Emmett Lightway, 16, District Three Male
"Nine!"
I raise my eyebrows in surprise as the face of the girl from One flashes onto the screen, her green eyes almost staring accusingly at me as the nine flashes behind her. Then the headshot vanishes, leaving only the two women on the screen to continue recapping the scores. Hallie probably thinks that it's rather contrived to pretend to be excited over these scores that will literally do nothing to help or harm us in the Games, but it does give one a small boost of excitement. It almost feels, well, relieving to know that your score is better than other tributes. Perhaps it isn't so idiotic to have scores after all. They affect a tribute's mindset before the games, for better or worse, and that outlook on your survival will be everything in the Games. Pessimists never survive the bloodbath.
"Ten!"
I gasp at the score, followed quickly by a murmur of approval from Hallie. She hadn't approved of any of the other scores, only slowly nodding and scribbling down her predictions of who would be killers and who'd die in the bloodbath, but this score must have brought her out of her calculating shell. It's nice to see another part of Hallie other than the genius. It gets rather unnerving to see a twelve-year-old girl play with lives as calmly as a game of chess.
"Nine!"
I gasp once more, watching the blissful face of the girl from Two, Alexis, float onto the screen. What was with these high scores from One and Two? First they had managed to get a four out of the boy from One, and now they were in the nines and tens! The bloodbath was going to be brutal. There was close to no way I could manage to survive with these⦠killers in there. My only hope was to run. Run, and never look back.
"Three!" I nod, watching my score pop onto the screen. Hallie makes a strangled sound of what suspiciously sounded like laughter behind me before calmly scribbling down a placement for me, and I shudder. I was just another number to her, just another person to die off in the bloodbath. Was her outlook on other humans really so low that she didn't care she was predicting the time of their deaths?
"Five!"
Hallie gives a little sound of delight at her score before sitting down. Our mentor quietly congratulates her, of course; Hallie's had the Capitolite in the palm of her hand ever since the train rides. She hasn't spoken a word to me since we were on the trains, deciding to dote on Hallie like a servant. Did she ever think that Hallie would likely die in the bloodbath? Did our mentor realize that we weren't going to come back home?
"One!"
No. She didn't. But she'd find out soon enough. They'd both find out that the Hunger Games wasn't a game. It was a war.
Adira Hemlock, 17, District Seven Female
"Seven!"
I nod slightly at the score of the girl from Four, she was good with tridents after all, even if she hadn't wanted to show us in the training days. It was pretty sneaky to do something like that to her own allies, but she probably had her own reasons for hiding her skills. After all, at the end of the day, we were all out for ourselves. We wouldn't be saving each other from death if it meant our own. And that was fine by me. Why should I get mad at others when I was guilty of the same thing that they were? I hadn't shared with them how I knew how to make the blade of an ax catch fire. I didn't want to share the skills that I had learned back in the orphanage and with the rest of the lumberjacks with them, and I had no right to create a double standard. I'd even consider it a move of a worthy ally. You knew that they had something good if they had something to hide.
"Two!"
The face of the boy from Five seemed to sneer at me as it fades away onto the screen, and I fought back the urge to shiver. There was something⦠unnerving about the guy, almost as if he was planning my funeral. So be it, then. If I could, I'd get rid of him in the bloodbath.
"Three!"
I could almost hear the whimper from the girl from Five, and I watch her fade away into the screen. Even if she was somehow better than her district partner, which I doubted, she had no self confidence whatsoever. Anyone who hid in the middle of a station when I walked by them was no threat in the bloodbath.
"Two!"
I nodas the nervous boy from Six appears, watching his shifty eyes dart back and forth on the screen. He probably was at a loss of what to do when he didn't have people around him. That was what happened when you lived in a district of millions. You didn't know what it was like to be alone.
"Four!"
The girl from Six seems tough, almost as if she had grown up fighting for her life every day. But she hadn't known what it was like to have no one, she didn't know what it was like to only have yourself to care for you, she didn't know what it was like to be unloved. But I did. And I had survived. And I would do it again. No matter what, I was coming back home, whether they wanted me or not. Adira Hemlock was going to survive the Hunger Games.
"Three!"
Leif nods and smiles bravely, getting a quick pat on the back from Maddie. He had surprisingly bit back his tears and went through training like a man, not even shivering when I talked to him. It was like the Games had matured him. Leif wasn't a child anymore.
"Eleven!"
I hear a huge roar from outside of our window, and I peered down with an incredulous Maddie to see a town square filled to the brim with Capitolites. When they see us peering down, they positively roar, screaming for me, screaming for the volunteer, screaming the number eleven. That was when I realize, with a bit of a jolt, I wasn't just a volunteer anymore. I was an icon.
Ashira Marlstone, 16, District Twelve Female
"Six!"
The boy from Nine appears on the screen, smiling bravely towards the camera, but I pay little attention to him. Why would you bother with both tributes from District Eight getting fours and a six from the district of wheat when someone had managed an eleven? How could I focus on that when someone the same age as me had proven themselves to be almost perfect in the art of maiming, of destroying, of murdering other children?
"Two!"
Corey shows me the drawing he's just made of the girl from Seven, and I gasp at the fire that's so visible in her eyes from just a few strokes of Corey's pencil. Her hair positively shines in the moonlight that he's put her under, and I can almost hear the trees surrounding the volunteer whisper to me. "Corey, you're an amazing drawer. You should definitely become an artist, make things, something to support this talent."
Corey smiles, pointing at the screen. "If I ever win, I want to become a game maker. Imagine making the arena perfectly for the tributes, positioning everything just right? Wouldn't it be wonderful to just make pure beauty for the tributes? There's a garden in the middle of the Seam, you know. I go every day to help prune the flowers and care for them. We have to brush off the coal dust that falls onto the flowers, but it's worth it. It's heartwarming to see something so delicate, so beautiful. Did you say you were from the Seam? You do have the colouring, you know."
I blush nervously and push back my hair, feeling the light brown curls as I looked away from Corey. "Um, well..."
"Six!"
"I'm actually one of the merchant's daughters." There, I said it. At least Corey knew the truth now. He looks at me with confusion, looking at my colouring, my hair, everything about me that just screamed Seam! Seam!
"Five!"
Corey nods slowly and backs slightly away, back towards Pollux. Pollux laughs nastily at the screen as he sees the boy from Ten, throwing a piece of his weird popcorn at the screen, and I shiver slightly. I've been pushed away again. Oh, why can't I ever fit in?
"Two!"
Corey looks down at me, at my hair, at my clothes, then picks up his notebook once more. He starts to doodle quickly, and I turn away once more. He's gone into his mind once more, just like how everyone retreats from me when they realize I'm not one of them. Oh, oh, why can't I just be like the others? Why can't I be normal?
"One!"
The girl from Eleven fades away, and I look drearily out of the window to see the excited Capitolites cheer as the score rings throughout the square. What was so exciting about a one? Didn't they know it just meant that the kid would die? Capitolites could be confusing. But at least they could pick a side. I couldn't even decide if I hated them or not.
"Four!"
Corey laughs at his tousled brown hair on the screen, blending together well with his Seam tones. "They managed to take the worst picture of me that they could, didn't they? At least I'm smiling. I look happy."
"Four!"
I look over at Corey, who pauses in his laughter to stare solemnly at me. Even if we might be divided in class, we were still in the same district. We had something to make us similar. And as the television turns off, we squeeze each other's hands tightly.
Another one in the books! What did you think of all of this angst and sadness and interestingness? Leave a review! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you like it as well, guys! Keep reading, and until the night before the games, TheAmazingJAJ
