Cerise Dupin- District Eight female
For the first time in years- my whole life, when I really thought about it- I was alone. No parents, no friends, and no boyfriend. I was my own person and I was entirely able to live on my own, but it very much was different. When something made me smile, I would think of who I wanted to tell and share it with, and no one was there. There would be no one with me when I curled up in a makeshift shelter in a desolate Arena. Everything in my life was me. I didn't know if I was enough to fill up an entire life.
Training was the best thing to occupy my mind. I still got sad whenever Fryderyk and I caught sight of each other across the room, but I felt free, too. I could do what I wanted whenever I wanted. I didn't have to make plans around anyone else's schedule. I'd never in the slightest resented Fryderyk for his illness, but I got a delirious joy out of running as far as I wanted as hard as I wanted on the track and not having to stop until I was out of breath, not him. It wasn't as good as being with him, but it was a good I wouldn't have had otherwise.
I probably shouldn't have been staring. It was just- and I'm not saying it's bad or something anyone should be ashamed of- but if you wear an outfit like that, you may not be doing it for anyone else, but you know you're going to get looked at. Where I came from, what Camille was wearing was something "well-bred" people would frown at. "Well-bred" people would say it was something you only wore if you were part of a profession people had half a dozen euphemisms for so they could pretend they didn't know the real word. But that was nothing but shallow, classist pomposity. Camille looked really cool, and I kept peeking to get another look.
Camille turned her gaze on me, her black-lined eyes staring like an owl. "Did I grow a third eye?" she asked
Ahh! Busted! I thought, and my face reflected it. "I just think it looks really cool. Does it mean anything?"
Camille hunched her shoulders and held her hands in front of her in a dramatic pose. "It's for the downtrodden and misunderstood who rebel against conformist standards and the rigidity of society. But actually that's all baloney. I'm just a poor little rich girl, to be honest."
"Me too, actually," I said.
"Makes you feel kind of bad, doesn't it? Getting all this special treatment and you know you didn't earn it," Camille said.
"Exactly!" I said. "I want to make a difference somehow."
"Everyone does, I guess. I sure dress different enough," Camille said. "Hey, you want to come meet my allies?"
"I think I do," I said.
Pik Reynolds- District Eleven male
I should have just gone for it. I knew I needed allies, but by the time I finished scoping everyone out, everyone I wanted to ally with was already taken. Maybe it was because I was scared of change. I knew I needed to make new friendships and make them solid before we went into the Arena, but it was hard to put myself out there, because I already was out there. I was in a new city when I'd never traveled more than ten miles in any direction from the spot where I was born. Everything was artificial and new here instead of the natural seasonal sameness of Eleven. And so I ended up lurking around the edges of the training room, watching allies dwindle away. By the time I got out of my funk about the only ones left were Andrea, Jay, Harper, Rigel, Angus, and my District partner 'Switch'.
What did I want in an ally? Someone strong enough to fight but slow enough that I could outrun them. Someone similar to my skill level- high enough to be useful but not high enough that they would decide to get rid of me. Someone I could beat in a fight but could fight with me against others.
Andrea was an option. She was pretty small, though. I wasn't sure she'd be able to fend off many of the Tributes. Jay was just plain too young. He wasn't the youngest here, but he just felt young somehow. It was probably his innocent look. I didn't think he'd last past the Bloodbath. Harper was a no, duh. Angus seemed like a really nice guy. He was always smiling, and I'd seen him get Siobhan a box of batteries off a shelf she couldn't reach. Rigel was strictly a loner. Rachel? Maybe, but I didn't think she'd say yes. Well, if both of her would, anyway.
Andrea, Angus, or Rachel. A decision that could save my life or end it.
Angus. There, done.
Angus was the one that lingered at the front of my mind. I wasn't one to hem and haw and agonize over every element of a decision. I preferred to just make it and commit. Maybe not the best strategy in this situation, but there really wasn't any knowing what was best. I didn't know the Arena or how any of them acted when their lives were on the line. All I had were first impressions and gut feelings, and both of those led me to Angus.
Andrea D'Amour- District Three female
Wiress had the strangest aura I'd ever encountered. Not like those touchy-feely color halos people claim they can see. She just had this nearly physical demeanor of strangeness and difference that everyone could sense even though there was nothing to see or touch. She didn't stand right. She didn't look at things right. She didn't talk right. I'd tried to make conversation with her half a dozen times. With all my charm and all my people-reading skills, I'd managed to get from a distracted glance to a few words and a smile. While we were halfheartedly practicing table manners in the Three lounge, I made another move.
"Beetee says you're a genius," I said. I hoped she would elaborate, or at least respond.
Wiress set down her fork. Her face got longer and the hollows under her eyes got sharper.
"I was once," she said.
"What does that mean?" I asked. I had a sudden flash of intuition. I'd seen the flash of orange some mornings when I came out earlier than Wiress noticed and she hadn't put away the pill bottle yet. It wasn't morphling, so I'd thought nothing of it. But it wasn't nothing at all.
"That's all I ever was," Wiress said. "All my points went into intelligence. There was nothing left for anything else. It didn't bother me. I liked what I was. But what do you do? What do you do when your mind dies inside you?"
"What?" I asked. I'd never heard her say so many words at once.
"We're all afraid of when we get old and our minds go. What do you do when it starts when you're thirty?" Wiress said.
Early-onset dementia. I wasn't a doctor like my fathers, but I did live with them. I knew plenty about plenty of sicknesses, even ones outside my hopeful future in obstetrics. Early-onset dementia was one of the cruelest things the universe could do to anyone. We had medication now that drastically slowed the progress, but we'd never really cure any neurological problem. Humans brains were paradoxically so complex they couldn't completely understand themselves.
I studied Wiress to determine what would help her. It was obvious she valued her intelligence- not necessarily out of ego, but because it was the core of her personality. She was dignified enough to not tell most people and resilient enough to keep living. What she needed was what most people needed: a little validation.
"You made a firearm, right? That was awesome," I said.
She smiled softly. "I'm still the only one," she said.
"And you're still smart. You take medication. These days we can slow it down practically for a whole lifetime."
"I feel it," she said. "Little holes in my mind. I'm still sharp enough to feel every one of them."
"But the more you use it, the longer it takes," I said. "My parents told me that. They're doctors. They say if you exercise your brain it keeps it strong."
"Crosswords... ciphers... equations. I do them every day," Wiress said.
"Do what you did before," I said. "Win the Hunger Games. Help me win it. Teaching is the best way to learn. Teach me," I said.
For the first time, I saw light in Wiress' face.
