Chapter 13
Aemelia often makes fun of my lisp.
I wake up to the sound of two sobbing people. As I expected, Apollo and Aemelia are crying over the death of Rue, and the touching funeral my tribute gave her. Jesus, I leave the room for ten hours and it comes to this. Two sleep deprived, hopelessly romantic people sobbing over the death of a girl they didn't know. Yes, I know deaths are sad, and they've become attached to the tribute, but crying so loud that it woke me up? Really?
I rejoin my two companions as they watch the games.
"You should have seen it, Hera," Apollo says in between sobs, "The Cato guy snapped the pale boy's neck."
"It was r-really g-gruesome. Your tribute k-killed the District 1 t-tribute too," Aemelia was drying her eyes with tissue. The two look at each other and start bawling. I roll my eyes.
"You two are ridiculous," I say, leaning on the side of the couch. That makes the two start crying even harder. Why do I even try?
"W-we know," Apollo says wiping tears off his cheek. My tribute seems to be the one being broadcast the most. Interesting. She must be the most violent. I slept through most of the day already, so all that's really left is the anthem.
"I'm going to bed. I have to get back to work tomorrow," Aemelia says. She walks out of the room.
Aemelia's cleaning today. Not really much to clean, since we've been camped out in the den for the past week. Today's been pretty uneventful. My tribute is getting over Rue's death, Thresh found himself some food, the redheaded tribute was almost killed by Alpha Male, and Bread Boy seems ill.
"Have you eaten anything?" I ask Apollo. He shakes his head. "I'll make you food." He's really into these games. Usually he doesn't really like watching them, since he hates the sight of blood. It's hard for me to sit still for prolonged periods of time. My parents probably had some sort of meat for dinner, since it's Wednesday... or at least I think it's Wednesday. I don't find anything by looking around, and I don't want to make anything, so I just pull things out of cupboards and bring them to the den. Apollo and I sit on the couch and eat our meal. My tribute is resting in a tree, Bread Boy is sitting somewhere by himself, Alpha Male is pacing angrily, Thresh is waiting in the wheat field, and two other girls are eating. The anthem plays, and there are no deaths today, but after the anthem today, the head Gamemaker Claudius Templesmith calls out a rule change.
"What rules?"
"Shut up Apollo."
New rule: There will be two victors this year instead of just one, unless the two last ones are from different Districts. Interesting.
"They did this on purpose," I say. Apollo looks at me.
"What do you mean?"
"My tribute and Bread Boy are the star-crossed lovers, remember? The Gamemakers are trying to appeal to the members of the audience who want them to have fairy-tale ending." Apollo shakes his head and leans back on the couch.
"Oh screw this. I'm going to sleep," he says, laying back on the couch. I also lay back and close my eyes. Not because I'm sleep deprived like Apollo, but because I can already tell that this is going to be a dramatic Hunger Games.
Aren't Apollo and Aemelia lovely?