Thank you guys so much for the comments and support. I hope you will enjoy this chapter. The next one is going to be in the arena.
The night was spent watching older versions of the Games with a large plate of meat at my side (Nutrition is important, I don't know when I am going to eat again, so every gram counts.). Most of them are transmitted from time to time in television for those in the Capitol who are anxious for the next season of this horror show. And they are broadcast to the districts as well, but most of us do not watch the old ones, only the one we are forced every year. The only exception is the school that for some reason, I am not sure if it is cruelty of the teachers or an order from the Capitol, the games are shown all the time. It's awful watching kids your age kills and get killed over and over, it's worst every time we recognize someone. Seeing Sunshine's sister being slaughter by Gloss or Elijah closing his eyes before stepping outside of the disc before time, so it would be quick, gives me nightmares often when I was home.
The dark part of me asks that if I survive, would I miss the days my nightmares were because of them?
Anyway, I watch them the whole night. I see how Haymitch Abernathy survive in the Second Quarter Quell, I see how Beetee Latier electrocute six people at the same time, I see how Cecelia from 8 sliced her opponents with a katana. Brilliant, but I can't copy that. I prefer die quickly than let my entire family die, I don't know a lot about electricity outside of physics class a life time ago, and again, I am not skilled with a sword, certainly not enough to beat Aurelian.
During these 65 previous games there were a lot of strategies, great one and terrible ones. I could see people dying because they did not consider hypothermia, or surviving because they could last longer without food. There was even one that survive because notice the animal trails and went in the opposite direction breaking an alliance, the tributes that keep going died because of a mutt.
But in the end, even after hours I couldn't still figure out a perfect solution. Well, I guess that if a perfect one exists, the mentors would have already figured out. Most of the Games showed me that, in the end, is based on instincts and luck.
The odds need to be in your favor.
I was reaped even thought there was only one piece of paper with my name.
My best guess is that the arena is going to be some type of forest. There weren't plants from extreme cold or hot weather in the station at the game center. It shouldn't be an open field because this makes the game end fast which mean last amusement for the capitolians, so we need a place to hide, caves could do it, but I doubt, they don't use an underground system for years and I guess there is a reason. Maybe it makes hard to see? I don't know.
Before I realize the sun start to rise.
I decide to take a final shower. Probably the longest I ever took, but this is going to be my last in quite long time, in the best scenario, in the worst… I deserve an even longer. But I decided against the perfume. Back in the before I use to choose which shampoo and conditioner I was going to use based on the smell, everyone ended up smelling like a different kind of flower or spice, in my district only the really wealth has such luxuries, my family certainly is not one of them. Weird how things like this trigger my memories, the games are making me more nostalgic than usual. Regardless, a smell could give up your location, better not use it.
Soon after, Nix arrives to take me to the hovercraft. I don't see Lyanna or Noah, neither Lark. And I don't ask. My mentors are hopefully trying to get sponsors and my district partner… next time that we meet we will be adversaries where only one is coming out alive and I knew what was going to be Lark's choice.
If I wasn't me, I mean reincarnate and painfully realistic, we could had been allies. But I don't like this. Getting attached to someone that is going to die or worst try to kill you is too much. I may be prepared to play this Game, but for the longer I can hold it is going to be on my own terms.
In the hovercraft there is half of the tributes, the other half is going to be transported by another one. I can see the girl from 5 shaking her leg, the boy from 8 murmuring something I can't understand. Augusta is more baring her teeth than smiling, probably to imitate her mentor, Enobaria that won a few years ago, the victor scares me, but this girl trying to copy her looks less threatening than Aurelian that is by her side only smirking, but I can see the blood thirst in his eyes.
Some days ago, I remember feeling sorry for the careers and how brain washed they were. Now I realize I made a mistake. Most of the careers are brain washed. Aurelian is the type of person that would commit homicide and laugh even in the world of before. He may be a child, but in this world that incentives violence he already is a monster.
I am not sure how long it took to arrive in the arena. The time in the presence of my probable future assassin or victim makes the time go slower than it should. And soon I am rushed to my launching room. Or how we use to call it back home, stockyard. It indeed remembers the real thing where the cattle wait for being slaughter, normally destiny to the Capitol.
There isn't much on it. A table with a couple of chairs, a little bit of food and water on top, the only other door in the room is a restroom. I refuse to look to the platform that is going to take me to my personal hell.
I am drinking and eating when Nix arrives bringing me my clothes.
We don't talk. It is no longer time for encouraging speech or anything like this. She just handles me package so I can look and take a decision for myself.
This year clothes are a light pant and a simple t-shirt, both made with breathable materials and in earthy colors, good for disguise. On top is a light jacket. Made more to stop the wind than to actually warm someone up. The arena is not going to be frozen. This is good. I cannot deal with cold, not so extreme. It is going to be something with a nice weather. At least if they don't want us to die from natural causes.
Nix ties my hair in two pigtails. Childlike. I almost want to scorn, but it keeps the hair away from my face and you never know when you are going to need another elastic. I can cut and tie both together if I need a tourniquet.
I had just finish stretching when the mechanical voice told me to position myself. It is time. The last few days seemed much longer than it actually was. My life in the farm seems as distant as Before. But now is the time.
Nix nods at me.
And I nod back, trying to look brave and hide the fact that my hands are shaking.
"Make it white. Like an angel." I say as a last thinking. And I hope my stylist understood what I meant because my plate is already rising and soon the sun is blinding me.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the 65th Hunger Games!"