The original work belongs to Suzanne Collins and her publishers or any other co-owner. I'm merely borrowing her epic work to make my own spin; the idea of a time-travel simply refusing to leave me alone, so I had to write it.
I'm making no profits from this and the story isn't that good, if you haven't read Collins magnificent work I suggest you do. My messy fanfic is but a gnat in her shadow. If anyone is offended I'm very sorry.
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Chapter 14
Time for conversation has past. Everyone's ready for the show to begin. We are given the signal when the national anthem starts playing. The massive doors starts opening and the first chariots begins to move.
A straight path made of white cobblestone, 74 meters wide and 2 kilometers long, lays before us. The public sits on giant lectors at the sides, happily shouting as the first wagon appears. I swallow as the noise almost deafens me, it seems like the whole population is attending by the sound of it
Soon we will be out there, trying to gain sponsors. The thought is daunting. Having to smile the whole time as we travel towards the end-circle where we will be greeted by President Snow. It will be the first time for over twenty years that I will lay my eyes on him again.
Fortunately it will be a while yet. We are twelve and many will go before us. The longer the better.
The concretion begins with district one; the luxury district, often portrayed as the doll of the districts and loved by the Capitol. Glimmer and Marvel are dressed in gem-stones, glitter and expensive feathers. Showing of the richness of their home. Their horses are pure white, but covered in diamonds.
After them is district two; the masonry and weapon district. I have never had any love for them, they live for combat. Clove and Cato are no exceptions. They look like bloodthirsty warriors as they shout out their battle-cries to the audience pleasure. Both dressed in leather-garb with golden plates around their shoulders and waist.
Then district three; district for technologically advances. They're dressed in black bodysuits with blue net-like-lines. Their faces is covered with a see-through-lens in blue glass that the public adores it. Followed by four, the fishing district, with its tributes dressed in nets, seaweed and blue cashmere.
When the careers has been greeted by the public it's time for the rest of us.
District five, six and seven is first to leave the hall. Five, being the power districts, has its tributes in atom-based suits and hats that sparkles. Six in space-travel-outfits since their district deals with transportation. Seven is dressed in elaborated origami-costumes that shows little of the tributes themselves. Making me think of Johanna's dislike for the stylist love of lumber and wood. I can almost hear her swearing at the chariot.
Next district eight, nine and ten joins the concretion. Eights tributes looks like jokesters; dressed in layers of layers of fabrics, showing the district different textiles. Nine are portrayed as grain, a clear reflection of their district. Ten's dressed like cowboys; I can sort of understand the point, their district being in charge of livestock and all.
Then it's time for the chariot in front of us, containing Thresh and Rue. I have been avoiding looking at them, but as we start moving my eyes lands on her. She is dressed in a soft green dress. Her hair done into an elaborated flower like pattern. She looks like a fruit-flower in bloom. Thresh complementing her somewhat as an apple-picker.
The difference in outfits worries me, not knowing what brought on the change. It almost brings on another panic-attack. I'm forced to accept that changes is happening and how unreliable my former knowledge is. The only thing that stops me from making a fool of myself is the chariots movements and the flashing cameras in my face. I'm too stubborn and pigheaded to give the onlookers the satisfaction.
To calm myself I think of Prim; home from school and looking at me. I gather courage from her being alive and thinking of me.*I can do this, for her… *.
Just as we appear in the opening Cinna lights us on fire. We almost jump from the sudden flair behind us; Peeta's because the fire looks so real and I because of past memories. Fire burns after all. Like me - the girl on fire.
Every eye is upon us. First there are stunned silence, but soon the shouting starts. I look over the public and I feel my stomach tying itself into a knot. Nerves hits me hard. I feel like an innocent child put on display before strangers. People whom I will be responsible for killing; I can feel it in my bones, it's already begun. I can't stop it now.
I'm playing the game.
...
Peeta get into the charade immediately and starts waving at the crowd with a big smile, they go wild for him. I only manage to smile stiffly and nod politely. Unable to bring myself to be lovey-dovey with all this people cheering for my death.
Peeta turns to me after seeing my face on the banners; he can tell how hard it's for me and smiles softly before reaches out with his hand. I meet him halfway, having a firm grip on the chariot with one hand as I cling to his with the other. He lifts our hands into the sky, for the Capitol to see. The crowd goes wild. We stand united, for the whole Capitol to see.
Soon we can hear how the crowd are screaming "district twelve" and I can breathe easier. They have noticed us once again, we will get quit the followers. The women looks positively in love with Peeta. *If they dare touch him I will shop of their hands* I think as I try to look like a young women overwhelmed and meek. Probably not succeeding do to the rage inside me.
I can see us on the arena-screens; we are like two phoenixes reborn. Everyone can see us, despite the flames on our backs. We are the favorites for this night, but I know that it can easily change in an instant.
I hardly notice the crowd after a while. There is too much going on. I do manage to capture some of the roses thrown at us and Peeta has equal luck. All I can focus on is my hand in Peeta's and that soon I will meet President Snow once again.
I do refocus when Peeta squeezes my hand and I quickly look at him. His smile looks a bit strained, his eyes tired. The effort to look young and happy beginning to wear on him.
I step a bit closer to him and started waving more energetic and seeking out the people's eye. Trying to make it easier on Peeta, give him time to collect himself. Throwing out comments as we go, trying to take his mind of the audience.
I had hardly cared about him the first time we had made this journey. He must have felt so alone, abandoned and exposed as he stood here, beside me; without any allies or hope to survive the games. This time that was a bit different… I care this time and I will make damn sure that he knows that before we go inside the arena.
By the time we are at the City Circle my hand is almost blue from our hold, I can hear bones shifting but ignore it. We need the contact for what's coming next. The chariots fill the loop of the Circle and before us a silver citadel stands tall and firm. I get the chills as I see it.
When we come to a stop and the music ends President Snow appears on the podium. He's smaller than I remember, is my first thought. He'd been made into a symbol of oppression during the war, a giant tyrant to be destroyed. But now as I look at him I find myself more curious than afraid. This man has skillfully managed to build up, maintain and strengthen Panem for decades. Maybe on the bodies of children, but still a powerful person. I almost can respect him as he walks towards us.
Thankfully my hatred for the man stops me.
Snow is dressed in a white suit, richly decorated with white gold-tread. His paper-white hair is combed back, his skin pale and his blue eyes cold. He looks like an old garden snake in hibernation. But looks can be deceiving, he's very poisonous after all and quick to bite.
The President greets us warmly and speaks for a few minutes, more towards the audience than us. The cameras circle the chariots during this time, we being the clear favorites. Snow doesn't talk long and soon we anthem start up again. Signaling the end of the progression. Now it's off to the training-facilities for us.
A building specifically design for the tributes. Every district has its own floor, starting with one and up. I think there is a symbolic touch to the roof, level thirteen, which is an open area with a garden specifically grown by the Capitol. Nothing is natural. The place is like a bird-cage; design to please, but still a prison.
...
As we leave the public's eyes our prep-team descends upon us. Peeta and I finally let go of each other's hand and we try to message some life into our sore limbs. While our team seems overjoyed by the crowd's response the other tributes are shooting us dark looks. They don't like how much attention we gained. We are going to have to watch our backs from now. We are not well liked.
Cinna and Portia helps us down from the chariot. The flames are soon put out and we can breathe easier. We let the team work, to exhausted to care about any results. Portia is the first to scurry of with her tribute, promising him a hot shower. I look pleading at Cinna and he gives me an equal promise off a hot shower.
After the shower and getting dressed in new clothes I follow Effie to our floor. Haymitch is collecting Peeta so we have the entire twelfth floor to ourselves for a few minutes. I hardly look at the layout, already familiar with it. Instead I sit down at the dinner table that is placed in front of a large window.
"You were truly marvelous my dear. So pretty with that fire." Effie tells me as she poured herself some juice. "I might have a real shot of advancing next year because of you. How exciting."
"We're happy to help." Is my sarcastic reply.
"Oh, dear. I've hurt you." She sounds shocked by the very idea. Unable to understand why I wouldn't love the attention we're getting. " Katniss, darling, the games has truly been a hard on me. My tributes has never gotten this much attention. You should enjoy it, I do."
"It's hard to enjoy something that will kill you." I say bitterly. Staring down at my plate.
At that moment we are interrupted by an Avox entering the room. It is Lavinia, Darius wife. I go cold as I see her. Last time we meet I had babysat her baby. She doesn't speak, can't since her tongue is removed and I have to force myself to look away. Feelings of guilt weighing me down. I have failed her in so many ways.
"Oh, good. Start bringing out the food and then make sure the rooms are ready." Effie orders and Lavinia follows without question. It hurts seeing her broken and meek. Knowing the person that's hiding inside.
"I don't know if I can eat." I tell her as the table get set.
"None of that, you need to eat." Effie says without pause, making me focus on her, before sending the Avox away. "You are my tribute. I can't have you fainting from hunger, how unprofessional."
"Yes, wouldn't want you to appear amateurish." I say sarcastically.
"Now look here young lady, I'm the best at what I do, and all I needed was to get noticed." Effie informs me. "I know every single sponsor in this city, and now I can finally reach for the sky. It will be marvelous." She sounds so convinced that I'm inclined to believe her, Effie is a force to be reckon with when she decides to be, but selfish.
"Just eat your dinner and leave the rest to me; I will make you a star..." I start eating just to have an excuse for not talking while Effie makes calls on her pod and plans. Lavinia thankfully doesn't come back.
By the time Haymitch and Peeta join us I have already consumed three sandwiches, some soup, one apple and two bananas. My appetite being bigger than my guilt it seems. Peeta ditches Haymitch and joins me in the nearby chair and digs in. He's as hungry as I am. The atmosphere is a bit tense, but mostly friendly.
When nighttime comes we all retire to our rooms. But I found myself unable to relax, the stress of the day being too much. I sit on the bed, the sound of the wind going through threes playing in the backroom; complements to my forest-projected wall. I let my hands flow over the soft fabric on the bed. It feels like water. I breathe in the cool air and think of Prim and mom.
I know how important sleep is, that and food, but I'm too high-strung. The thought of home not helping. Then there's Peeta, the game will be hardest on him. He has no survival skill or knowledge about the wild. His whole life has been about fearing it. A fact encourages in twelve.
What saved him the first time was the alliance with the careers. It had cost him his leg, but he had lived. Otherwise he would have died within the first two days. Incapable of hunting for his own food, building a shelter or make fire.
After a while I can't sit still anymore. I feel too contained. I walk into the main room, at first I believe myself alone but a burp announces the present of another. It comes from across the room. I walk towards the bar, hidden away by heavy curtains of black metal plates. Knowing who I will find.
The curtains make a clipping sound as I enter. Making a pair of red swollen eyes lock onto mine. At first you would think it is because of the drinking, but the redness of the cheeks indicates crying. Haymitch never cries.
I look around, there is no one but us. I curse silently, never being good at giving comfort, but unwilling to leave him alone since we need him sober in the morning. I move to sit next to him at the glass-disk, touching its cold surface to have something to do.
"What's up?" I start lamely, the only thing I can think of saying.
"You… You know. I… I hate this shit." Haymitch slurs as he throws his free hand around him. Indicating the whole Capital. I silently agree with him. He looks at me.
"You ain't dumb." He says after staring at me for a few seconds.
"No I'm not." I say. "But I ain't smart either."
He nods at this. Agreeing. It had taken me years to accept that my intelligence was limited, that I wasn't smarter than others. I just looked at the world from another point of view than normal. Guess it happens when you spend years focusing on two points: survival and food.
We sit in quiet for a while.
"Can't sleep?" He asks.
"...Too much to process." I answer.
He nods before lowering his head into his hands. The glass of whiskey left alone for a while.
"That's the trick you know." Haymitch says, his voice lowered.
"To think?" I ask. He shakes his head.
"No, to take time to process." He says. He looks up at me and makes sure that I listen. "That's the key. If you slow down for just a second and process what happening it gives you more tools." I get what he is saying, but we both know that it's not that simple.
"A bit hard to stop when the person behind you is trying to kill you." I half-joke. It makes him chuckle darkly. Silence descends again. He is of in his own land, miles away. I can see how he starts yearning for another sip of the booze, his hand is starting to twist.
"We understand you know." I say to distract him and take a hold of his glass, moving it out of the way. He is startled by my sudden words and seems intrigued.
"What?"
"The pain." I plow on anticipating his reaction. "What you have to do every time. The choice... How little you have to work with. We understand Haymitch." I say it softly, needing him to realize that we don't look to him for a savior. Only to get us as far as he can. Because you are never free from the Game. NEVER. Not even when peace reign.
He flies of the barstool, knocking it over. The sound louder because of the open space. He don't stay around, practically storms away. I won't see more of him tonight. I grimace at this and raises the glass to my lips. I stop when a new voice speaks behind me.
"That went well." Peeta says. He looks as tired as I feel. He smiles at me, but it doesn't reach his eyes; looking like a ghost. I indicate the chair to my left which he takes. I give him the glass and he takes a small sip, his gasp makes me smile a bit more warmly.
"Do you think he is right?" Peeta asks me.
"About what?"
"His advice." Peeta says as he take another sip before handing me back the glass.
"Yes." I answer. "But it will be a hard one to follow. Our instinct will tell us otherwise."
"How do you know that?"
"After my father died all I could do was react to everything for months. I stopped thinking and I didn't even realize it." I say bitterly, it hadn't been until Peeta gave me the bread that I had taken the time to deal with everything and only after the war had I comprehend it all. The urge to survive can actually lead a person to their death, not rescue.
At my words Peeta only nods.
"...Are you tired." I ask.
"Yes. But I can't sleep." He answers.
"Neither can I."
He just hums at this. I wait for a couple of seconds, the idiot doesn't grasp it. I roll my eyes. I turn to him and poke him on the forehead.
"We slept well together last night, no nightmare. Willing to do it again?" I ask in a snarky voice. Irritated by his idiocy.
"Oh!" Is the reply. I'm ready to call it quits and go back to bed. As I move to get up Peeta stops me by placing his hand over mine. I look at him, he is smiling for real this time.
"Sure. That would be great." I nod and take hold of his hand and lead him to my room.
I open the doors and walk inside. Peeta follows, trying to be as quiet as he can be. That is not much. I bite my tongue to stop myself from commenting. All that grace he can have in a room full of people, but the moment he is unsure of his environment he turns into a stumbling buffoon.
"Will the trees and the sound bug you?"
"No! But I'm not used to it." Peeta answers bravely. "... why a forest?"
"My father loved the tranquility the forest provided." I tell him as I draw the cover from the bed, to selfish to change the scenery. We crawl in and get settled, curling up close to share body heat. To begin with Peeta's too nervous to relax, but after I start humming under my breath he slowly calms down.
Soon he's asleep and I scoot closer, wrapping my arms around him and fall asleep.
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Chapter 15
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The next day is full of activity, making me thankful for the rest I've gotten. Unfortunately we hadn't been as lucky this morning to wake up on be ourselves. Instead Effie shrieking and yelling of "Get up" had made us spring from the bed in panic.
We had almost fallen off, but thankfully Peeta was quick to catch us before we tipped over. It had progressed from there into a full out nightmare. At the table Effie went on and on about our success the other day; how she had meet with so many people to advertise us and how much we had, as a pair, left an impact. I was in a horrible mood when breakfast was done.
A fact that Haymitch used viciously for his own amusement. At the moment we were on the way down to the training facilities. Haymitch making jokes as we traveled.
"So… How long have you been lovey-dovey? Hmm. Come on tell uncle Haymitch all about it." I was contemplating murder. His one saving grace being that we had arrived at the ground floor and would soon be in the presence of the other tributes. I almost wish I would be facing him in the arena. The thought of pummeling him made me salivate.
I'm first to step into the training-facilities. The space is huge and located below the hotel, with no possibilities for escape. Thankfully far away from the media, they don't have excess here. The walls surrounding me are grey concrete and everywhere there is weapons, supply tables, training areas, dummies, computers, training-programs and much more. I instantly recognize the layout.
The next few days will be busy ones. We only have three days to learn the basics; the first few hour is for introduction and basic courses, then getting acquainted with the facility and practice. I want to forgo all of that and just play with the bows before me, to the left, until the days are done. The thought of interacting with the others are daunting.
The weight of a bow-kit is like a security-blanket for me; narrowing my world down to the string and arrow. I desperately want that, but need to pay attention to the lectures offered. I will need the knowledge later. Last time I forgot almost everything due to stress and now I have Peeta to think off. I will not waste this opportunity by longing after a weapon. Especially since Snow will later try to kill me.
The training room is full, all the other twenty-two tributes are already there and by the looks of it in full work. The competition is hard, even in the softer youngsters you can see the burn for survival showing. In here we all stop being human and starts becoming tributes.
A deadly toy made by the capitol.
Haymitch stands behind me and Peeta, sizing up the competition.
"Whatever you do don't show them any true strength or skill. No one really believe that our district has much to give, let them continue believing that." He tells us quietly.
Peeta looks at him for a second and then nods.
"I don't have any particular skill. Katniss' is a good hunter though. My father says her arrows never misses." He trails off before he moves towards the camouflage section. Not wanting to linger. Haymitch looks at me inquiry.
"I had to hunt to survive, many at home knows this so…" I wagly answer.
"And you didn't mention this before..." Haymitch asks darkly.
"I didn't trust you yet. Still don't, but..." I tell him in a clip voice. Haymitch makes a face but nods, understanding my thought process.
"Keep that close until you are before the gamekeepers. They will be impressed if you are good." I nod at Haymitch words, already knowing this.
"Peeta underestimates himself, he has unbelievable strength and he can use color to blend in." I whisper to Haymitch as I watch Peeta. The instructor hasn't started her lecture, but shows him to the different items at his request.
"Then keep him from showing it." Haymitch hisses at me and pushes me towards my fellow tribute. I roll my eyes at the man's retreating back and walk over to Peeta. We have another ten minutes before the head-trainer starts showing us around and I want to get a few words with him before. The instructor leaves us alone as I walk up, giving me room to talk more openly.
"You do the cakes back home, don't you?" Is the first thing I say, startling Peeta. He holds a paintbrush in his hand and looks at me.
"Yes."
"The once usually shown in the windows, right." I take the brush from him and places it on the table.
"Yes, usually. Mom isn't as good at the details as I am." He answers.
"Good. Then you have a strong skill. You can mask yourself, blend in with your surroundings. That and your strength are your biggest weapons." I tell him in short order.
"That not much." Peeta sounds defeated. I had forgotten how insecure he was at this age and how little hope he had of surviving.
"Perhaps, or it is just enough to build something out off. You have what you have. The question is how you are going to use it." I say in an angry tone, annoyed by his attitude. I hate seeing him so weak.
I don't let him speak, instead I move over to the group at the center. All tributes are now accounted for. Every face I look at is stiff and closed off. All are tense and worried, what we learn here determines how long we survive out there. The thought is daunting.
We all stand there together; Peeta and I in our red, black and silver uniforms. It is made out of a soft fabric that stretches as you move. I have never thought about how comfortable it was, the shirt and pants hugs my figure and keeps me warm and yet at the same time cool. The number twelve is sown into the back, front chest and upper shoulders, making it capable for onlookers to identify us.
The others have different outfits, made to suit the wearer, mostly in colors based on their district. It makes the group as a whole look like a gathering of birds. The thought almost makes me snort. The image of the twelve districts prancing by a lake is amusing. Fox girl, who's named Finch, seems to sense my thought for her green eyes drills into mine and I quickly look away. Seeing her dead face flash before my eyes. I will not forget her name this time. That much I owe her.
Our head trainer is yet again Atala, a big and muscular woman around forty. She must come from district two for she has the classical signs; Closed of face, short nose, cold eyes, muscle mass and short temper. The epitome of a soldier.
She tells us about the different instructors and trainers, their specialty and sections. Such as medic-station, hunting- and snare-station, survival-station, camouflage-station, food-station and so on. The biggest focus points for many was the training areas; were different trainers thought you the basics in combat, knife throwing and sword-fighting.
Atala only has one major rule that all contestants must follow; there is to be no form of fighting between the contestants.
As we listen to Atala my eyes wonders to the different tributes, most of them taller and stronger than me. But I can easily ignore them. What affected me the most it the younger children. Most of us was in our late teens, but they're small and has next to nothing going for them in this game. All off them look starved and weak.
Peeta and I have that going for us, we were by no means healthy, but neither are close to starvation. Me thanks to the meat I hunted and Peeta to the bread he baked. I soon leave this trail of thought, the concept too heavy to contemplate. I knew that I would face all this again when volunteering. No point in crying over it now.
When Atala is done the group split up, the careers going for the heavy weapon whilst the rest of us linger around the survival area. Some tributes tried to impress the careers, as usual for every game and failing miserably.
The careers usually ignore outsiders, keeping close to their own group. Killing of any real competition at the cornucopia, before taking care of the leftovers. Their strategy usually works well to their favor, but many smarter tributes have used this fact against them. Johanna being an excellent example. She manage to make everyone underestimate her by playing weak, than later killing her opponents of one at the time viscously.
"We should not be seen to close, the careers might think we are making an alliance and that isn't good." I whisper to Peeta as we slowly move over towards the survival-area. He nods slowly, getting the idea of my plan.
We don't split up but keep our distant for the rest of the day. We develop a working system of silent signals. I would signal to him that the lesson on poisons is worth taking and he me towards the lessons in different snares. I wonder briefly how we can communicate so well without really knowing each other yet, but then Peeta has always been able to read me and I've learned from our years together. It shouldn't be that surprising.
No one gives us looks, or much attention which is what I'm going for. I don't want to draw the careers attention. The drawback being that the sponsors watching is starting to ignore us.
At one point Peeta had drifted towards the painting station, drawing the onlookers to his talent in painting. I was glad for the attention they gave him, but it also draw the attention of Marvel. I took comfort that he only scuffed at Peeta and quickly moved on.
I also gained attention when I was at the fire-station. I got the fire burning faster than the others and also used it to make transportable fire-sticks, break rock and make smoke signals. Nothing much, but enough to satisfy a couple of sponsors and game-planners.
That was another thing I found out during the day. I could see which of our audience that was sponsor and which ones was game makers. A fact that gave me comfort, I could predict from their different reaction to other tributes what they found exciting and boring. What they might think they could use and what not.
I manage to control my feelings and small flashback as I meet the different tributes throughout the day, drilling my nails into my thigh when I needed extra focus. I made it progress, the only real slip being when Glimmer was pointing and arrow at me and laughing. The look on her face made me lose it. The one thing preventing me from making a scene was the appearance of a guard in front of Glimmer, telling her to stand down. Peeta was forced to collect me and move me out of the way. I couldn't move for over an hour. He didn't leave me but neither did he comfort me, instead he sat in front of me and practiced tying knots.
Thankfully I managed to control my emotions in the end and could continue training. I was not the only one that had an episode over the day thankfully, everyone's nerves where high strung at the end of the day. We were all grateful when our handler came to collect us.
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Chapter 16
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After we showered Peeta and I join the others in the living room. Cinna and Portia being there to plan the days to come with Haymitch and Effie. They only had a two more days to make us unforgettable and was going over strategies. We don't join them in the talk, but sit at the table and eat. Trying to follow as the prep-team jumps from one idea to the next.
Peeta don't ask me what my attack was all about, nor does he tell on me. However it is clear by the looks he gives me that he's curious.
"Have you seen the roof yet?" Peeta asks from the blue, interrupting Effie and silencing the talk. Everyone looks at us and I could kick him for the unwanted attention.
"No, why?" I force myself to say calmly, lying through my teeth.
"Portia told me about it before, she said that you can see the whole city without anything blocking you." Peeta explains.
"Yes, it is a beauty. You must see it Katniss. It takes your breath away." Portia tells me. From the looks on the others they want us away from the room. I give a strained smile and get up.
"Well lets go then." I say and let Peeta lead the way to the elevator and soon we are traveling the short distant to the roof.
When we get out we stop dead in our tracks. I can feel a blush coming on. We are not alone on the roof. Cato is also there, together with Glimmer. They are kissing. On the ledge. Just a few meter in front of us. Peeta and I look at each other and then we turn around and get back into the elevator. We don't speak until the doors are shut.
"Well, that was unexpected." I finally manage to say. Peeta nods. Then we both look awkwardly at each other. Son I can see Peeta's shoulder trembling and realize that he is holding back laughter. My first instinct is to punch him on the arm and I gladly do.
"Stop laughing." I demand.
"Can't help it, didn't see that coming." Peeta says as he laughs. I roll my eyes at him and huff.
"Well, what are we going to do now? They wanted us away from the room." I ask him.
"We could go to the training room. We are allowed there any hour of the day. We really don't have that many options." Is Peeta's answer. I give a sigh and nod my head. We press the bottom for the lower level and watch the different floors pass by as we go down.
The feeling of being so high up is actually quite comfortable and I enjoy it for the few seconds it lasts. As the doors pling we move into the facility, aimlessly looking around for something to do.
"We're not really dressed for this are we?" Peeta says as he looks at his loose fitted sweat-pants and thin shirt. I have to agree with him as the cold air makes my skin nots. My top and similar pants being too thin to give any warmth.
"We make do. Good practice I suppose."
We are not completely alone in the room, the night guard is posted along the wall. Keeping a watchful eye on us.
"We could train making fire, you were better at it than me." At those words I smile. It's a good plan actually. For over an hour we practice making fire out of different materials, the flames helping us to stay warm. But soon enough I'm bored and want to do something else.
As I walk around the area I find bean-bags in a box. I don't know what they could be used for but I get an idea as I weight one of them in my hands. But I need permission first.
I slowly walk over to a guard. Making it clear I don't want trouble. The guard steps away from its post and raises the face shield.
"What is your question twelve?" He demands in a harsh tone.
"I'm I allowed to use this in a game with another tribute?" I answer, direct to the point.
"I will inquire." He steps away and contacting someone before waiting on a reply. After a few seconds he get an answer and before long he looks back at me.
"No harmful intent. No body contact and only on the floor-mattresses. Is that clear." He tells me. I only nod before moving back towards Peeta.
"What was that?" is the first thing he asks me.
"I needed permission to play a game." I say as I walk us over to the mattresses in question. Three avoxes enters the room and moves several boxes with bean-bags over to the area.
"What game?" Peeta asks and I smirk in reply as I raises the first bag.
"This." I shout before hitting him in the face and running away. He looks dumfounded but soon he gets a glint in his eyes and scoop up several bags. The game is on and we give as good as we get, it is much more fun than I expected and we lose track of time.
It isn't until a bag hits be from above that I take in the outside world again. I look up and see Rue above me. She has several bag in her arms and are aiming them at me and Peeta.
"Don't you dare..." Peeta starts before Rue hits him right on the head, making me laugh at the look on his face. The game starts up again, but this time with three players. It's not until Rues handler comes to collect her that we stop, all three exhausted and on a much happier mood than we started with.
"Thanks for letting me play." Rue says before disappearing into her elevator. Her words makes me sober up and I look at the closed door before me. I give Peeta a bitter smile when he touch my shoulder, asking me if I want to head up. I only nod in reply.
We don't speak as we enter our floor. It is quiet, everyone is in their room. We look at each other and silently agree to sleep together again. Peeta leaves me for a short time to change cloths while I quickly wash up.
We snuggle down with less awkwardness this time and it only takes a few minutes before Peeta is asleep. I follow.
The entire night is plagued by nightmares of Rue's death. Peeta being forced to wake and comfort me more than once. Me tears staining his shirt. I'm beyond grateful for his support.
...
Its early morning and I wake from another nightmare, this time without screaming. Peeta is fast asleep next to me and I don't have the heart to wake him. I sneak out of the bed and the room, walking around without purpose in the dining area.
I soon yearn for fresh air and decide to go up to the roof. I take the stairs. The wind is hard and unforgiving as I open the door. The bitter cold of the morning biting me and I almost wish I had taken a thicker sweater before coming here.
The view is breathtaking, the darkness still lays heavily over the city, making every turned on light look like a field of fireflies. The sight is wondrous. It is also a sign of how much power the capitol has. In the other districts electricity is seen as a luxury, here as given. No citizen has to worry if they are going to have food, warmth or light for the night. I can feel old bitter emotion stirring at the thought and try to ignore them.
For the rest of the night I walk the false gardens, trying to fight of the breakdown that are looming over me. I can't allow myself to be that weak, not now. What brings me back from the edge of despair is the sound of moaning. It penetrates my world and before I think I follow the sound to its origin.
Behind a couple of red bushes are two tributes in the throes of passion. They do not see me, but I see everything of them. I hurry away as silent as I can be, blushing heavily as I walk to the other end of the roof. I stand at the ledge and watch the city awake, trying to ignore any sound I hear.
I guess everyone finds their way of coping with the trials to come, I'm almost glad that the pair has found each other for the short time they have left. Everyone deserves a piece of happiness and comfort.
When the first sunlight hits me I finally am ready to face the day. I walk back to my room and sit next to Peeta, reading some survival- manuals on a pad.
…
As Effie enters the living room that morning she happily tells us about her triumphs last evening. We were the talk of the city, making Effie the most sought out handler this year. Us standing united during the concretion had made the masses curious, they wanted to know everything about us. She was overjoyed by the attention and had worked hard to get us as many sponsors as she could.
"At least one or two I gained you two last night."
The only thing Effie wanted now was for me to seem a bit more open and approachable, she was certain that if I tried to be warmer she could make me into a true heroine. Peeta being a favorite from the start, but perhaps needed a bit more edge to himself. I just look at her. It is Haymitch, as he joins us that breaks the silence. He tells Effie that the only chance for me to be warm is if he put me on fire.
Luckily Peeta stops me from giving Haymitch from a fist to the face; "It wouldn't be a good start of the morning if you assaulted your handler" he told me in a hushed voice.
We continued to eat our breakfast together, talking about different thing we learned the previous day. Haymitch commenting what would be most useful, while Effie tried to resist the cupcakes.
…
After breakfast was over and we had been dressed in our training uniforms Effie took us down to the training-ground. She hardly stayed a second to say goodbye, clearly uncomfortable with the military feel to the place.
Peeta indicated that he wanted to start the second day by learning about shelter. An idea that I almost passed in order to focus on weapons training, wanting a chance to pummel something. But at his pleading look I relented and we both headed for the equipment area. Our instructor was an older man with a sleep-inducing voice. The knowledge he gave was valuable, but he was so boring that Peeta relented after an hour.
The game makers as well as sponsors seem to be a bit more active today as well, making me nervous. They were walking on the pathways above us, looking down at different tributes and talking amongst themselves. It affected more people than just me. Many of the smaller kids tried finding ways to get noticed, unfortunately no career would have it. Accident happen frequently over the day as a sponsor or two looked two long on any tribute from five and down. I was spared mostly because of the frown many of the onlookers gave me.
The good thing about the day was Peeta. He was getting attention from more than just the sponsors. His natural curiosity and goodness was gaining him followers; they youngsters followed him as he walked from station to station. Talking amiably amongst each other. By lunch Peeta had manage to befriend almost all tributes. Even the careers had taken time to talk to him.
I'm amazed by his talent. I have a hard time not insulting anyone by just looking at them, but Peeta just have to smile and everyone likes him. I sometime believe that he is a mutt. No one is that good.
After lunch we and company try the combat-section. I focusing mostly on hand to hand, where the smaller target can disable the bigger. For most part I have to dumb down the knowledge. If I were to use my military-schooling from district thirteen I would bring hell down on twelve. Snow would believe that a rebellion is brewing and he would bomb us just on the off chance.
Peeta focus on combat with weapons. It is revealed that he can handle a sword relative good. He has the grace, strength and movements for the broadswords and he lingers the longest at that station. He fails at the knife-section, and breaks the string at the bow. He fails at terrain when he falls out of the nets, stumbles over "rocks", breaks "branches" on the ground and knocks his head on beams. I try to help him without getting notice, but Peeta has no skill for terrain.
The tuff bit comes in the afternoon. Most of us are at the climbing wall, learning different ways to climb and find sturdy material. It is at this Rue shines. She scurries up the wall quicker than anyone, but are a bit slower on the rope. She impresses the instructor and I'm glad for her. Unfortunately she's done the fastest so she has gravitated towards me over the past hour. I don't want to interact with Rue; for me and Peeta to survive she must die. It would be better if she stayed far away from me. She damaging me calm.
She stands behind a column a few meter away, half hidden. She is twelve years old but look no more than ten. Half-starved and short. Her eyes are big and innocent, you can get lost in their forest-brown depts. Her hair is big, bushy and wild; it looks like a wildflower that has been through a storm. Her skin is brown, almost glowing golden in the fluorescent-light. She has a grace to her that makes me think of birds in flight.
Like my sister Rue is named after a flower; the common rue, a flower with blue, purple or yellow petals. Sometimes it looks like a cat with yellowish whiskers. I remember her mom telling me that she had chosen the name for its strong perseverance, some can live for hundreds of years.
The thought hurts.
"She has been for a while." Peeta says when he is close enough.
"Perhaps she's following you." I say in an off manner. Keeping up our charade.
"I'm sorry Kattail but you seem to have inquired a friend."
I fake a horrified look at Peeta. "Wash out that mouth with soap." He laugh as he moves away. His been invited by Cato to train spears together. The thought sickens me but I let him go without protest.
I continue to ignore Rue for the remaining of the day. We only interact with each other at one points, but that over so fast that I hardly noticed it. When Effie comes to collect us for support I'm beyond grateful, I even give her a smile in thanks before entering the elevator.
On the way up Effie congratulates Peeta for his successes during the day. The game makers had let it slip that he was making friends and impressing the instructors. Making the public long for him more than ever. I have been a bit more reserved much to her aggravation, but what the makers have let slipped has still brought me some attention to her joy and comfort.
Overall we are not amongst the best nor are we amongst the worst when the days ends. A fact that I am content with. It is better to be in the middle, having security of longer survival with possibilities to surprise.