Laurel Eresong, District Nine Female, 15 years old
When the first person that comes in to see me is Bay I know that my parents have let him do so - I'm not as imperative to their lives as I am to his, in the nicest way possible, and they probably want me to reassure him before anything else happens. I know what Bay'll do when he's home alone; he probably won't eat for the entirety of the festivities, spend all night worried for me and, if I die, he'll probably go into a slump that I'm not too sure he'll recover from.
We sit side by side in silence for the majority of the allotted goodbye. I don't push him because he's probably struggling with his words. I let him take his time - if he wants to spend the time in silence then that's what we'll do. He needs me and if he wants his potentially final time seeing me full of silence and just taking my presence in, then so be it.
It takes him a while but he speaks up, looking at me. "Thank you," He simply says, "For everything."
I wasn't expecting that. I was expecting him to tell me to try my hardest, that he needs me and the like, not a thank-you. I can't help but smile and shake my head softly, "It's nothing, honest. I'm sure if the roles were reversed you'd do the same."
He nods himself, trying to force out a smile, "I would. Do what you've always done - be optimistic in the Games, please."
I nod and, in an attempt to lighten the mood, I laugh a little, "You won't see me without a smile on my face."
That evokes a small laugh out of him and we embrace. I make sure to squeeze him, just in case this is our last time together.
Blake Eden, District Nine Male, 17 years old
My family comes to visit me in the goodbye section, all of them. I don't care too much for my mother and sister, Poppy, as they serve no more purpose to me. They can't help me in the arena but I make sure to humour them and hug them, telling them I'll miss them.
To my brother, Burlap, and I have a more genuine hug and he whispers some words of encouragement. Whether or not he genuinely wants to or the expectation of our mother is upon him, I don't know.
And then my eyes fall on my father. More specifically, the lack of his hand. It takes a second for it to fully click in my head what's going on. The same people who took my father's hand is taking me and throwing me into an arena full of people who'll be desperate for life.
I try to listen to what my father says to me, trying to remember it so when I'm on my own I can recall it back to myself but, ultimately, my eyes and mind are fixated on the stub at the end of his arm. It sickens me, if I'm honest. Why does my family have the worst luck? My father being attacked without remorse, nobody coming to his aid and I was reaped with nobody coming to mine. Other people get volunteered for, despite it being a rare occurrence. Why did nobody volunteer for me?
I'm so lost in my thoughts, my anger, my concern with the injustice in Panem that I don't notice my father's outstretched arms for a hug at first and it takes me a second or two to register what he's doing. Without any hesitation I hug him and I hug him tightly.
I've got a chance to win this. I know I can manipulate well. I just need to take it one day at a time.
Illea Augustine, District Ten Female, 15 years old
I spend the majority of my allotted goodbye time daydreaming. I like dreaming - it takes you into your own world where you can control what happens and feel completely at ease. Today I dream about small routines that I know well, things that'll comfort me as I face an impending death.
My mother doesn't mind too much when I don't speak and instead look at nowhere in particular on the wall; she's just like me, she likes to dream too. No, it's my father and older sister who have the issue. They love me, don't get me wrong, but their determined and hard-working personalities clash with my whimsical and lackadaisical one. It's not a big issue, they're just frustrated that I'm not speaking as much. We've all heard the stories - people spend all their time talking about memories, or crying, or just doing something. We, on the other hand, sit in silence.
I can tell my mother's off dreaming, probably recalling happy memories. My father and sister give me advice; how to hold myself when in the Capitol, what to say in the interview and how to act in the arena. I nod, not really taking any of it in. The deep mauve of the walls resonate an ambient noise and it's throwing me off slightly, as per my synesthesia. When my sister begins to cry a little, I see the colour blue more.
Eventually I promise them that I'll do my best since that's all I can do. Figuring it's the best they'll get out of me, my father and sister nod and the four of us share a hug.
Dion Ouyang, District Ten Male, 16 years old
I hadn't gotten my hopes up about my mother visiting me to say goodbye - she's been suffering from dizzy spells a lot recently and I think that, along with potentially seeing her son for the last time and losing him like she did my dad, would be too much for her. I had fully anticipated waiting around for the goodbyes of my district partner to finish up, maybe seeing a few coworkers or friends turn up for myself.
To my surprise, my mother does come to visit me, though it isn't hard to tell that she's not in the best of health.
We sit in silence for a bit - I don't want to push her and instead I let her take her time. As an aspiring doctor I've tired to help her but every time I've attempted to she's declined, making me learn that she'll do things on her own terms if and when she feels like it.
It does take her a while to say something, but eventually she looks over at me with a sad smile. "Prepare for the worst," She says simply, "Don't let the arena change you."
It's not quite the advice I was expecting but, nevertheless, I nod, "Of course."
She seems to be content with this answer and we exchange a hug. I can tell she's holding back tears and wants to appear strong for the sake of keeping me sane.
I can feel my heart hurting a little as she's taken away because I fully realise that I may not see her ever again.
Ellie Rosebush, District Eleven Female, 14 years old
"Don't try in front of the camera," Is the first thing my grandmother says, "Don't give them the satisfaction in knowing they're hurting you."
I nod, "I won't."
"Stay unreadable, make them wonder what kind of a tribute you'll be," She says, looking at me intensely.
It's a stark contrast from the woman that was weeping a mere ten minutes ago, but that's my grandmother. She can switch emotions quicker than anyone I've ever seen. I can tell she wants me to survive - who wouldn't want their family to? Part of me thinks she, like I have to some extent, has accepted that I might not come back and now she's trying to cram all of her advice into one little allotted time slot.
She and I keep the stare for a few seconds before she hugs me tightly. She runs her hand in my hair and it's only now that I feel like crying. A quietly sung lullaby sounds out in the room and for a split second I'm taken back to when I first went to live with my grandmother. It's a bittersweet memory and I feel sick.
We pull away from each other just in time for the peacekeepers to escort her away. She kisses me on the forehead, cups my face in her hands for a few seconds and smiles sadly at me before being forced away.
Brock Ushums, District Eleven Male, 18 years old
When only my siblings come to visit me, I'm slightly surprised. Surely they'd want Savanna with them? When I ask them they simply say that she wanted to see me separately.
Myself and my siblings spend the time playing with one another. It'll more than likely be the last chance we'll be able to do so and the sound of them laughing might just give me the determination that I need. I make sure that I throw them all in the air at least once, have all of them riding on my shoulders for at least one lap of the room and I make sure to give each of them a tight hug. They don't deserve this, to lose their oldest brother too, and I hope it doesn't ruin them mentally.
When it's time for them to go they all look scared again with the danger of them crying rising.
"Don't cry guys," I say as we pull each other into one large hug, "I'll come back."
They seem to be tided over by this response and, when I ask, they give me a smile as they walk out. After a few seconds, Savanna walks in briskly - she intends to walk in and walk out, probably because it's difficult for her.
She makes me outstretch my palm and, in it, she places a promise ring.
"Promise me you'll come back," She says, voice shaky yet her tone suggests she's determined in what she's saying, "Promise me you'll come back for me and them."
I look down at the ring. I know my chances of survival are high, but what is that to someone who's trained to kill? I close my palm around the ring and look back up at her and nod, "I promise."
She's content with this answer and flings her arms around me, hugging my tightly and kissing my cheek.
Alys Lofric, District Twelve Female, 16 years old
Nobody comes to visit me, though I can't say I'm too surprised. Nobody's going to go and visit one of the District's prostitutes before she's sent off to the Hunger Games to be thrown into an arena and kill or be killed.
Instead, I look around the room and evaluate my chances.
I think I'd be able to give it a good go because, at the end of the day, that's all I can do. I heard my district partner, Cadin, mutter under his breath as we entered the Justice Building something about me getting sponsors and I hope his conclusion is true. If I get sponsors then my chance is increased.
I know I don't want an alliance - that just makes things messy. I'm not, however, afraid to use what I know to prevent me from getting killed.
I know I'm not gonna be staying around the Cornucopia for long - I think I'll grab something from the edge and run. Greed is what kills most tributes every year.
I sigh as I sit back on the velvet couch. This is going to be a long few weeks and it'll most likely be all for nothing.
Cadin James, District Twelve Male, 14 years old
Not all of my family come to visit me, only my older sister. That hurts a little, but what do I expect? As I said, I'm of the least priority to my father.
She says he's looking after my younger brothers, making sure they're okay. Apparently when they were asked whether or not they wanted to see me they started crying, so he took them home. I can't say I blame him - I think seeing my younger brothers cry might make me feel even more upset about the whole situation I'm in.
My sister and I both know my chances and neither of us attempt to big them up or, on the other hand, weaken them. We both know if I play my cards right I'll be able to live for a long time in the arena. I just need to focus, take each day as it comes.
"Maybe be like you usually are throughout the pre-game period," My sister says, referring to my usually immature personality, "That way they might underestimate you."
I nod as she continues.
"That way, if you do end up killing anyone, it'll be more of a shock and maybe you'll be likeable in the Capitol then."
I nod again, taking her strategy in. I don't know how well it'll work, but it's better than nothing.
She doesn't make me promise to return because she, like I, has probably accepted that the chances of me returning are slim.
All of the District-esque stuff is done! Now onto the Capitol!
The way the goodbyes are going to work is: odd numbered districts will be in the perspective of the male tribute and even numbered districts will be in the perspective of the female tribute.
As I've said before, I've already got the death order tentatively decided in my head as well as some alliances beyond the Careers, so in the goodbyes you might get sneak peeks! (Can't promise though, I don't even know myself!)
As always, reviews make me happy~!
- Oli