Chapter 2
The alarm clock next to my bed goes off the next day before the sun has even risen over the Capitol. The moon is still shining through the one window in my room at the Training Center, no stars in the sky. The city is lit, already bustling with life though I have reason to suspect the people here are just getting home. Unlike the people in District 12, there are no real jobs to attend to in the morning, nothing to have to be well rested for. No one here is slipping from their homes at the crack of dawn to look for work or to fall far below the earth. All the people here wake up well past eleven in the morning, not a care in the world but the thought of last nights activities.
You cant see the stars here. Not here when the lights are so much brighter than the natural beauty they hold for themselves. I do pity them for that but the people her don't know what their missing living here. Here where electricity is never at a shortage. Here where the people never have to worry about food...
I find myself hating the Capitol in moments like these when I'm alone and allowed to think these things. Gale never has a shortage of complaints for the Capitol. I know better than to speak as freely as he does but that's only because at the Academy, one wrong word about President Snow would send you out on the streets, with no food, no clothes, no shelter. It was smarter to keep your mouth shut, let everyone else do the talking and only speak to yourself in confidence.
In the dead of the night-well I suppose it is morning-i'm brought back to one conversation Gale and I had, two mornings before the Reaping which, I guess, was really only five days ago, maybe six.
"We could do it, you know," he'd said to me, feet outstretched. We were in the woods. Somewhere we weren't supposed to be but went anyway. Not because my family needed the food anymore but because Gales did and it was somewhere that reminded me of a time when I was just Katniss. Just the girl with a braid in her hair and a bow on her shoulder. Besides, no one was stopping us. The Peacekeepers almost encouraged us. Without Gale and I, there would be no fresh meat. Not for them, not for anyone.
"Do what," I mumbled, my mouth full of bread Sae had graciously given me when i'd left the Academy that morning for the woods. It was Sunday so we were allowed out, allowed to go home if that's what we pleased to do. Most kids didn't but I always did. Before I left I always went to see Sae, toothless Sae who was a comfort many days for me when my mother and Prim were away. She gave me food on Sundays, extra rolls or sometimes, if I was lucky, an apple. Gale never accepted the food I brought though. He called it Capitol property.
"Run away, live in the woods." I wasn't shocked by the statement. He always made inclinations that he believed we could do it or at least he could. I knew I never could, not with Prim and my mother who would reap the consequences of my leaving. I couldn't do that them.
"We wouldn't make it five miles, Gale," I say, not teasing but honest. "They'd find us." And they would. Because by this point and time, I was going to be their tribute. I was surprised when they'd let me out that morning, doing nothing but whispering in my ear the importance of my return. It was no secret where I was going. Maybe they thought i'd run but i'm sure they knew I wouldn't. I was a smart girl. I knew just how much was at stake.
"And do what? Cut our tongues out?" I'm sure that's what they would do. Turn us into Avoxes and force us to work in the Capitol, servants to the rich for the rest of our lives. What a joke that would make. Katniss Everdeen, once a tribute, now servant to the tributes.
Gale would truly have a reason to hate the Capitol then.
"Kill us," I add because, that too, was also a very real possibility. No one had ever tried to run, at least not in my lifetime but killing two people would be no problem for the Capitol. They kill at least 22 on live television every year. Two Seam kids wouldn't be a problem but it would be a very clear warning.
"Yeah, they've kind of already done that." I worried for a moment he'd heard. But when I look at his face, it shows me his words don't have an inch of truth to them.
So my secret was safe that day and I'd convinced Gale not to run. I worry he might, now that i'm gone. Who is there to talk sense into the boy? Not Hazelle, his mother who has the weight of the world on her shoulders raising four children alone and with no money. His siblings are too small to understand anything. Rory might, maybe Vick. I don't know.
A voice in the back of my mind tells me he'll stay. Stay to see if I really do come home. Or if I don't.
A knock on the door interrupts me from my thoughts. "Katniss, dear, are you awake?" It's Effie.
"Yes," I croak, my voice betraying me and laced with sleep. I rub my eyes furiously. I was used to early mornings at the Academy, days where training started early and ended late. But for some reason, I couldn't fight the sleep from my eyes no matter how many shakes I gave my head or how many handfuls of water I splash. I suppose it was my bodies was of telling me I wasn't ready for today.
"Breakfast is downstairs, darling. I would get a move on things. Training starts at ten." My eyes shift over to the clock sitting on the wall. It was only five.
What we would be doing for five whole hours, I didn't know. All I did know was the emptiness in my stomach I am used to had reappeared and now, I didn't have to ignore it. I tried not to feel bad about this but the guilt creeps up. I think about Prim, wandering what her breakfast will be in a few hours when she wakes for school. Most likely grain and milk, maybe bread if my mother visited the bakery like i'd told her too. Maybe Peetas father had given them more than just a roll for the goat cheese Prim made. I hope he did.
Peeta, Haymitch, and Effie are already seated at the table when I arrive though their plates have not been touched. Effie and Peeta smile sweetly while Haymitch looks disgruntled at the head of the table, his spoon tracing patterns into the milk in his bowl.
An Avox pulls out a chair for me. She's a girl, no older than I am with blonde hair and yellow eyes. I wonder what she did to end up this way or at least what the Capitol thought she did. Her eyes confuse me but I try not to linger for too long. I've heard rumors that before their tongues are cut from their mouths, the Capitol sometimes preforms experiments on them. Like Octavias died skin and the jewels Effie seems to have imprinted into the space just above her eyebrows. I had thought they were rumors. Surely cutting their tongues out was enough torture as is but the Capitol was always fond of taking it one step further.
"Oh, how nice of you to finally join us," Haymitch comments, his voice just as tired as mine.
"Ironic enough as it is that you should be saying that to me," I reply, not even flinching when the toe of Peetas boot comes in contact with my shin. "The bar run out already?"
Haymitch laughs, actually laughs at me and not out of pity or annoyance but because I was genuinely funny. After a while I join in, hating the thought of sharing a nice moment with this man but not able to stop myself. Peeta joins in too, putting his forehead into his hands while his body shakes with laughter. Effie is the only one unamused and sits with her lips pursed tightly together, shaking her head.
Peeta and I don't have very many moments left to be at ease so I suppose we're going to have to take them as they come, even if they are with Haymitch at his expense. "I've decided to help you," he says finally, not smiling but looking about as serious as Peeta and I have seen him. Neither of us answer for a moment, judging to see if he's serious enough or not and by the way Effie is leaning forward in her chair, it appears she is too.
"What do you mean," Peeta asks cautiously.
"It's such a shame that it's going to take so much convincing to convince you that I am actually going to do my job." It's not a joke. It is a shame. Maybe three dozen kids wouldn't have died before us if he had decided to "do his job" a litter sooner.
"Why?" I'm unable to keep the venom out of my voice. I don't believe him.
"Honestly," he asks, refusing the wine that they bring around the table. I'm shocked not only that the people here drink wine with breakfast-of all things-but that Haymitch is refusing it. This is the start of a very strange day. "I believe you two could win." I'd had faith in Peeta and I but hearing someone else say is something completely different. "If you two stay together." This means if one of us doesn't die before the other. If that happens neither of us stand a chance in hell.
I look at Peeta then, realizing that I never really considered the fact that the boy sitting next to me with the blonde hair and blue eyes could die in that arena at the hands of something completely out of my control. He looks at me like he just realized the same.
It was very simple. The Gamemakers could send an avalanche like they did one year to a pair from District 6. Or the way the cave fell on the two from District 10. Just two years ago, the pair from District 12 were killed in flood. They didn't know how to swim. They didn't stand a chance. But the girl from District 4 won that year after her partner fell from a tree, snapping his neck. I think her name was Annie but I don't know. I heard she went crazy after the Games, never really got back to normal so the Capitol let her disappear into the background noise of more interesting Victors from the District like Finnick Odiar. But that's all hear say.
"We can win," I say once I find my voice, erasing the visions of broken necks and drowning bodies from my mind. "We've trained and-"
"You've trained but I can promise you, nothing can prepare you for that Arena." All good feelings I had for Haymitch disappear in that moment.
"Well maybe if you helped us, being you are the only one who is still alive with actual knowledge of the Games, then maybe the Academy would be more successful," I grit through my teeth. Peeta says something in agreement but I don't hear it. My blood is still pounding in my ears. How dare he put the hard work and dedication Peeta and I have given for the honor of defending our District down.
He doesn't say anything for awhile and Effie is just about to interject when he places his forearms on the table, bending his torso to look us directly in the eyes. I take the challenge and so does Peeta. "First lesson," he says. His breath still smells of alcohol though I know, as of now, none is in his system. "Nothing, and I repeat nothing, I say or do or teach you will be able to prepare you for that Arena. Get that through your heads."
"If you're trying to scare us-"
"Oh, I'm not, Sweetheart. Just being honest," he says, sinking back into his chair. He accepts the wine then.
Breakfast is tense after that when the authentic meaning of his warning sets in. He's right, of course. As much as i'd like to believe I'm ready, who knows how ready I'll be when it comes to making the first kill or how i'll feel after. I look to Peeta again wondering how in the world he could make a kill.
He's been trained as well as you have, Katniss.
The first kill is usually the hardest as anyone would imagine. Watching the Games all my life, most tributes who aren't Careers spend the night after beheading a fellow tribute crying into their sleeping bags or screaming uncontrollably. No matter how you prepare yourself mentally, taking a human life isn't easy.
They tell me at the Academy to look at it as if I'm only killing an animal. An animal that is the key to my survival. In a way, that's exactly what it is but this is different. This animal has a family, siblings probably watching on the television at home. Maybe this animal has a girlfriend waiting for him, a future wife, and who knows, in this day in age maybe a child, a child that will grow up never knowing who their father truly was. Only knowing what the Capitol wants you too.
Yes, as much as i'd like to believe i'm only killing animals, I know I'm not.
Before I know it, we've only got an hour until ten. My prep team shows up as does Peetas, escorting us away to our separate living courters. I catch a glimpse at Peeta out of the corner of my eye, just in time for him to send me a shy smile in return. "Such a cutie, isn't he," Venia whispers into my ear, her red pointed nails digging into my shoulder blades. I flinch.
Cinna decides that today, I'm going back to my roots, clothes I'm actually comfortable wearing. The maroon top and black pants have little effect-nothing like the flames i'd worn the night before-but their me. Something I'm comfortable in. Something that i would consider wearing around District 12. The leather boots he puts on my feet are comforting as well, not like my fathers, but close. My prep team braids my hair back, much tighter than I would prefer but I let them do their job, nodding my head when they include me in conversation or comment on my skin tone or obsess over the "splints of gold" in my hair that I hadn't even known I had. The task seems to take much longer than it should but truthfully, I'm in no hurry to get to training.
Breakfast has left me feeling unsettled and I wish to lay down but that isn' an option when Effie is banging on my door, in the loud manner she had this morning. "We have a big, big, big day ahead of us!"
Peeta meets me at the elevator, dressed in an outfit similar to mine though he fills his out more. I look down at my own attire, embarrassed only for a moment at the way the clothes hang, sagging here and sagging there. The perks of living on the border of starvation.
The ride in the elevator is excruciating, both Peeta and I to nervous to speak to one another. I can tell by the way his jaw flexes and unflexes under my watch, his hands circling his wrists many times before finally falling to his sides. "We have to look strong when we walk out of these elevators," he tells me. "We aren't those twelve year olds who have no idea what we're doing. We're Careers." He says the words to me but I feel he's speaking more to himself.
But when the elevator doors do open, we are the last ones there, the only ones dressed alike, and by the smirks we get from the other Career tributes, I can only guess we look the complete opposite of strong. I take a quick glance around the room, not lingering on anyone in particular but when my eyes fall on the girl from District 11, the girl who smiled at us yesterday at the parade, I can't help but feel my heart sink.
Twelve year olds in the Games weren't common but they were seen. They were mostly volunteered for, much like what I had done but it seems the poor girl with dark skin and round eyes wasn't. Her partner is big, three times the size of Peeta, muscles on his forearms probably as big as my head. He looks like someone to be feared and I make a mental note of it. Good, I think. She has someone to look out for her.
Rue and Thresh. Those are their names, I remember now.
The feeling of hands tugging at my shirt alert me and within a minute, I have my arms flailing on the defense. It's only a startled looking Avox who raises the number 12 at me desperately, blocking her face from the blows she obviously assumed were coming her way. I shy away then, looking to Peeta who has his eyebrows raised in question. I glance around. No one seems to have noticed. "I'm sorry," I whisper to the girl. She only shakes her head because what else can she really do?
"For identification," Peeta mouths. Of course, I knew that.
Once Peeta and I have been squared away, we form a circle around a women who resembles Rue in a lot of ways. She tells us the basic rules, things we Careers already know from the constant training at the Academy.
There is to be no fighting. There is to be no foul language. If you want to engage in hand to hand combat, trainers will be on hand to do so. Yield the weapons with care and so forth and so forth.
I drown her out midway through her speech, taking the time I have to take a good look at the competition. Everyone else seems to be doing the same thing because more than once, tense eye contact is made with a tribute from another District.
I only take notice of a few. The pair from 2, the female tribute from 5, the male tribute from 10, and Thresh. They all stand well above the rest, obviously in good enough shape. The girl from 5 is inches taller than most of us, towering over her partner who is another twelve year old boy who looks wide eyed and nervous as his eyes preview the array of weapons. She has a good 75 pounds on me though it doesn't count against her. She built strong, muscular, tight. Great. The pair from 2 are ranked the highest in the Games, getting the most bets already on their victory. The male is tall, standing at least 6 feet 5 inches, no taller than Thresh but nevertheless, tall. His eyes are sharp, unwavered and he stands with his arms crossed over his chest, calm. He's arrogant much like I am and I know that can be dangerous. His fellow tribute whose name I know to be Clove can't be any taller than I am though from what I've heard in passing conversation between Mentors, she can throw knives just as well as Peeta can.
"Katniss," Peetas voice calls out to me. His arm is wrapped tightly around my elbow and for a moment I've worried I've fainted. Luckily I'm still upright so I'll take that as a good sign. "We start training now."
I look around me, realizing Peeta and I are the only ones still standing in the center of the Training Center floor. Peeta turns to walk away but before he can get too far, I grab ahold of his sleeve, pulling him to my side. "We have to stay together," I tell him in his ear.
"No one else is." He's right. All the other tributes have gone separately to a station, most of the Careers handling weapons while the other Districts twiddle their thumbs at things like plant identification and knot tying.
"We're a team, right?"
It doesn't take anymore convincing. Peeta and I go over to the fire making station, the instructor looking rather eager to have our company. I get the feeling that he doesn't get much of that and I understand why. Fire starting is the perfect skill to have for the Games if you're hoping to get killed. But Peeta insists and for the time being, I don't really feel like swinging any weapons around. I get enough time to do that back home.
I'm excellent at starting a fire. It's effortless and takes me only a matter of minutes to master the skill while Peeta is having a hard time even grasping the concept. My many years in the woods before my fathers death had taught me a lot of things about fire being winters were harsh in District 12. How to start a fire, how to properly dispose of one, how to rid the clothes of the smell using mud... Of course, Peeta hadn't needed to know any of this growing up. He had the bakery where it was always warm. Us Seam Brats needed a little more being coal was to expensive to buy even though we mined it ourselves.
"You're good at this," Peeta comments in frustration, shaking off the instructors help once again. He runs a hand through his hair. "I've never been good at this outdoorsy stuff."
"Well, you've better start learning." I'm half joking, half serious.
"Good things we're a team, right?" And now he is half joking, half serious.
We move on after some time. I avoid the archery station. Peeta avoids knives and weights. No one needs to know our strengths. No one here at least.
We try our luck with spears. I don't have much luck but as it would seem, Peeta is excellent. "Okay, Finnick Odiar," I joke, elbowing Peeta in the ribs as his spear lands dead center in yet another dummy. As I look at the wobbling piece of plastic, I realize very soon that will be a person. Someone in this room...
"You've got it wrong, Everdeen. That was a trident, much different than this thing," he teases back, wiping the sweat from his brow before stepping aside to let me have a try. I throw the thing as hard as I can but it only sticks in the stomach of the dummy, barley puncturing the surface. "That shot would've been fatal." He's right. It would have.
"I just want to get good at as much as I can," I tell him honestly, watching as he, yet again, decapitates the dummy, the insides falling onto the floor of the Training Room. They disappear within seconds. Capitol magic.
"You can throw knives," he asks.
"Not nearly as well as you can." I miss again though this time, the spear manages to stay in the dummy. Small victories, Katniss.
"Well I can't shoot a bow for shit," he says, looking over his shoulder to make sure no ones heard us. No one has. "And I don't really excel in all this outdoor stuff, fire making, food finding, stuff like you do. So you make up for not being able to throw a knife in more ways than one."
We're dismissed a short time later and when Peeta and I finally make our way back to the 12th floor of the Training Center, it's nearly 6 in the afternoon. Time sure does fly when you're having fun.
We've taken two steps out of the elevator before we're dragged off to dinner then interrogated by Effie and, a surprisingly sober, Haymitch. We go through the details of our day, not in full detail because everything just seemed to run together. Nothing was eventful, nothing stood out. We spoke to no one and no one spoke to us. There was really nothing to share other than the fact that Peeta and I discovered I have no talents in throwing sharp objects and he has no talents in fire starting. Effie and Haymitch aren't impressed.
"You have to pay more attention to the others because I can guarantee they are paying attention to you two," Haymitch hisses, pointing his fingers sharply at both Peeta and I. Effie nods her head in agreement. "Allies. How do you feel about allies?"
It's common to see alliances form in the Arena when every one is hungry and one person manages to get away with an abundance of food or your District partner dies and your suddenly left alone in the fight of your life. The thing about alliances though is that they all must come to an end at some point and usually that point comes in the dead of the night when someone takes fate into their own hands and slits everyones throat. The only alliance you need is with the person who is going to get you out of there and that is your District partner.
"Peeta and I have an alliance within ourselves," I say, shoveling the white rice that's been placed before me down my throat. I look to Peeta who nods in agreement. Good. So we're on the same page about this.
"It may be smart," Effie says, lifting her glass towards Haymitch who does the same. My eyes widen at the two of them, confused as to how they suddenly started getting along so well. Things change when you leave the room for a few hours.
"It may not be," Peeta counters.
It wouldn't be, both Effie and Haymitch have to know that. District 12 is never allies with the other Career groups. I don't know whether that is their own doing or the fact that 1, 2, and 4, have given up hope that we'll ever be worth something-as has most on Panem-but it never ends up that way.
But I know Clove and her male counterpart will be begging for Peeta and I to be allies once we get the 12's on our private session with the Gamemakers.
We're dismissed after a while though Peeta and I sit in front of the television in his bunker. It's identical to mine but he seems to have fresh flowers placed in every corner of the room. Their orange, obviously manipulated by the Capitol like everything else. I look closely at the flower, running a hand over the petals. We have this flower in District 12 but I don't know the name of it. It isn't eatable so it is no use to me.
"Tulips," Peeta tells me. I look back at him, my eyebrows knitted together. "Those are tulips. We decorate a lot at the bakery with them." So that's where I must have seen them. Thinking back I can remember. They sit in the window of the shop. I've never been inside but their probably hung all around too. The image is a nice one. I know why Peeta has done this. "Of course back home they aren't orange but..."
"There still beautiful," I tell him, taking one in my hand. He won't miss one. He has four dozen others. "Are you going to decorate your home in Victors Village with tulips?"
He shrugs. "I suppose though their a little harder to come by there."
"You could buy them by the pound."
He laughs. "I guess I could."
We really settle in to watch TV then because their doing stories on last years Games. Seneca Crane has been the head Gamemaker for four years now. He took over the year my father died. His Arenas are usually flat, wastelands of some sorts, almost predictable. One year, under pressure from the Capitol, he made an Arena that was completely water, only a few small islands here and there. This meant tributes who didn't know how to swim we're weeded out pretty early in the competition and those who did didn't really have any chance to hide. Everyone had no choice but to fight with one another. As it would turn out, the islands began sinking deeper and deeper into the water as the days progressed, the only safe place to flee being the Cornucopia which was still gold and glistening. The Career tributes from 4 had made their stake there. They won, inevitably. Spearing all the other tributes as they swam.
"What do you think this guys gonna give us," Peeta asks me, one arm swung around my shoulders and the other pulling at the tips of his hair. I notice it's significantly shorter. His prep team must have cut it.
"I don't know," I whisper truthfully. "Hopefully not water." I can swim but I doubt Peeta can. There is no pool or ocean in District 12. No where he would've been able to learn besides venturing out into the woods like I had.
"Yeah, hopefully not."
We're silent then and just watch. The only clear though I'm able to make in the moments are how despicable Seneca Cranes beard is, patterned and swirly and not something he should be proud of.
The programs ends, the anthem playing before the Capitol seal and then the screen fades to black. Neither of us move for awhile, just waiting for something to happen. "I guess that's the end of the nights festivities," I whisper to Peeta, moving my legs out from under me to stand. It's well past midnight. I should have been to sleep hours ago. "Goodnight, Peeta. I will see you in the morning."
He stands too, walking me to my door though it's the one right next to his. He makes a joke about it and he receives a laugh. I validate my presence by placing my thumb on the panel, waiting patiently for it recognize me. "Katniss Everdeen. District 12," it says, unlocking the door.
"Try and get some sleep," Peeta says to me, knocking once on the door frame before retreating to his own room. "We have a big, big, big day!" His impression of Effie makes me laugh and fall to sleep soundly that night, dreaming of the boy with the bread.
The days in the Training Center go by much quicker than the first. I still don't shoot any arrows and Peeta doesn't swing knives around but we definitely do make an impression. I'm skilled at snares and plant identification, Peeta seems to excel in camouflage and swords fighting. Ha. Who would've known?
The Careers keep a close eye on us all throughout the training and we do the same. It turns out the male from District 2's name is Cato. Peeta told me that one day at lunch. He can throw knives but it seems that's the only thing the pair can do. But it isn't a bad trait to have. Glimmer is useless as far as I'm concerned. She tries to handle an arrow but she's not good, not like I am. Marvel, her partner, is good with a spear though. He goes through six dummies in a span of three minutes and if I remember correctly, his eyes were closed. The pair from 4 don't do anything interesting. Hiding whatever it is they can do which is what Peeta and I are doing.
All the Careers minus Peeta and I, sit at lunch together. They don't speak to each other, not like the other Districts do but still. Their silence adds to the intimidation.
When the day comes for our private session with the Gamemakers, i've found I'm unable to sleep or eat or talk at the breakfast table. My eyes are empty and when I go to braid my hair before stepping onto the elevator, strands fall out. I relate it to the stress.
Peeta seems to be the same way. Not speaking to me as we make the journey from floor to floor down to the basement. He does grab my hand though, much like he did during the tribute parade. I'm comforted once again by the warmth.
We walk into the Training Center connected, ignoring the looks we get from our fellow tributes as we take our seat on the bench. Haymitch had already run through what was going to happen. Though we were a team, we would each go in separately. We would do whatever it is we wanted to do and after fifteen minutes, we'd be dismissed. It goes District by District meaning we would go last but that gives us more time to prepare mentally. We shouldn't be nervous, we shouldn't be angry, we just need to do what we came to do. Seemed easy enough.
Tributes seem to dwindle out by the masses. First Marvel, then Glimmer, and so forth and so forth until Rue leaves silently, actually wishing Peeta and I good luck, and we are left alone, hands still connected. We don't say anything in the fifteen minutes we have alone. We just sit there.
And soon Peetas name is called. He goes to leave but for some reason I have a hard time letting go of his hand. "Use the knives first, then the spear because as it turns out you're very good at it." This earns a smile. "Then throw some things around. You have fifteen minutes, make good use of every second."
"Thanks Haymitch," he jokes, tugging on the edge of my braid. "Shoot straight."
I watch his back until the metal doors close on either side of him and I instantly miss the comfort of another person in here with me. Now it's to quiet and I'm to wrapped up in my own mind. I haven't shot in almost a week, what if I've lost my ability in that time? What do I do then? Maybe throw some knives around but I won't come close to being as good as Peeta. I suppose only one of us needs a good score. Maybe it can be him.
It surely hasn't been fifteen minutes but I hear my name over the loud speaker. I nearly miss it with the screaming going on inside me head. It takes me a moment to get to my feet and then another moment to make my feet move. The doors open and the floor is clear and the first thing I see is a bow, not one like my father made but nevertheless, a shiny bow that practically has my name on it.
The Gamemakers all sit above in the balcony they've been in all week, talking and laughing and drinking and I begin to wonder if I'm at a party or my private session. Not one of them is paying any sorts of attention. No one besides the old man sitting in the corner who looks like he's unable to look away do to the fact it would take to much execration to do so. "Katniss Everdeen. District 12," I say loudly, grasping some of their attention. I see Seneca Crane then, for the first time in real life versus the television. I note he looks just as ridiculous.
I don't waste any more time, knowing five minutes have probably already gone by. I take two long strides towards the bow, gripping the metal in my hand, touching the strings. No, it's nothing like my fathers bow but I can't chose now to be picky. It's more like the bows at the Academy which I rarely handle due to the fact I despise them.
A bow is a bow, Katniss. Now is your chance.
I send the first arrow flying towards a dummy in the center of the room. Much to my disappointment, instead of sticking in the very center of the dummys chest, it wavers, planting itself directly in the head. Dammit. I chance a glance up but no one is watching me. The old man has even averted his attention else where. They are all standing around a roasted pig. One that hadn't been there moments before.
Tears well up in my eyes then, not out of embarrassment but out of anger. Surely, none of the other Career Districts got this kind of treatment. No. Only District 12 because even now, even before the Games have started, we are already being counted out and I was tried of being counted out.
It takes me no time to send the second arrow flying and at this point, it doesn't puncture the dummy but instead punctures the apple which is lying directly in the center of the pigs mouth. All is quiet for a moment except for the one or two screams coming from a few ladies in the balcony. Now I have everyone's attention but suddenly I don't want it.
I place the bow back on it's stand, extending my arms to my side as I bow politely like I had been taught. "Thank you for your time and consideration."
I hear their gasps as I turn to leave but they can't be surprised. What did they expect from me? I was the hot tempered girl from District 12 and that is what I had given them. The Avoxes near the elevator stand wide eyed as I make my way past them, tears now spilling down my cheeks. I don't wait for them to open the door for me, or click my number, or anything. I do it all myself because I can. I look at them with sad eyes. Hell, maybe after this stunt I would become one of them. That wouldn't be surprising.
Effie, Haymitch, and Peeta are all waiting for me when the elevator door opens. No one speaks for a long time, obviously taking in the sight of the tears rolling down my cheeks. I'm not crying but I'm unable to stop them.
"What happened," Peeta asks first.
I look down at my feet. ""Ishotanarrowatthem," I say the words so fast I know they all run together.
"What?" Haymitch asks, moving in closer to me.
"I shot an arrow at them," I say more clearly, wishing my hair was down so I could use that to hide. No one says anything but I hear the clinking of Effies heels as she walks away dramatically and the intake of breath Peeta gives. When I finally look up, Effie is seated on the couch, her head in her hands and it appears she too is crying. Then Peeta who has one eyebrow raised in obvious confusion and finally, Haymitch. Haymitch who actually has a smile on his sunken face.
"Did you really, Sweetheart?" I just nod, my throat tight. He laughs then, slapping me on the back. I look up at him with wide eyes, confused as too why he is so happy with this. The Gamemakers had probably already called someone to arrest me, to take me to President Snows mansion so they could cut my tongue out on live television. They would probably pull Prim out of school just so she could watch first hand. "That's the best thing I've ever heard!"
"What's the best thing you've ever heard?" Oh great! It seems our prep teams have shown up for the announcement of the scorings. Also to start preparing us for the interviews that take place two days from now. I'd forgotten all about those but at the rate fate was taking me, it looked like I wouldn't have an interview being my tongue would be cut out. Oh, maybe they'll do it then just to ensure all of Panem is watching.
"Katniss shot an arrow at the Gamemakers, Cinna, and no! It is not the best thing you've ever heard! Katniss, honey, how could you do such a thing?" Effie is talking more to herself than me but she parades around, waving her hand in the air with exasperation. Portia and Cinna both look equally as confused as Peeta who has not stopped staring at me in the fifteen minutes I've been here.
I feel guilty then. Not only have I probably ruined whatever chances I had of getting any sponsors in these Games but I have probably also screwed everything up for Peeta. No matter how good he does, it will all be overshadowed by the one I'm sure to get. I'll be nothing but dead weight to him.
"What will they do to her, Haymitch," Peeta finally asks, turning his body away from me and towards our mentor who has taken a seat at the bar. Yes, what will they do to me?
"Nothing," he says with a shrug of his shoulder. "There's nothing they can do at this point in the competition. It would be to much of a hassle to replace you."
I breath out a sigh of relief. "What about my family?"
"You didn't hurt anyone. They won't care."
I worry Haymitch is wrong but both Cinna and Portia assure me he's right. Effie says nothing but continues to stomp around, stopping every few seconds to whisper something below her breathe and then continues her rant again. No one listens to her and Peeta comes to take a seat beside me, flipping on the television. "They'll be on soon," he tells me, releasing a deep breath. I've let him down.
"Peeta, I am so sorry," I apologize, tears threatening to spill over again.
"Don't. It'll make for some fun dinner party stories at our home in Victors Village, won't it?" He nudges my shoulder with his. How can someone be so good and still be picked to do something so horrible? Looking at Peeta, I know instantly he was the wrong choice in these Games. Not because he can't hold his own but because he is not someone who should be burdened with the task of killing other peoples children. He should be living his life safe within the comforts of District 12's walls.
"Oh look, it's starting," Portia says. The room falls quiet then.
The two from 1 both get 9's. Good score, something to be expected from Careers. Cato gets a 10, Clove a 9. The pair from 4 an 8. Thresh gets a 10. Rue a 7.
Then it's District 12. Pictures of Peeta and I flash on the screen. Peeta is first and he gets a 10. I let out a scream of excitement, something completely out of character for me but I'm unable to stop myself. I fling my arms around his neck and he does the same. At least he has a chance. I'll get the one I deserve and be completely overlooked.
But I don't get a one. I get an 11.
We all stand silent for quite some time, not believing what we heard but just as we're about to question it, a gold 11 pops up below my name. I'm at a loss for words. Everyone is District 12 will be celebrating. Peeta and I are the highest scoring District partners. That means we'll have sponsors. That also means we'll have a target on our backs.
"There setting you guys up," Haymitch confirms. There's no excitement about my 11 because we all know I didn't deserve it. What I did was illegal, I'm sure of it but like Haymitch said, it would be too much of a hassle to replace me. The private sessions are just that-private. They couldn't arrest me without explaining the cause and they would never do that. So for tonight I was safe but in three days time I wouldn't be.
"Well, the sponsors don't know what happened. They'll just think Katniss is a good shot," Cinna offers. I am a good shot. He's right and I can hear the phone already beginning to ring in the next room. I look towards Haymitch to see if he has any intention of going to see who it is but he doesn't. He is having an even greater time nursing his drink in his hand.
"Are you going to answer that," I growl, not really mad at him. More at myself, and Snow, and the Gamemakers. Haymitch is just the perfect person to take it out on. "I thought you were going to start doing your job," I say, referring to the previous conversation that had taken place a few days prior.
"For right now, I'd like to drink this drink," he says. "From the looks of it you could use one too."
I could but I'd never had spirits before and mere days before going into the Arena was not the time to try. I turn to Cinna and Portia then who stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Are you here about the interviews?"
"No, actually. Haymitch and Effie will do all the coaching for that. We are just here for dinner," Portia answers. I look over then. It seems dinner has been placed out for us, all the best foods sitting on the glass table, steaming and awaiting my arrival. But I'm not hungry. In fact, the smells make my stomach churn and I'm worried my lunch may make a reappearance on the floor.
"I'm not very hungry," I tell her. "In fact, I just kind of want to go to bed now if that's okay."
"Of course, it's been a long day for us all," Cinna says, silencing Effie who looks like she is about to make me stay. I look to Peeta who has his gaze centered in on the leather shoes the Capitol has given him. Gale wouldn't except those shoes. He would probably burn them before their very eyes and stick to the worn down pair he wears around the District.
From some reason, comparing Peeta and Gale seems like something that shouldn't be done for reasons I don't understand. I don't think either of them would like it very much. Gale was my only friend at times, nothing more. But Peeta was my friend, kinda. I feel we would get along well back in District 12 if he grew up in the Seam. And there was nothing more there either but still. The thought of both these boys coexisting in my mind didn't work out well.
"Goodnight," I whisper to Peeta. He smiles at me, patting my leg as I stand up prepared to leave. No one says anything else as I retreat to my room but I know the moment they hear the lock of my door, they will have many things to say about me. Peeta may even ask to go in alone now. Ask Haymitch to find some way to break it to me nicely. I wouldn't blame him. If it had been the other way around, I don't doubt I would've asked Haymitch the same thing.
I lie beneath the covers in my bed, smelling the sheets that have replaced during the short twenty minutes I spent in the shower. There a pale pink now, much like the ribbon on the ear of Prims goat, Lady. I hope that goat was still alive. It had been sick for a few days, nothing more than a cold probably but it wasnt safe drink it's milk, therefore Prim couldn't sell it.
Maybe the goat man who'd I brought it from was feeling sentimental, maybe sorry for me therefore feeling sorry for my sister. Maybe he'd given her a calf, one that wouldn't produce anything right away but just needed some coaxing, some years to grow and mature. Gale will have kept them fed this long if that's the case. They should be giving him something in return though I know he would never take it. He was too full of pride. Maybe their giving him medicines because I know Posy is prone to colds. He would accept that. If it was something for his family that is.
I miss home. I allow myself to say it aloud for the first time since I've been here.
This was always my destiny. This is the only thing that would make life for Prim and my mother easier but I still wept at the thought of being away from them. I didn't want Prim to grow up solely with my mother but if Peeta and I couldn't do this, if the Arena was in fact too much for us to handle, she would have to.
If I don't win, Peeta must. I'll tell him this sometime soon, maybe in the Arena or before if things start going south. If I break my leg like the girl had, I don't want him to stand by my side, nursing me when we both know the inevitable has happened. He'll run, take the food and weapons I have and fight on his own because it will be better for my family if he does so. Even as I think the words, I worry he won't take them seriously.
I couldn't do it. Not if it was Peeta. If he was the one to break his leg, would I leave him? Could I? I wouldnt be able to walk past the bakery, look at his sad brothers and his parents, knowing that I did nothing to save their precious son. I would give them money, all the money they asked for but I don't know what it would do. The mother would be contempt, I'm sure. The father was nicer, more patient and caring then even Peeta. I doubt the money would do anything to ease the pain in his heart.
But I can't afford to think that way. In my mind, there is no doubt that Peeta and I will win. There can't be or we may as well kill ourselves.
A knock on the door startles me. I crack the door. It's just an Avox, the one with the yellow eyes. I let her in. "Hello," I say. She smiles.
She's brought me water, water and a capsule that must be some kind of medicine here in the Capitol. I look at it wearily, spinning it in my fingers, wondering if she's poisoned this somehow. But why would she? What have I done to her? "Did I order this?" I ask her, raising it to view. She shakes her head.
"Haymitch," she writes down on a post it. Hm. Even more reason not to trust it. I throw it on the floor, crushing it with my bare feet. I leave a powder on the floor, looking up at the Avox who will probably have to clean it. "I'm sorry," I whisper, taking the glass of water from her. It takes me no time to drink every last drop.
"Just leave it," I say as she sinks to her knees. She doesn't listen to me though, continuing to sweep the powder into her hands. "Leave it," I say a little louder, the tears from earlier making a reappearance. "Just leave it!"
She jumps at my tone, dropping what she had managed to scoop up all over the floor again. I don't have time to be sympathetic because suddenly I'm angry and sad and a handful of emotions I can't name. The hand that was holding the once full water glass flies across the room, hitting the wall before dispersing into a thousand tiny crystal clear fragments. A few catch on my hand and I'm bleeding. I inspect the cut. Not too deep. I'll live.
The Avox looks at me in surprise, holding her hands close to her chest. I stare at her then, my eyes wide with fear at my own self. I've never been someone angry, not like Gale. But in this moment I was. I was angry at everyone but the Avox who had no control over her fate. Not like I had control over mine. She must think I'm a monster but who would blame her?
"I'm sorry," I whisper again, rushing to her side as I bend to pick up the scattered glass. I knew I shouldn't. The only thing I was succeeding in doing was making the cuts on my hands worse. That certainly wouldn't help me in the Arena. "I'm sorry," I chant when she finally pulls me up, shaking her head no. I don't know what she means and I want to ask her but how would I do that. She can't speak. She's been silenced.
She takes me to the bed, forcing me to face my palms up, lightly touching the new cuts that have all formed. She pulls the pieces of glass out with her fingernails, wincing herself as they begin to leave small cuts and indentions. I want to tell her to stop but the pain I once felt is now soothed and I couldn't ask her to stop now.
"What happened to your eyes," I ask her once all traces of glass have been removed. She pours alcohol on my cuts. It hurts but I say nothing. She looks up at me through her eyelashes. "Did they do this to you?" Yes or no question. She could answer that with a simple shake of her head.
She nods her head like I had expected her too.
"I'm sorry," I say to her, reaching my hand to place it on her shoulder. She jumps at the touch and I know I probably shouldn't be doing this but I don't care. "I really am."
And I am. I'm sorry they made her their property just as they had made me theirs.
But she looks at me with equally sympathetic eyes. She's sorry for me too. Because what they would do to me would be much worse than coloring my eyes and cutting out my tongue.
They were turning me into a killer and I was letting them. That is, if someone else didn't kill me first.
She tucks me in after that, like my mother used to do.
I only get to whisper my thank you before she's gone, leaving me alone.
Sleep came soon and I let it.
Chapter 2! How was it?