Am I still alive? Um, yes. And my conscience won't let me live without finishing this story. :)

Private Sessions

"Even without his hearing, Heath's going to be a threat." One of the Gamemakers spoke, tapping his tablet. "Just look at him with that sword."
Several of the Gamemakers glanced up, enjoying watching Heath skewer the manikin. Gemini rolled her eyes, "It's hardly more than you could expect. He's not that remarkable." She pointed to her chart, "Heath's expectations hover right at an 8. Is he doing better than that?"

Heath was now sparring. He jumped, parried, and swung at the trainer. One of the Gamemakers noted, "He's good at attacking, but leaves himself wide open. Pretty vulnerable."

"He doesn't exceed my expectations." Another Gamemaker commented. "Does that give him a lower score?"

Gemini's lips pursed together, noting the tributes fury. He snarled at the trainer, his knuckles white as they gripped his weapon. His anger was unsettling, and Gemini hadn't felt an instant dislike towards a tribute in years. She bit on the thought, before speaking to her fellow Gamemakers, "We should reduce his score, perhaps a 7."

The Gamemakers didn't argue, and Gemini hit the buzzer. Heath pulled up short, his forehead glistening with sweat. The trainer touched the boy's back, probably intending to encourage the kid. Gemini rolled her eyes as Heath stiffened, sneering at the trainer to leave him alone. She pressed her fingers to her temple, rubbing at the building headache.

Silk stepped through the training doors, eyes sweeping up the Gamemakers booth. She grinned, cracking her knuckles. A slight bow, "Silk Vermillion, District One."

As she straightened, Silk tossed her hair. She strode to the rows of knives, picking up several. She slipped one up her sleeve, two blades in each hand.

The targets began moving, and Silk attacked. She jumped in between the targets after running out of her blades, pulling them from the canvas to throw. After a few minutes, it was a bit boring.
Silk stepped away from the daggers, glancing up at the Gamemakers. "I know Apple Seeds are poisonous, but I need a ton of apples to kill anyone. And tomato and potato leaves are deadly. So I can kill anyone I want."

Silk folded her arms as she finished, waiting. One of the Gamemakers glanced at Gemini, before speaking. "If that's all, you're dismissed."

Gemini shrugged, watching Silk swagger away. "If I had a gold piece for every knife I've seen these upper district girls hurl, I'd be richer than Medes."

One of her coworker's brow furrowed, "Medes? That's my cousin's name. He's not very rich."

She suppressed a snort, "The name comes from ancient mythology."
"Really?" The man leaned forward, fingering an olive, "What's the story?"

The boy from District Two was walking in, "If you didn't pay attention in school, hire a tutor." Gemini snapped, standing to get a glass of water.

The last tribute from 3 was stepping from the waiting room when Bjorn stood up from the benches, knowing his turn was next. He stepped next to Blair, her focus on her nails. He leaned over, voice dropping to a whisper, "I think the guy from Six is baiting his partner."

Her chin jerked up, voice a trifle loud, "What?"

His brows furrowed, his words raised "That's why you're not in the pack. You can't take a hint," he whispered again, "I was whispering about the guy from Six."

She glanced at the tribute, remembering his name – Maxwell. His arm was draped around his district partner, lips hovering at her ear. "They're a couple."

Bjorn grinned, "I think not." He tapped Blair's knees. "He's using her; he'll kill her the moment the gong sounds."

Blair blinked, shaking her head, "And you think that's funny?"

He shrugged, "It's entertainment, Blair baby." He pinched her nose, "He knows how to make it."

Bjorn Timmons, District Four. The computerized voice rang above their heads. Bjorn stood, cracking his knuckles. "Going to go get a winning score," He winked at Blair, "Do try to follow my example."

Blair rolled her eyes as he stepped from the room. She mimicked his swanky voice, her voice laced with frustration. Her cheeks reddened as the tributes around her stared. "Sorry," Blair shrugged, "Just a little bit on edge." Several looked down, though a few still stared at her. Blair rubbed her face, eyes darting around the room. She met Roran's eyes. He inclined his head slightly, and she nodded, hoping he would come over.

Roran left his partner, though she had been sitting with her back to him. Blair figured the girl disliked him, probably because he volunteered. He slid onto the seat next to her, "What did he say?"

She leaned against him slightly, their shoulders brushing, "It was just normal, annoying Bjorn stuff." She rolled her eyes, "They should go ahead and crown him victor so the rest of us can live in peace."
Roran grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling, "Let's give him a run for his money."

Her fingers knit together, her teeth grinding. "I'm not going to do that great."

Roran placed his hand on top of hers, "I'll watch out for you." He squeezed, "Do your best, I mean, we all got to start somewhere."

"You volunteered," she looked into his eyes, "Don't you plan on winning?"

He pulled back, taking in a breath. Blair Maddison, District Four, the computerized voice interrupted. "Shoot," Roran breathed, "I'll tell you later."

Blair picked herself up, rubbing her sweaty palms on her pants. "See you, Roran."

Tricolette fidgeted with the bracelet hanging limply on her wrist. Next to her, Nylon twisted a rope strand in his fingers, elbows resting on his knees. "What are you doing, again?"
"Not much," he blew air through his teeth, "Some traps, I'll run through the obstacle course." He glanced at her, "Do the best I can."

She laid a hand on his shoulder, "You're going to do great."

"Thanks." He straightened. Josu had gone into his session a few minutes before, leaving an empty seat beside them. Robin, from Eleven, filled his seat. The three sat next to each other, the room rearranging as tributes left.

Maxwell, from Six, left as his name was called. Immediately Demetri took his seat next to Lucina. His partner, Riley, glared at him. Riley marched over to Lucina, "You're a cheat. I should tell Max you're shagging behind his back."

Lucina's face reddened, "Get out of my business." Demetri shifted uncomfortably, while most of the room tried to ignore the quarrel.

Riley snorted, "My partner is my business. You're shaming my district," She sent a glare at Demetri. "You shouldn't hang out with a slut."

Demetri's ears reddened, "Riley, get a grip. It's not my fault you can't find a boyfriend."

Riley snorted, as Lucina's name was called. She barely budged, blocking Lucina's path to the door. Lucina shoved past her, several tributes chuckling.

"Our turn's coming up," Nylon commented. He pulled viciously at the string, glancing at Robin. "I guess it Tri, You, Josu and me."

"Virginia may join us." Robin inclined her head at Virginia, sitting stiffly next to her district partner. Levi would occasionally talk, but for most of the morning, the two District 10 tributes sat quietly.

Nylon shrugged, "I don't care, as long as everybody knows what to do."

"Don't run into the cornucopia." Tricolette mentioned.

"Find water," Robin continued.

"And avoid the careers." Nylon finished.

Sadira tried to sleep. When her back protested the hard bench, she reminded herself that the arena would probably be harder. She pressed her cheeks against her hands, eyes pressed shut against the shuffling tributes. She was the last one and she wouldn't sit pouting till it was her turn.

But trying to ignore the other tributes couldn't dispel the thoughts of home. If she was home, she might be playing soccer with her brothers. In the evenings, they would gather around to watch the scores posted. Her brothers would cheer the lower districts who reached high scores, and if they thought Sadira wasn't listening, they might curse the Careers.

Sadira knew her father didn't watch the games. He would step into the room, ask about their district tributes and leave. He never placed bets or spoke of the games. When Sadira told him of their district's tribute deaths, her father would place a candle in the window. He lit the candles for the tributes each year. Sometimes it was nearly the end of the games before the candle would be lit. Sometimes, one candle would burn completely out before the other candle was lit. Sometimes they were both lit before the bloodbath was truly done.

Sadira pulled her legs closer to her chest, face turned towards the wall. District Seven's male tribute had just been called.

Her father couldn't light a candle for her. She remembered her sister's pale face, the only member of her family to say goodbye after the reaping. Her brothers had disappeared; they weren't in the crowd during the reaping. If her father was in trouble, Sadira shuddered to think what might have happened to her three cheerful, strong brothers.

But her sister was married to the Head Peacekeeper. Liliana was applying for Capitol citizenship; she'd even been married in the Capitol. Liliana was afraid, but she still came to see Sadira. While the Peacekeepers didn't let any other visitor through, Liliana was allowed two minutes.

"I don't know what kind of mess Dad's made," She pressed Sadira close, kissing her baby sister's forehead, "But I'll try to sort it out with Clive."
Clive, the Head Peacekeeper. Her brother-in-law. She didn't tell Liliana that Clive had waited outside the house for the men to drag his father-in-law out. He had picked Sadira up by the arm, pulling her back from the spectators. His words came in a rush, "Where are your brothers?"
"They're helping Uncle Thorn." Sadira was crying, her knees scraped from the street. Clive's features were chiseled, his eyes stony, "Your Uncle Thorn, the mayor," His voice had dripped with anger, "Is gone, and so are your brothers." He shoved her towards the house, "If you know anything, Sadira," his voice was calm, "I'd advise you to tell me. I'm the only one who can protect you now."

But he hadn't protected her. Sadira blinked back a tear, her thoughts interrupted as the tribute from District 10 was called.

Clive had done nothing to stop her reaping. Maybe Clive had made even certain her name was in the reaping bowl.

Her mentors thought she didn't know, but Sadira had seen the brief glimpse on the screen last night. The escort was watching, Snider sitting stone-faced on the couch. Neither of them heard Sadira step into the room, looking for a bite to eat.

She'd stood behind the couch, hand stifling her breathing. Her father, barely able to stand. He was herded into the town square, a Peacekeeper shoving him with the butt of a rifle. The square was different, the shops shuttered, a crowd roped around the edge.

Sadira wanted to turn away. Wanted to ignore and pretend she didn't know. The capitol TV anchor commented, "This is the ringleader of treasonous activities in District 12. He is the third prisoner to be executed in District 12 today."

Third prisoner. Sadira closed her eyes. Were her brothers caught? What was her Uncle doing? Was her whole family dead?
Liliana. She glanced at the screen, looking for her sister. Her eyes fixed on a familiar face. Clive. He stood next to the gallows, placing the rope around her father's neck.

Clive called her father dad. He spent every Friday night eating dinner with their family. Her sister, she searched the crowd, then jumped back quickly as Snider turned off the screen. His voice was soft, "We don't need to watch the rest. That man is Sadira's father. Don't tell her."

Sadira jolted as Oliver's name was called. It was almost her turn. She rubbed her eyes, sitting up in the empty room.

"Papa's dead." She whispered the words. What did he die for? Was Liliana alive? Was mama safe? The questions swirled, unending. She couldn't fall asleep, not without seeing Clive's face. His stone gray eyes ignoring her fear as he pulled her into the Hall of Justice.

"Sadira Ness, District 12." The voice beckoned. She stood woodenly, blinking back images of her father.

I'm super sorry it's taken me so incredibly long to come back to this story. That was really bad of me, and I struggled with feeling too guilty for letting you guys down to write anymore. I love fanfiction, but I was stretched thin on writing for a while.
Anyway, do you like Ed Sheeran? I'm alternating listening to his new CD and Celtic music writing this chapter.

Also, I love Sadira and her story. :)