Distractions

Junia

The second day of training plays out much like the first, except now there is little interaction with people outside of our alliances. For me, this means restricting my communication to the tomboyish Fallon, talkative Broden and lily-livered Innogen.

Most of the larger alliances with the older kids are spending today at the survival skills stations, letting us have the chance at weapons practice. I'm not particularly good at anything, but at least I'm not as bad as Innogen, who hasn't managed to actually fire an arrow into the target yet. I still have my reservations about her. I feel as though the four of us were lumped together and leftovers; rejects that nobody else wanted. Innogen is unlikely to be of any help in the Games, but I didn't have the heart to exclude her. I just imagined what it would be like to be in her situation and my heart went out to her.

"Do we have a strategy, guys?" Fallon asks. She's the most level-headed and logical of the four of us. In an unspoken way, we've elected her as leader.

"I think we should run away", suggests Innogen in her distant, fearful way.

"I think we should hide out and wait. None of us very good fighters", I say.

Fallon agrees with me. "The only problem with that is that we'll need plenty of food and water. The Gamemakers won't guarantee us either of those. And by the looks of things, whatever we can't pick up from the Cornucopia will be claimed by one of the other alliances."

"So we're heading into the bloodbath?" I whimper. That is always the worst part of the Games to watch. My parents wouldn't even let me watch it until last year's Quarter Quell, and only then because it was a special occasion.

"Absolutely. If our strategy is going to hide, we'll need to leave the Cornucopia with as much as we can possibly carry. Otherwise we don't stand a chance at all. Now no more talking, we need to get in some more practice."

She's trying to distract us. Make us work hard and think hard so we can forget about death. It's a hard thing to stop thinking about.

The Gamemakers look down at us intently. The only familiar one is Plutarch Heavensbee; the rest are new. Once, I thought of them as great directors of the best TV show the world has ever seen. Thoroughly deserving of all the trophies they got at the Annual Capitol Screen Awards. Now they are our executioners. The only thing I can compare it to is finding out that one of your friends has betrayed you. That disgusted, sick feeling. I don't ever want that to happen again.

Oberyn

The hate is growing.

What used to be expressions of indifference have turned into loathing. The way that we sneer and narrow our eyes at each other has become the norm. Our second day of Training isn't even over yet and the district rebels have already turned us against one another. I suppose that it's all for the best. I imagine it's easier to kill someone you hate. The problem is Tunney. I don't hate her. I really like her. We were already friends at school, but I was always interested in something more than friendship. But it's too late for any of that now. I need to focus on what's important. Staying alive.

"Calm down, Oberyn. You look like you're going to have a stroke", says Tunney. She's so beautiful.

"Why are you so angry?" the other guy on our group, Corsan asks.

"I just…" I look over at the other lunch table. Urban, Larissa, Lenora and Falko have claimed the entire table and are eating lunch there, their angry faces mirroring mine. "I just want to kill them so badly", I hiss.

A suddenly seething Tunney slaps me in the face. "Don't say that. You know it's not true. You don't want to kill anybody. Nobody here wants to kill anyone. We're in the same crappy situation together. That alliance is not our enemy. The real enemy put us in here. Show some kindness."

"Kindness doesn't exist in the Games, Tunney. I'm with Oberyn on this one", Sergia says.

"So you have no regard for your morality, your humanity. It's what we forced the districts to do to one another. And I see it now. I see that it was wrong. I don't want the Capitol to be the bad guys anymore."

There's a pause before Corsan speaks up.

"The hate. It distracts us."

Tunney is quiet after that.

Summer

I'm glad I ended up with Lorna as an ally. We make a pretty good team. In fact, I think our chances of winning have risen just by us being together. She's so gorgeous, and athletic too, with long, silky-smooth blonde hair and even longer, tanned legs. We have a lot in common too. We'd probably be best friends if we weren't stuck here.

We both know our gossip is a distraction. It takes us back to the safety of our lives before the rebellion, where everything was peaches and cream. We ooh and aah about boys and we gossip about celebrities. We discuss fashion and we rave about parties. We don't talk about the Games.

Fausta

As I walk past his bedroom late that night, I can hear Cicero crying. I knock on the door and he lets me in. His large, owl-like eyes are dripping with tears, leaving little trails on his cheeks.

"Are you OK?" I ask. Of course he's not. It's a stupid question. But now that we're allies, I have a duty to comfort him. To be his big sister.

"I'm so scared", he cries, his chest heaving. The sight of him breaking down makes me scared too. How could the districts force a little kid like this to his death?

"I know how to distract you", I say, leading him over to the bed and tucking him in. "I'll tell you a story. And whenever you're scared, just tell yourself the story and you won't be scared anymore."

Cicero nods. He's stopped crying at least. I put on my most soothing voice that I use for my little brothers when I tell them stories. "Once upon a time..." I begin. He'll like this one. It has a happy ending. I can't say the same for us tributes though. 23 of our stories won't have happy endings.