?"
"All of them."
I gulp. "All of them," I choke feeling the sense of dread and worry fill my head. We've never had someone sponsor the remaining tributes. Never!
"That will be expensive young lady."
"Of course. Here," she said handing me the envelope. "That should be more than enough."
I open the envelope and gasp as I finger the pouch that holds Capitol dollars and coins, this certainly is more than enough. Who is this small girl? "My, my," I whisper as I reach for the collar of my shirt feeling the sweat beginning to form. "According to the forms you go by… 'J.C.'?
"Yes, sir."
"Okay then umm, thanks for supporting your favorite tributes."
"Well they all deserve to get out don't they?"
I am speechless as the little girl leaves, closing the door quietly as her small footsteps could be heard from outside. I place the small envelope in my desk drawer and begin to fill in the order. I couldn't possibly send these out all today; something would definitely sound fishy… right! I'll just send them in throughout the days, that'll be perfect! Of course the one thing I care more than the Capitol is securing my job here, a very safe place from my past…
Cornucopia
Mako Capper (17) D2 Male POV
Get home to Mayden, you deserve it.
-J.C.
I sigh looking at the small basket of fruit and pastries sent to me by a wealthy sponsor, my first sponsor gift. I was getting jealous of seeing all of Leon's and Madeline's especially since all they did was sit around and wait for my orders. Now look at us, District 1 gone, Madeline I have no fucking idea about, and District 4 is somewhere together. I'm all alone, just me and this stupid notebook I found off of that kid, Teff. Sitting content under the steel walls of the Cornucopia I can't help the growing urge to really read the journal. I had only skimmed through it before, while he was dying and never really gave a thought to it. Just remembering his last words sends chills down my spine…
"I forgive you…"
"I forgive you…"
"I forgive you…"
The voice rings and echoes in my ears making me feel remorse. Something a Career shouldn't feel, I was trained at the Academy, right? I mean… they wouldn't have wanted it this way. Not for a Career to feel bad for killing, it's unspeakable, unheard of, dangerous. If they ever found out… when I return home… disastrous results.
What is wrong with me? I must be stupid, so stupid to feel this way, to try to remember the lives I toke.
I have to get home to Mayden, that's why I do this but if there was just some other way, some other way I could get her out of our father's hands…
I've disappointed everyone, the Academy, Mayden, Mom… oh Mom. What you would you do? What would you tell me, would you tell me everything would be all right? That maybe, just maybe I'll get out of this alive. I don't know. I wish you were here; maybe you could've saved us. Saved Mayden, got us away from him… I really need you; I wish you could help me. I miss the comfort of your arms around me, telling me it was going to be okay. I did that for Mayden, every night after you disappeared. I held her and cried with her, our confessions slipping through our lips without a care in the world, not knowing the consequences they would carry. I broke that promise; I broke your promise, Mom. I know you never wanted me to go in the Arena, to fight, but what other choice did I have? I hate feeling this way, feeling like crap and lonely, remorse and dread. I just wish I would stop feeling and start doing, to start acting like a real Career.
I feel the sting in my eyes, the feeling of wanting to let everything out. To just cry and let out everything would help me, but wouldn't help my persona. I must stay strong, for Mom wherever she is and Mayden. My only hope…
East of the Cornucopia- Mountainous Terrain
Vanity White (15) D9 Female POV
Where once stood a barren landscape with tumbling weeds and one hundred degree weather now sits a breath taking and wondrous area. One with rolling mountains from far away that stands with such vigilance and honor that any tribute would be proud to stand upon it and claim victory. The air is fresh, not humid and suffocating as it was here and at the meadow, no, this air is crisp. Crisp like a celery stick, once you break it in half this mist of sorts bursts from it and satisfies you. I guess the air quality is so pure from the many pine trees that cover most of the area. I sit on the edge of one of these mountains and look off way into the distance thinking of so many things, survival, strategy… winning.
Monty must be so worried, scared even as she watches from our small shack in District 9 of me. Sweet Monty, innocence lost so young, a bud that bloomed too early and now struggles to survive amongst the harsh and cruel elements. So rare a thing that now falls upon me to heal and restore to its hidden and restricted beauty.
I miss you. I love you. I will get home to you… Monty…
Control Room
Icelynne Winterrose (19) Head Gamemaker POV
"No deaths today…"
"Yeah," Izzy sighs looking at the bulletin board with all the deceased tributes, fourteen children who will never breathe or love again. "We still haven't decided on a Victor, Icelynne."
"I know. I'm still deciding."
"Didn't Seraphina want to pick?"
"Well we're still discussing… Who would you like to win?"
She purses her lips and takes a look at the remaining tribute bulletin board and traces her index finger over the profile picture of each and everyone. "I don't know… they all deserve to go home."
This sad and depressing aura radiates from Izzy as she sits at the empty table, the others long gone since Izzy and I volunteered to watch the remaining ten tributes reactions and emotions tonight. She's been very distant, lost in thought. Now this isn't the usual Izzy thing where she'll spot a rainbow or butterfly and totally zone out, this is like a lost look, damaging even.
"I never wanted to be Gamemaker…" She sighs and tears begin to fall from her vacant blue eyes. "Not after what happened to Iri…"
"Iri?"
"I'm a triplet to my brother Dev and my sister Iri. When we were sixteen, I was picked to volunteer for the 91st Games. My sister was very angry with me, I was so scared," she mumbles looking at the bulletin board. "I was so scared because I just wanted to be good at something; I never meant to outshine her."
She lets out a shaky breath and continues. "I told the trainers I couldn't volunteer; I was too scared to face death. I even told them Iri could volunteer in my place… but they didn't want her to. My parents were angry, my siblings were angry… all because I was chosen to volunteer and if I didn't I would be kicked out."
I nod trying to figure out what to say next, I open my mouth but she carries on, her voice cracking with each sentence. "I promised her that I would pretend not to get there on time to the stage, that she would've beaten every girl up there." She turns her attention to me now, her face evident of the pain and misery of a sibling going into the Games… like me. "She did and she thanked me for it, my brother was furious with me, punching me and hitting me… She went into the Games and died in the final five. My brother didn't talk to me after that, they kicked me out of the Academy and I died inside…" At this point she is full out sobbing, the snot dripping from her nose.
"You see this," she screams as she rolls up her sleeves, underneath is peach colored skin with faint and rigid white lines that run parallel to her arms. "They caused this to happen! They told me I wasn't anything! That I was nothing!" She runs into my arms and I hold her feeling her small frame fit into mine like a puzzle piece. "I just wanted to live; I didn't want to die…"
"Izzy. Why didn't you tell us earlier…"
"Because I wanted to prove to my family I could amount to something. That I wasn't a loser like Dev said," she blubbers into my shoulder. "I died inside."
"Izzy," I coo as I pat her wavy blonde hair, the feeling of dread and remorse filling me up like a balloon. "I'm your sister now."
"I know," she sniffles smiling as she looks up at me, her blue eyes shining once again. "And you guys saved me…"
She sighs and quickly wipes her eyes looking once more to the remaining tributes. "They all deserve to go home, because their loved ones are waiting for them…"
A/N: No deaths! The next chapter will feature the other three areas and such. Day 7- The Lucky One is up!
Disclaimer: Madeline's POV was inspired by the narrator from Edgar Allen Poe's, 'The Tell-Tale Heart'. Well kinda… :p
Love Always, Domi