Katniss:
The way back to our room is silent. I don't even notice the District 1 tributes glaring at us as they too, walk to there rooms, until Haymitch rushes us quickly to our dorm. The gold plaque on the door reads 12, and we proceed in. Cinna's already there, drinking some sort of beverage. He sets it down on the coaster and excuses himself and walks into the costume room. Peeta and I both watch as he closes the door behind him.
"Sit down Katniss, and Cinna will get your training uniforms. Are you hungry?" Effie walks over to the fridge and pulls out a carton of orange juice. I have a headache and a sore throat from the chariot ride, so I comply. Not to mention that the angry boy from 2 is after me. But I gladly take the glass from Effie and swallow it in one gulp. Peeta politely refuses the offer, but Effie insists he drinks something. When she turns her back to get something from the drawer, Peeta hands it to me instantly, and I drink it fast, but quickly stop when Effie turns around. She raises an eyebrow and makes her way over in her heels, and Haymitch has to catch her from falling over. She stumbles a little and holds onto the coffee table for support.
"Peeta, you know you need to drink something. You hardly consumed anything all day!" There is still about a fourth of the juice still left in the cup, and she holds it up to him expectantly, nudging the glass to his arm. No sooner then later he knocks it out of her hands. It spills all over the almond plush carpeting, and Effie screams. Oddly enough I laugh at this. The look on her face is quite horrid and before I know it I'm doubling over in laughter while Peeta and Effie stare at me, baffled.
Quickly going over to get the mop, Peeta sees this as a distraction and leaves to go to his room. I follow him, knowing that my presence there won't do any good either.
Peeta notices me following him and I stop immediately. I do not want to look desperate in front of this boy I hardly know, let alone his talents in this arena. I remember him from around the town, lugging the bags of flour and bread that I always stopped to stare hungrily at. His strength could easily topple over me and assume my death. I quickly open my door and proceed in, but he stops me.
"The Careers are going to team up against us, Katniss, I just know it." his eyes seem to be dilating, but I can't tell if it's because of fear or confusion. Probably both, actually. I agree with his statement but don't show any sign of it. My face and mind have just gone blank. I wonder if it's just because of how his words have taken me aback, or if I just can't think of anything to say. Peeta gives me a small nudge with his hand, and when I feel his fingers caress my skin, I quickly pull away and form my lips in a scowl.
Why am I so hostile to people? That I don't have an answer to, and I don't know if it's because of trust or just in general. I don't confide in anyone really but the only exception would be Gale. He's the only person I can have a conversation with without feeling different, if that makes sense. But even though I barely know Peeta, I can see the disdainful expression on his face, and it makes me realize that if I went any sort of sympathy from the Capitol, I must be nice to even people.
I decide to at least acknowledge the fact that he said something. I give a curt nod. "I know." I'm cursing myself for ending it on such a short notice, because Peeta looks at me like there's more.
"We just have to play it safe. Stay out of there way and hopefully, they will stay out of ours." I actually don't want to do that, to step up another level and prove that I can beat a Career. I can't be afraid or weak in the Games. Even perhaps when I'm starving to death and in desperate search of food and water, I can't give up and sulk until my death. I promised Prim I would win these games. I promised her I would come out alive.
I promised her I wouldn't give up.
Thankfully Peeta ends the conversation short and heads to his room. I feel a little pity for him considering I barely said anything, but I'm thinking that there wouldn't be anything else that I could say. I'm still trying to contemplate whether or not I should converse better with him when I feel two hands spin me gently around and I'm face to face with Cinna.
"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you at the moment but Effie wanted me to show you your training uniforms. Let's have a look, shall we?" Cinna motions me to come follow him into his room.
It looks identical to mine, even the bed sheets and the pillow. I'm wondering if maybe the Capitol isn't as genuine as it seems, that some of the stuff seems fake and secretive. But then I realize that through my eyes everything in the Capitol is fake.
It doesn't matter about how wealthy they are, they're fake. The people are fake, betting on our lives and then cheering for us everywhere we make an appearance. The Hunger Games is fake, the idea that one could get pleasure out of murder is sickening. But I simply dismiss the thought of being in the arena and focus on Cinna's words.
"The sleeves are a little snug, but they should fit pretty comfortably." Cinna puts the top and the pants over my head and I can easily fit into both of them. He was right; the sleeves are a little tight, but it doesn't matter to me at all. I notice my district number etched in fabric near my shoulders. I like it. I'm thinking that it will show the Gamemakers clearly that I am not afraid to back down.
I take off the jacket and show Cinna my approval. It's an evident sign that neither of us wants to talk about the actual training center and the tributes, so I thank Cinna, and excuse myself to my room.
...
Proceeding to my room is difficult because I feel a small voice in my brain telling me stop. I do, but to take everything all in for a moment, from the beginning when Prim was reaped.
I volunteered to save Prim.
I told her I would try to win.
District 2.
District 2...
I'm almost certain that those two want to kill me first thing when I get into the arena. It wouldn't surprise me if they did, really. Me glaring back at them didn't help the situation get any better. But I know certainly being just another pawn in the Games is going to make my death unforgettable. I think back to the night when Peeta and I were perched up on the rooftop, our conversation abiding in my mind. I didn't exactly comprehend what he meant when he said those words, but I know I kept trying to make sense of them.
"I keep wishing to think of a way they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games."
I know exactly what he indicates by that. But I just can't seem to find a way to perceive that, to actually make my death unforgettable. I wonder if Peeta has found an idea. But then I doubt it because it wouldn't make sense to think of a way to die when something abrupt could happen. I hear someone coming down the hall and I'm really not in the mood to talk. I'm wondering if it's Cinna, but I see his door close just then. Quietly slipping in the opening of the door, I close it fast and tight.
I hear the footsteps click down the corridor and it gradually fades away. Probably Effie. I can faintly hear her voice as she proceeds toward Peeta's room followed by a loud slam that makes me almost jump.
I wonder if Peeta is doing alright. It must be a lot of stress and work to cope with all of this. Although the same has happened to me, I can manage it better considering my life at home. I've starved. I've seen people die. My father passed away. All of that doesn't come close to this. I mean, sure the Hunger Games is not a typical hotspot to go as one might say, but I know I've been through a heck of a lot to give me at least the smallest advantage to winning. And although both Peeta and I both lead hard lives considering we're both from district 12, Peeta has it easy in some ways. He never has to worry about starvation.
It's getting quite late, so I get changed into the flimsy nightgown that's sitting on the dresser. It feels loose so I wrap it around my body and then I collapse on the bed. It takes a moment to come to my senses before I know what's happening. I'm exhausted. Drowsiness has swept over me, and I can't fight anymore. I long to see my family again and before I know it I'm overcome with a whole mix of emotions. Each comes and goes for about three seconds and I'm shuddering afterwards, too terrified to speak.
I wonder if it's because of nerves of entering the Games or I'm just overwhelmed by all this chaos that has been happening. I rule out the nerves idea because that almost undoubtedly happens to everyone the night before the games.
"Right before the Games."
...
I actually wrote this a while ago and I haven't really gone over it yet. I'm really NOT happy with this chapter, it was too rushed and I didn't like the wording of it. But please, feedback is always accepted. Cato's POV next chapter. Also, chapters are expected to get lengthier, I'm hoping for 3000-6000+ range.
A/N: 1: I also want to say I have gotten a tumblr, so all of you who are reading this can go check me out :) The URL is in my bio.
2: I'm hoping to expand this story into a good length novel, but depending on the feedback I receive it's a question or not because I may be hesitant. Leave me a review please with your thoughts! Love ya! :)