You'll be thinking "damn, I knew her," but you didn't.
-Ruth B
Clio Paxton (17) POV
District 5 Female
I get out of bed with ease following my early morning wakeup call and immediately get in the shower. I've always thought that if I can get up early, I can get all of my sleepiness out early in the morning, so by the time I need to be productive, there's nothing standing in my way. In the shower, I try to pick scents that will get my blood moving; lemon body wash, eucalyptus and rosemary shampoo and conditioner, and orange face scrub. I get out and let the machines blast me dry with hot air before getting dressed, putting my wild hair into a bun, and going to meet Alicia at the breakfast table.
"So what's the plan for today?" I ask, loading up my plate with sausage, potatoes, and fruit.
"Now might be a good time to pick up some basic weapon skills," she says.
"I guess," I say, pushing the food around my plate. I've been dreading weapons. Learning to survive is one thing, but learning to kill…
"It'll at least be good for catching food," Alicia says, seeming to read my mind. Am I really that transparent? "Besides, knowing how to use a weapon will raise your odds and get you more sponsors."
"Kind of weird that the more I know, the less I'll have to use it," I say. It's something that's been on my mind a lot. The Career tributes know everything; they know how to use several weapons each, they've been learning survival skills their whole lives, and they always get control of the Cornucopia. They have all of the supplies, and in return, they're given even more supplies. I can't stop my next sentence before it leaves my lips. "It's not fair."
"It's not supposed to be fair." Alicia regards me as if I'm a child, and it makes me angry. Who does she think she is?
"Then it's stupid!" I say, trying to control my raising voice. "The sponsors who choose Careers are just making stupid decisions. Why give more to people who already have everything? It's a waste of money."
Alicia's features soften, and she speaks with a hushed voice. "No one ever said people in the Capitol are smart."
She looks like she wants to say more, but before she can, Elijah comes in. He's showered and dressed, but he looks like he's been crying. I sit up a little straighter in my chair. No matter how unhinged or childish I think I'm being, I at least take comfort in knowing that I'm handling this better than Elijah. His mentor, Nathan, emerges while he's serving himself breakfast, and before too long, we're all sitting together.
"So," Nathan says, taking a sip of his coffee. "Have you two thought any more about whether you'd like to be allies?"
I freeze. I hadn't given any more thought to teaming up with Elijah, because I knew right away that I absolutely did not want to. It's nothing really personal against him; I just don't want any allies at all. Though truthfully, even if I did want an ally, he wouldn't be anywhere near the top of my list. I open my mouth to explain that I'd rather fly solo, but Elijah cuts me off.
"I actually already formed a group," he says, seeming to perk up a bit. "Um, the girls from 6 and 7. Alayne and Lydia?" He must see the shock on my face, because he quickly adds "I'm sure they'd be okay with you joining us too, Clio. I just didn't think-"
"No, you're right," I say. I can feel my cheeks going red. "I, um… I wanted to be by myself anyway."
Why am I upset? I'm allowed to reject Elijah but he's not allowed to reject me? I shake the thoughts from my mind. It doesn't matter. I have actual problems to deal with.
Edison Burt (12) POV
District 7 Male
Heading down to the basement with Lydia, I remind myself that this is the day that I need to be productive and find an ally. I know with absolute certainty that I'm smart enough to make it on my own, but I'd be stupid to think that I can protect myself phsically in the Games. My thought is that I should find someone who's bigger and stronger than me that's willing to protect me in exchange for my superior intellect and ideas. I don't want a girl as my ally, due to females being less strong than men, so as soon as I get down, I start checking on the boys to see who's available.
Obviously, Districts 1, 2, and 4 are off-limits. I see the guy from 10 awkwardly holding onto the girl from 12's waist, and the guy from 5 is chatting with two girls whose districts I never bothered to learn. 3 and 11 are weak, and I see 8 and 9 talking to each other. That leaves 6 and 12.
The guy from 12 is closer to my age, while still definitely larger and stronger, so I decide to approach him first. Not to mention, although the guy from 6 is larger and older than 12, he seems weaker, and sort of nerdy. When it comes down to it, I don't doubt that 12 could beat 6 in a fight.
However, the more I look at him, the more unsettled I feel about my choice. There's something off about him, and I can't put my finger on it. I can't trust him. Instead, I make the decision to approach District 6 at the knot-tying station. Before I can even say anything, I notice that he's assembling his trap wrong.
"You're doing that wrong," I say. I take his place at the station, lightly shoving him out of the way to do so. I finish the trap correctly and hand it back, trying not to show how smug I feel.
"Thanks," he says, shortly. "But that's not what I was doing."
He expertly undoes the work that I put into it and redoes it the way he initially intended, and I see, yes, it's completely different than when I finished it for him. What I thought was supposed to be a trap to catch one small animal like a rabbit or squirrel around the middle turned out to actually be a trap to catch several small animals around their ankles. It's brilliant, actually. It uses the same amount of rope as the trap I was thinking of, but it's able to catch way more meat.
"Can you teach me how to do that?" I ask, speaking before I can even think.
He regards me with pursed lips, then breathes deeply through his nose. Wordlessly, he unties the knots and redoes them in front of me, glancing over every so often to make sure I'm understanding. I try my best to remember everything he does as he does it, and I'm kicking myself for not having paper to take notes. Before I know it, he's done. He unties everything once again and slides it over to me.
"Now you," he says. I take a breath and start, but realize quickly that I've forgotten most of the steps. I see my hands start to shake and I panic. I'm not going to let myself look stupid in front of this older tribute who was willing to take time out of his day to help me.
"I think-" he cuts me off.
"I think you're gonna need a lot of work," he says. "You should probably stick with me for a while."
"You mean like... be allies?" I say, trying not to let on how hopeful I am.
"We'll see," he says, looking past me. I look over my shoulder but don't see anything important. Just the pair from District 3 trying to identify some plants. "I have to see how you do today and tomorrow. I don't want to take responsibility for you if I think you're gonna mess me up. So at the end of the day tomorrow, I'll let you know for sure."
"I won't let you down," I promise.
Oneka Scalia (17) POV
District 9 Female
Training feels pointless. I know I'm going to die in that arena. I wouldn't allow anything else to happen. So why am I being forced to attend training sessions that will supposedly help me win? Even if I wanted to win, there's no way that I could learn enough in two eight hour sessions, plus one four hour one that could save me from dying at the hands of the Career tributes. Looking at the ginormous boy from District 1, or the deadly accuracy of the girl from District 2, how could I possibly survive if they attacked me? No amount of training would protect me from that.
So I sit. I sit and I play with my puzzle, even though after all these years, I've memorized how all of the pieces go. It's comforting to be in control of something for once. My stepmom gave me the puzzle when I was young and she first started noticing me getting anxious about things. She thought it would help. I guess it does.
Seven pieces, a four block cube. I start with one, build off of it, sliding the pieces around to make everything fit. After having the puzzle and using it so much, the pieces have smoothed down and they slide against each other with ease. They feel smooth like plastic, even though they're just painted wood. Some of the paint has chipped off, especially around the edges and corners, and some of the lighter pieces have dirty fingerprints on them that haven't gone away, despite years of scrubbing.
Why am I at training? They say that it's mandatory, but what are they going to do, kill me? It's nothing that won't happen in the next two weeks anyway. They could make me an Avox, which would admittedly be worse. I've heard from my stepmother that Avoxes are under strict supervision even when they sleep to keep them from committing suicide. I guess a lot of them realize that being a voiceless servant for the rest of their lives is a fate worse than death.
Is being an Avox really worse than my life right now? As it is, I'm never happy, I'm abused by the authority figure in my life, and I'm not allowed to speak my mind. If anything, maybe being an Avox would be good for me. It might give me purpose. Maybe it would give me a reason to wake up in the morning. Something to do.
On second thought, there's no way they would make me an Avox or even kill me before the Games because they would have no way to explain it to the audience, much less my stepmother, District 9's most recent victor.
I get up and leave training. Nobody follows me.
Adelaide Simon (15) POV
District 11 Female
At 1:00, we break for lunch. Coy and I are careful to choose a table with room for only two people, just in case the boy from District 12 decides to make a reappearance. I'm still fuming that I was punished for defending myself against an unwanted advance. I missed several hours of training because of him, so I'm not letting him get anywhere near us again. The table is already small to begin with, but to be safe, Coy and I arrange our plates and cups so there's not even a square inch of free space where District 12 could plant himself.
"How did you like throwing knives?" I ask, poking at my pasta with my fork.
"It was alright," Coy says. "Easier to hold onto than swords. Hard to aim, though."
"I think so, too. It's gotta be easier than a bow and arrow would be."
"Yeah, I don't even want to try that."
We sit in silence for a couple of minutes and focus on eating. It was a no brainer for Coy and I to team up in these Games, not only because we're District partners, but because we both have a connection to tributes from last year's Games. But that doesn't change the fact that we didn't know each other before we were reaped, and it can sometimes still be awkward between us.
Despite awkwardness, grief really does help to bond people who used to be strangers. I try not to compare my grief to his, but it does at least help us to find common ground. I lost a boyfriend, sure, but I was only 14. Even when we were together, I knew that we wouldn't be together forever, and there would probably be other guys for me. But Coy lost his older brother and the sole provider for his family. There's really no comparison.
"So I was thinking about the bloodbath," I say, trying to break the tension. "And what our strategy should be. I was thinking that as soon as the gong goes off, you run away and grab whatever you can on your way. You're the faster runner, so it makes sense. I'll run in and try to grab some supplies, then find you wherever you are."
"I can't let you risk-"
"It's fine," I cut him off. "I feel like people will think I'm less of a threat than you. I'm older, but you're bigger. I don't think people will be super worried about taking me out right away when there's bigger threats to deal with."
"I can't say that doesn't make sense," he says slowly. "I just… I'd feel terrible if something happened to you. I'd feel responsible."
"Don't. This was my idea. If it goes wrong, it's a hundred percent my fault."
Before Coy can respond, the head trainer is telling us that lunch is over and we should return to training. Wordlessly, Coy and I head over to the swimming pool. There's no big bodies of water in District 11, and we decided that it would be smart for us to learn to swim just in case.
Alecto Caraway (18) POV
District 2 Female
Lunch gives everyone a renewed energy, particularly Linda and Penny. I promised myself going into the Games that I wouldn't allow any of my allies to get under my skin, and I would try my best to at least be civil with all of them, but God, do these girls irritate me. It's like all they want to do is gossip and be best friends while simultaneously passive aggressively one-upping the other. Don't they realize that at least one, but probably both of them are going to die in that arena? I hate when allies try to be more than allies. It will only end with more pain.
After a couple of minutes of whining from the two of them, we agree to go to the spear fighting station, even though most of us are just fine with it. Come to think of it, Penny and Linda are also fine with a spear, but they insist that it's their weakest spot and they need to practice. Personally, I think it's stupid to focus on what you're not good at, and I can tell that the boys agree with me. There will more than likely be weapons that each of us are strong with in the arena, so there's no point in trying to be average at everything rather than excellent in just one. Whatever. If they want to make it harder on themselves, that's their prerogative, not mine. And if they need to kill someone from a distance but can't because they focused too much on spears, then so be it.
"Are you stupid?" Linda asks Terry. "What makes you think that's how you should hold a spear?"
"I just-" Terry starts.
"Just what? Thought you could hold a spear like a fairy wand?" Penny cuts in. She turns to the rest of us, ignoring Terry's clenching jaw. "I knew we shouldn't have let her join us. You guys think that just because she's sleeping wi-"
"Oh my God, Penny, shut up," Dustin says, sounding exhausted. As her District partner, I'm glad that Dustin was the one to finally stand up to her. It makes her less likely that she'll get upset and retaliate in the arena. "Give it a rest. Terry's with us and that's that. If you and Linda don't like it, you're more than capable of going off on your own."
That came as a shock. As much as I don't like Linda and Penny, they're two of the strongest competitors. Julius and Dustin might be protected since District partners aren't supposed to kill each other unless it's absolutely necessary, but that still leaves a massive target on my and Topher's backs. The two look at each other, and for a moment, I'm afraid that they'll take him up on his offer.
"Fine." Penny sneers. "We're staying. But we're not helping her."
I notice Dustin give Terry a look, and maybe I'm imagining it, but it looks like there's something between them. I'll have to keep an eye on them.
Tessa Ray (15) POV
District 12 Female
Manipulating Rowan is absolutely exhausting. First of all, he's clearly gay. I mean, he doesn't react at all when I touch him, and not to sound conceited or anything, but I legitimately can't think of any other reason why he wouldn't be interested. Even if I'm not necessarily his "type" (assuming he even likes girls in the first place), one or both of us could be dead soon! You would think he would jump at the opportunity to spend the last couple of weeks of his life in the arms of a pretty girl, but no. If anything, he seems bored.
As much as I hate to admit it, I need Rowan. Contrary to popular belief, I am not stupid. I know that if I'm going to live through that arena, I need someone stronger than me to hunt, build a shelter, and, if necessary, defend me in a fight. And in return, I can attract sponsors, maybe cook, and make the rest of his life somewhat bearable. To his credit, Rowan does seem to realize this. Obviously I'm not in love with him, and he's not in love with me. I mean, we've only known each other for a day. I've never bought it when tributs try to act like they've found true love in the arena. But the Capitol does seem to eat it up.
The knife escapes Rowan's hand and lands in the dummy's chest with a powerful thwok! He is getting pretty good at this.
"Rowan!" I squeal, getting up on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. I look up at him from under my eyelashes and smile sweetly. "That was sooo impressive."
"Thanks, Tess," he says, pushing a strand of hair out of his face.
"Tessa," I correct him gently.
Without missing a beat, he slides his arm around my waist and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. "I like Tess better," he says.
For a split second, I feel a flutter in my stomach, but I quickly snap myself out of it. He doesn't have feelings for me. He's either acting for the sake of the tributes and Gamemakers watching, or he's trying to convince me that he really does like me to throw me off of my rhythm. Well, two can play at that game.
"Do you want to try something else?" I say, taking his hands in mine. "You're so good at this already, I don't know if you need any more practice."
"Aw, but I want to make sure I'm good enough to keep you safe," he says, bashfully. "How about another 30 minutes, and then we'll do something you want to do?"
If I have to stand here for another 30 minutes and watch Rowan throw knives at mannequins and pretend to be excited, I might actually lose my mind.
"That sounds wonderful," I say, faking another smile.
Lydia Collins (18) POV
District 7 Female
"So how was day two?" my mentor Oxanna asks over dinner. I know I'm going to have to get used to her eventually, but I can't stop thinking about her Games.
"It went okay," I say. "I took your advice and found some allies. The girl from 6, um, Alayne, and the boy from 5, Elijah."
"The boy from 5?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "That brightly colored one who bawled like a baby when his name was chosen?"
"He seemed really nice," I say quickly, trying to justify my actions. "And he's actually pretty rational-"
"Nice isn't going to help you in the arena," she says. "It's just going to make it harder for you to kill him when the time comes."
"Didn't you decapitate a 17-year-old girl with a baby at home in your Games?" Edison asks. I had forgotten he was there
He's not wrong. Oxanna won the 200th Hunger Games, the 8th Quarter Quell. The twist that year, as a reminder to the rebels that Capitol families were torn apart as a result of the war, the tributes were reaped from a pool of all District parents aged 16 to 45. Oxanna, 32 at the time, had three children waiting for her back home, and the youngest was only 2 years old. During her interview before the Games, she said that she was going to do whatever she needed to do to get home to her kids. As soon as the gong went off, she charged into the center of the Cornucopia, grabbed an axe, and went on a killing spree. She alone was responsible for four bloodbath deaths, and her Games lasted less than a week.
Her face goes pale, and her eyes become stormy.
"I did what I had to do for my kids," she snarls. "Not that you could ever understand. It's not like you're going to live to-"
Edison's mentor, Axle, slams his fist on the table, causing wine to splatter out of his cup and onto the white tablecloth. An Avox rushes over to dab the liquid up with a rag.
"Enough!" he exclaims. "Oxanna, you worry about your own tribute. Lydia, that boy was a bad choice, but you're stuck with him now. And Edison, you never ever bring up what a victor did to win their Games, especially to their face. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," he manages to squeak out.
I look around and take in the scene. The Avox cleaning up the deep red spill, Edison holding back tears, and Axle and Oxanna shooting daggers at each other with their eyes. I decide that the best thing for me to do is to remove myself from the situation, so I get up and go to my room. I make sure that the door closes and locks behind me, then I get in the shower, turn the water on hot, and cry.
Ballad of inconsistent updates and quarantine. I keep saying this to my friends, but as soon as I can get out of the pre-Games stuff, chapters should come more frequently. This has just always been the hardest and most boring part for me.
If you guys are looking for a SYOT that will be updated frequently, check out Lindsay's story (pen name ladyqueerfoot, or you can click the link in my profile that says "Lindsay").
I'm not going to leave you with any questions, but I would appreciate a review nonetheless. Instead of an end sign, I'm just gonna leave a different musical theatre quote at the end of each chapter.
-No day but today.