Dath Zachariah- District Four (17)
I didn't think they'd really pick me. There were at least a few students at the Academy who were better than I was. Truth be told, I suspected there were two reasons I got picked. The first was that the best Academy student was seventeen and they wanted to let him have another year of training just to be sure. The second was that I might possibly have a lot of girlfriends, each of which wanted to let me have the chance they thought I wanted so much.
The competition was different this year. Usually it was us Careers and a bunch of scared kids. We were the only ones who actively wanted to kill. This time, there were a lot of outliers looking for a fight. They wouldn't all be scared of us. Some of them were so brutal they would seek us out. We had the training and all, but things happened. I could die. This wasn't just a happy-go-lucky outing. I could die before I was eighteen years old.
Careers were supposed to go crazy at the Bloodbath, but I held back. I'd never told anyone, but my priority was survival, not performance. Academy students weren't supposed to have any weaknesses, but I couldn't lie to myself. I was scared. I was scared I would die, and I didn't want to take any risks. All I did was take my weapon and go. I watched the carnage over my shoulder as I went. Eight Tributes died in the first ten minutes of the Games. Most of them didn't bother me, but I was sorry to see Nairobi go. She was such a pretty girl. I flirted with her a little in the Capitol and even asked if she would ally with me, but she didn't trust me. I wouldn't trust me either.
The Games turned into a battle of attrition more than anything else. There was no food and no water anywhere. It came down to who had sponsors. As soon as I started looking for water, a bottle floated down from the sky. Aquamarine says hi, the note said. When I was finished with that one, another one took its place. Thalassa sends her regards. I had more ladies than Ten had cows. I could have lived the rest of my life in the Arena, or at least until I got old and ugly.
When Mist attacked, I felt somehow guilty. She came at me without any fear, like she didn't even know she could die. It was over so quick I didn't even have time to get scared. As she lay bleeding, she kept pleading with some invisible person. I hadn't won a battle. I'd killed a mad dog. I didn't even stay around to make sure she was dead. I wanted nothing to do with her.
Every time I got a sponsor gift, I had to put on a big show. I had to thank the girl and flash a big smile and promise I'd make it worth her while. I took off my shirt once because it was hot, and right away two parachutes came down. I enjoyed the attention, but sometimes I felt like a piece of meat. This wasn't a fun party for me. I depended on their gifts to stay alive, and it bothered me to think they might stop sending them just because they got bored of me.
When it was just me and Eltara, she wasn't as easy as Mist. She was as offensive and I was defensive. It was all I could do just to stay alive. Then she slipped past my guard and stabbed me, barely missing my heart. I started to panic, flailing wildly and attacking with strength I didn't know I had. I knew I only had minutes left. If I didn't kill her, I would die. I couldn't afford to be defensive anymore. I more hacked her to death than killed her neatly. I might have been the Victor, but nobody in Four was going to be impressed. I was a live dog, but all I cared about was that I was alive.