Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.
A/n: Apparently, the chapter titles have to be short. This is unfortunate, given my theme of chapter titles and will therefore require some creative editing on my part. That's why the chapter title here may not match the one in the bar thing.Also, update times will be sporadic. Sorry. Still, I hope you enjoy.
2) True Goodbyes are the Ones Never Said or Explained.
I tune out after the first few sentences. The mayor reads the same thing every year and since it's history, it hasn't changed much. Even if there were new discoveries, this is Panem's history so they won't be mentioned. Another disaster which can be added to the list.
At the end, the mayor reads out the names of our victors. We have three which is particularly unimpressive although better than Districts 9 and 12 at least. Then he steps back and Aculeo steps forward. The majority of district escorts tend to be scarily happy people who present the Games like some kind of show. Not Aculeo. He's been our escort for over fifteen years and doesn't enjoy the job at all. He's tall and thick-set. If it wasn't for the stupid tattoos covering his arms, he'd look menacing: if I were to face him in a dark alleyway at night, I'd probably run the other way.
I have a feeling he's either bitter that he's never moved from District 5 or he's trying to get fired. If I were him and I were trying to get fired, I'd do something really drastic such as punch one of the tributes. This is probably why no one in their right mind would make me a District Escort.
"Happy Hunger Games," he growls which seems like a complete contradiction to me. Both the tone and the words. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 67th Reaping." He surveys us as though expecting someone to object. When no one does, he walks over to the glass bowls. "May the odds be ever in your favour," he says before plunging his hand into one of the bowls. He hasn't even told us which gender he's pulling out so I hope it isn't a name which can be either gender. That would just be confusing.
"Mattis Lough," he shouts. Beside me, I feel some of the boys sagging with relief. They're safe for one more year. I can't help feeling slightly jealous – I wish I could have the same sense of relief. But then I remember that if this boy is being called, Leo's also safe. I should focus on what I have, not what I haven't. I have a safe brother. That's what matters right now.
A boy emerges from behind me. He looks slightly older than my brother. I can see him trembling as he walks up the stairs to the stage. His face is pale and terrified when he turns to us.
"Are there any volunteers?" Aculeo asks somewhat threateningly. The air is filled with silence. "Congratulations, Mattis Lough." He sticks his hand out violently and Mattis jumps backwards, probably thinking this is the first test of the Games. Tentatively, he shakes hands with Aculeo who directs him to the mayor and then the victors.
Once he's done, Aculeo turns back to the bowls and plunges his hand into the other one. I clench my fist. I desperately want to pray that it won't be me but, of course, if my name is on there now then all the praying in the world will be meanin-
"Anfisa Lensfield."
-gless.
People around me jump away as though I have some form of infectious disease. Enya reaches her hand towards me and then pulls it back again, her face covered in shock. Numbly, I start forward, not caring if people are in my way or not. There is some part of me which is telling me this isn't happening and I will wake up soon. But I know that this isn't a dream and the rest of me is simply on shut-down to stop me from doing something I'll regret later.
I pass through the eighteen year olds. I don't see my sister.
Finally, I climb onto the stage and look at the crowd. People's faces blur into one. It's hard to think straight when you're emotional. I don't even know what I'm looking for in the crowd but I keep looking.
People aren't rational. Nor am I.
"Are there any volunteers?" Aculeo barks. For a moment, I hope that Erica will volunteer. But no one speaks. With that silence, I am condemned to be in the Hunger Games. "Congratulations, Anfisa Lensfield."
Aculeo holds his hand out and I quickly grasp it, determined not to make Mattis' mistake. Then he motions for me to shake hands with the mayor and the victors. I do so quickly and turn back. The mayor begins to read out the Treaty of Treason. I use this time to get my thoughts in order.
These are the things I know:
1) I'm going to be in the Hunger Games. The probability of winning them is low; I'm probably going to die. Violently.
2) My older sister didn't volunteer for me. I'll have to say goodbye to my family, knowing she could have saved my life.
I decide to put them in perspective before I can completely flip out which would probably startle everyone nearby.
1) The probability of living to the age of seventeen isn't particularly high so that's a pretty big achievement in itself. If I work on the same probability then my chances of winning the Games are the same as my chances of living this long. I managed that so this shouldn't be any scarier.
2) I don't know if I could have volunteered for Erica but now that I know one of us was going to be in the Games, I'm quite relieved that it's me. I never had the choice and if she'd volunteered, I couldn't have taken any choice to save her. I would have had to watch as she gave up her life for mine which is pretty much the same as if I hadn't volunteered for her. But I would have regretted it later. This way, there are no regrets. And the more I think about it, the more I know that if I had a completely concrete choice of me or her living, I would choose her. Now that I know what it feels like to know I'm going to die. (Except if I look at answer one, I'm not going to die so this is really confusing me now).
"Tributes, shake hands," the mayor says and I realise that I've successfully ignored the entire Treaty of Treason. I turn to face Mattis Lough who now looks like he wants to throw up. I consider him properly, for the first time. He's tall and thin with the same angular face as most of us, brown eyes and short, black hair. We stick our hands out at the same time, hitting each other on the fingertips. Without meaning to, I catch his eye and we both smile as we finally master the difficult task of a handshake. He looks a bit more normal with a smile on his pale face. And friendlier.
The mayor ends the ceremony and orders us to head towards the Justice Building. Mattis catches my eye again and jerks his head in its direction. I follow him. Neither of us speaks as we're shepherded inside towards separate rooms and told we have one hour to say our goodbyes but he smiles shakily at me. I smile back, a second too late, and walk into my room.
I think I'm going to like Mattis Lough.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
I don't have to wait long for my family to arrive. They come in to find me absent-mindedly stroking the velvet curtains because I've never actually seen it this close before and it's really soft. When I turn to face them, I see that Leo has been crying. Looking at him makes my eyes sting so I switch my gaze to Erica who is looking at everything except me. I can't help feeling that as goodbyes go, this is going to be a terrible one.
"Hi," I say.
This turns out to be too much for them - my father comes over to me and hugs me tight while my mother turns pale.
"It's going to be alright," he whispers, just like he did when I was younger. I can't help it; I wrap my arms around his thin body and bury my face in his chest. I feel another set of arms wrap around me and hear my brother whisper that he won't let me die. I start crying.
I don't want to die. I want to grow up with my family and get a job and have kids. Live happily. I don't want to die just so a few Capitol citizens can get their kicks. I don't want to leave my family.
My dad and brother don't give up their hold on me until I've finally stopped sobbing. I feel as though I'm ten again.
My mother strokes my hair. "I know you'll be fine," she says which is clearly a lie. But for my mom to lie is quite a feat and I love her for doing it.
"I'm sorry," I say.
"Don't be," Erica says. She forces herself to look at me. "Anfisa, I-"
"Don't," I say. "Don't worry about it." I reach out and grab her arm. "I didn't want you to."
"But-"
"Please don't."
She gives up. I know I should let her say that she's sorry but I just can't. I want us to be the family where we care so deeply that she'd know I don't want her to give up her life for mine. I don't have that family but I want to. So I guess I'm guilty of being irrational too – I'm giving myself happiness based on what I don't have.
Mom comments that we don't have much time left. I look at them.
"Guys, I..." I don't know how to say this. I don't know what the right words are. "I just wanted to ... I love you. You were always there for me and ... I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," Mom says. "We love you, no matter what happens in there."
Erica hugs me tightly. "I've always said you were a muppet," she whispers, "but I want you to come home."
"How rude," I whisper back but instead of laughing, tears start to slide down my cheek. She lets go of me. Our faces match. For once in our lives.
Leo's barely let go of me for the entire time and now, he squeezes me so hard that I worry he'll break my ribs. "I don't want you to go," he says.
"I don't want to go."
He kisses my cheek. "I'll be rooting for you," he tells me and I can see that he's trying to be tough and not cry.
Finally, Dad hugs me and kisses my forehead. "I guess all kids have to leave home sometime, huh?" He wipes one of the tears off my cheek. "I won't say goodbye because that means you're not coming back," he says. "So I'll just say, see you soon."
I don't know how to respond and before I can think of something, the Peacekeeper comes in and orders my family out. I don't even get the chance to say anything else about how I'll miss them or how much I love them.
I suppose they know it all already so it doesn't matter whether I said it or not. But I wanted to anyway.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Enya and the others come in next. I'm not really close to most of them but I suppose we're friends and friends come to say goodbye to friends who are going to die, so I don't comment on their presence. I'm surprised by how sombre they all look. I expected Enya to be upset but I thought that since I only know the rest of them through simply hanging around with them, they'd be less upset. After all, less emotional attachment – like how we weren't crying when a girl from our class was reaped five years ago. Turns out I was wrong then. I guess I've been wrong on a lot of things today.
Enya takes one look at my red eyes and loops her arms around me. Once she's let go, one of the guys sits next to me and puts his arm around my shoulders. After that, it's contagious. All seven of them have to hug me. I feel a bit like a soft toy but I don't tell them that because I think it's one of those things which will offend them. Especially if I die because they'll realise that the last thing they did to me was something which made me feel uncomfortable. I guess this is why people are disasters – we don't bother to work out how anyone feels about anything so we just decide we know.
"You can win this," Miri says to me after the hugs have stopped. "You're smart. You just have to out-think them all."
"And that Mattis kid doesn't look up to much."
I think of Mattis and his friendly smile and decide not to comment on this.
"So you'll be fine."
I open my mouth to thank them for their support (although, hopefully, in a less formal way), but Enya gets there first. "None of your crap about how unlikely it is and the odds and how it's better to be rational," she says firmly. "Just believe us."
Now that she's said it, I want to point out that this is giving us all false hope and it'll hurt when it fails but even I can't bring myself to do that. "OK." I say instead.
They keep giving me hints about how to deal with the arena. Some of them are serious and some of them are jokes. They're trying to treat this normally. I don't know if they're doing that for me or for them.
Eventually, Enya acknowledges that it is time for them to leave. I'll say this for them – I don't have the urge to cry anymore. Once again, mass hugging ensues. This is when it hits me that this will probably be the last time I ever see them again and I start squeezing back. But it isn't until I have to say goodbye to Enya that I start feeling like I'm going to cry again.
"I'll be watching you, Anfisa," she whispers. "In a non-sinister way."
And it's so much like her that I just have to laugh. "You've always known where I live," I say. She smiles. Her eyes look watery.
"I'll miss you. Come back soon, OK?"
I attempt to smile back. "I'll try."
The Peacekeeper raps on the door. They all trade looks and then walk out, wishing me good luck and telling me they'll see me soon, without letting me get a word in edgeways.
They will see me again. But I don't think I'll ever see them back.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
My next guests are a surprise – Mr Vale and Menna. He tells me he's sorry that this happened. For some reason, I tell him I'm sorry I can't babysit Menna. Understandably, he waves this away because it doesn't really matter anymore. Menna looks at me carefully but doesn't say a word.
For a minute, the three of us are silent. And then Mr Vale tells me they're both going to root for me and that he'll look out for my family – people in need should stick together, he says. It's a really kind thing for him to do because, frankly, I don't know him that well. But the Vales have one more trick up their sleeves.
"I guess we'd better go home," Mr Vale says. "Eh, Menna?"
"Are you going away?" Menna asks suddenly.
"Yeah." And then, even though I think lying to a child is wrong (I can't lie well anyway but kids tend to buy it more), I add, "I'll be home soon though."
In my situation, you're allowed to break the rules.
"But you're going to the Hunger Games," she says.
"Yeah but I'm not going to stay there, Menna. Just watch."
"What if you die?"
"Menna," Mr Vale says warningly.
"But she might!" Menna thinks for a moment and then uncurls her right hand. There's a small figurine of a rabbit there. She holds it out to me. "Take it."
"But it's yours," I say, successfully stating the obvious.
"Yeah. So if you take it then you gotta give it back," she says. "And that way you're not gonna die. 'Cause you got to give this back to me."
"She probably already has a district token," Mr Vale says, frowning.
"They won't notice this." Her voice, all this time, has been very calm and reasoned. I don't know if she's upset or not. But considering that she became an orphan two weeks ago, I feel somehow obliged to make sure she's happy.
"I don't have a token," I say, truthfully.
"So take it. Then you'll come back."
I look at Mr Vale. Like him, I don't think this is a good idea – if I die then she'll be really upset. But I don't know how to tell her this.
"I think I have some string, somewhere. I'll make it into a necklace. Hang on." He takes the rabbit which, I realise, does have a hole in its head for string. After a few seconds, he hands it over to me. "Here you go, Anfisa," he says carefully. I meet his eyes. He doesn't want to do this but he can't think of a way out either.
I take the necklace and loop it around my neck. It's a little tight but I don't mind. "Thank you, Menna," I say. "I'll keep it on."
She smiles, very slightly. I hug her but she doesn't respond. I don't know what's wrong with her but her behaviour is still scary. But when I glance at her uncle, I realise he now looks slightly triumphant and I realise that this must be the most response he's gotten out of her. So I suppose I did help, in the end.
After that, they leave me.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
I don't get many visitors after that – a few neighbours come in to wish me luck and leave just as quickly, probably in case I break down and they have to deal with it. I spend the last five minutes by myself which is good because it means I can attempt to make myself look less like I've been crying and more like someone who is ready for the Games. The least I can do is attempt to put some effort into this.
It occurs to me that in all of the conversations I've had, I never once actually said goodbye. This doesn't really make sense since the whole point of this hour was for me to say it. But somehow, people always left before I could get it out. Maybe it's like Enya said once. True goodbyes are the ones never said or explained. Since I never said it and I sure as hell never tried to explain the Hunger Games, it definitely sounds like what I've just been through. But that's crap because a goodbye is a goodbye whether you've said it or not. Maybe there's some kind of emotional attachment to the idea which I'm just not getting.
The Peacekeepers come in and tell me that it's time to go. I am walked to a car, as is Mattis. His eyes are red: he's been crying as well. We don't look at each other for the entire journey though I think this is because he is just as enthralled by the car as I am. Or maybe he's thinking about the people he's just said goodbye to.
At the station, the train has already arrived. Aculeo points out our compartments to us and tells us that lunch will be in half an hour. He stands and watches us. We go to our compartments in silence. Somehow, talking around this man seems like a very large mistake.
The compartment is big and filled with luxury items, most of which I've never actually seen up close. There's a shower in the compartment which I try out quickly because I've never used one before. The feeling of having light, warm water clean me is incredibly refreshing and if it weren't for the fact that I'm only experiencing it because of the Hunger Games, I think I'd really enjoy it.
I don't have a life anymore. I do have a shower. I suppose if happiness is measured on what I have, then unhappiness could be measured on what I don't have; unhappiness would outweigh happiness. But that's still irrational because now I'm just looking for excuses to be upset; not having a life just takes away from what I do have i.e. a shower. Although I don't really have the shower either since I don't own it. But I can use it at least.
For some reason, putting things into these perspectives really calms me down. I don't know why. Ever since I was little, I found that if I start to analyse things, I stop being upset. It makes me a pain to know but it's better than getting rid of anger by beating someone up. Not that my way will work in the Hunger Games. It'll probably be the psychopathic maniac who wins. But I don't want to be a psychopathic maniac so...
I realise that I'm supposed to be in the Dining Room now, having lunch. I quickly dress and run there. Aculeo is already there with Apa Jonquil and Oleander Nettle who I assume will be our mentors. Apa won the Fifty-ninth Games by hiding and setting traps. Oleander is old and our only male victor; he won the Twenty-second Games but I don't think I've ever seen a run of his Games so I'm not sure what he did. Neither of them is known for their kindness; I'm not expecting much in the way of being polite off them.
As soon as I sit down, Mattis runs in, gasping an apology. He looks around the room and then sits down next to me. None of the adults look impressed. I don't care. It's not them we need to impress.
Someone puts soup in front of us. Aculeo starts to eat so I pick up my spoon and eat as well. It's surprisingly tangy and refreshing and I find I don't want to stop spooning it down. I don't think I've ever tasted anything as nice as this before.
"So," Oleander says in a tired voice. "It's good to meet you ... Anfisa and Mattis, correct?" I nod, as does Mattis. "I'm Oleander and I'll be mentoring Mattis. Apa will mentor Anfisa. Aculeo will make sure we get to places on time." Aculeo nods to us. I don't know what to say. Nor does Mattis, apparently – he just looks at his soup. "Unless you want to be trained together? We don't recommend it."
I look at Mattis and I can see that he's having the exact same thought process as me – will it matter?
"Why don't you recommend it?" I ask.
"You'll know each other's secrets and tactics and that can disadvantage you in the arena," Apa says, speaking for the first time in a distant tone.
"I, er ... I d-don't think I have any secrets..."Mattis mutters. This is the first time I've heard him speak. He sounds nervous. The mentors look at him sharply and he sort of jolts. "I, er, that is ... I guess I could end up with some?" A look of panic is crossing his face. "Never mind," he adds. "I'd like to be trained separately." Then he sees me. "Er ... if you don't mind..."
I shrug. "I don't care. Sure – I'd like to keep my tactics which I don't actually have yet..."
Apa rolls her eyes. Oleander nods. "OK then. The table will be for general advice only."
As they bring on another course, Apa and Oleander tell us that we'll watch the Reaping re-caps in the evening but we should start thinking about our skills now. On that note, they'd like to see us in their separate compartments an hour after lunch. Aculeo barks out something about the Opening Ceremonies and how we need to be as compliant as possible. Finally, they let us go so they can talk with each other. I feel quite sick. I don't think the food's done me much good.
Once we're outside, Mattis turns to me. "I, er ... I don't think we've, um, met properly," he says. "I'm Mattis Lough."
"Anfisa Lensfield," I reply. There's an awkward silence. There's not much you can say to someone who you want to be dead within the next few weeks.
"Um ... I don't fancy my chances at this," he tells me after a few more seconds.
I shrug. "I don't know," I say.
There is more silence.
Mattis decides to break it again. "Um ... d'you want to bet?"
"On?"
He smiles. "Which one of us lasts longer? That includes winning, by the way." His voice is suddenly calmer.
"That's a bit morbid," I comment.
"I know. But putting things in terms of bets always calms me down. Lets me imagine it's all a game I can win," he says. Then he laughs. "It's working already – I stopped stammering!"
"Oh, yeah," I reply because I don't know what else to say. "That's weird."
He shrugs. "I get nervous easily. But I guess you're like me."
"Am I? I hope not."
His smile deflates and I instantly feel guilty for letting my tongue get away with me "Yeah, well ... you don't seem that confident either." I don't know what to say. He smiles again. "So, bet? Or not? Don't worry, if you lose, you don't have to pay."
It occurs to me that Mattis may not be entirely there. At the very least, he's worryingly comfortable with the idea of death. Still, I need a way to apologise so I shrug and hold out a hand. "OK," I say. "I bet I last longer than you do."
He grabs my hand and we shake. Then he looks around the train corridor. "D'you think we're meant to split up? Since we're being trained separately?"
"Probably." I shrug. "Doubt it matters much. I don't have any tactics right now. Do you?"
"No... but I don't think I want to get on their bad sides..." He pulls a face. "Poor you, getting Apa."
"Oleander isn't much better," I say bluntly. "He's old and hates people."
He winces. "You sure know how to put things nicely, Anfisa."
"Sorry."
He smiles. It suits him. It turns him from another starving teenager into someone who's alive. He's also talkative, I realise – this conversation is completely his creation. "I should take a leaf from your book. Become more assertive. That way, when I'm being speared, I'll sound tough as I die."
He says it so comfortably that it startles a laugh from me. "You don't think much of yourself, do you?" I ask.
"Nope. Let's see, if I'm changing, so are you." He studies me carefully. "Your voice and how you speak don't match," he says. "Make them match!"
"What are you talking about?"
"See!" He laughs. "You sound like you're from the Streets but then you talk really slowly and carefully, like you're from the Town." The Streets is the name of the poorer part of District 5.
"I am from the Streets."
"Alright, so talk more like it." He thinks for a moment. "Swear more."
"Why?"
"Make you sound tougher as well. We'll be the tough tributes from District 5!"
Stupid as it sounds, he's right. We always associate people who swear as being more dangerous. Probably because they're breaking some kind of taboo. So if I start swearing, along with my accent, I'd probably sound tougher than I do at the moment. But there's no point in trying to sound tougher because the only people I really need to scare will be the ones from Districts 1, 2 and 4 and to scare them, I'd probably need to weigh twice as much as I do now.
"No, thanks."
"Then I'll keep stuttering and they'll hate us both."
"Why would Apa like me more if I swore?"
"Because you'll be showing some toughness."
"If I agree to it, will you stop going on about it?"
"Yes."
"Fine."
He grins at me and I grin back. Maybe I am going to die in a few weeks. But I've made a new friend in the process. I guess things are never as bad as they seem.