District 7: Sunday Lancast's POV
"Average, Lancast, average at best," Ross Hallen sneers at me and my almost flawless shot. It only missed the target by a millimeter and that is an exaggeration. Of course, perfection is the only thing that matters to Ross. It had to be on in the center of the red or it was an embarrassing miss. "What if that happens in the arena, you missing by that much? That will give the person you were shooting at the prime opportunity to take you out. You need focus."
I think of many vile and threatening things to say to Ross, but I keep them to myself like I have been doing for the time we have worked together. I believe our partnership walks on a thin line. We both have a mutual hatred for each other, but he can show this feeling at will while I am forced to keep quiet at risk of losing him and his abilities. Ross is the only boy is District 7 who takes the Games as more than a funeral for twenty-three or twenty-two kids. He is also the only boy in District 7 who knows how to handle a weapon.
It has been a little less than a year since he started helping me train. After my sister died, I watched my pleasant little life crumble in front of me. Suddenly, avenging my sister's death was the only important aspect of my life. Ross mocked me for it, but he also agreed to help me carry out my goal with payment of course. Having to spend everyday with him isn't a picnic, but it is better than going into the arena blind.
I pick up another knife and take a shot. Now it is noticeably bad and barely in the red. I see Ross roll his eyes and cross his arms, a clear sign that he is aggravated. People not doing as he instructs is a pet peeve of Ross's. He doesn't say anything this time and waits for me to get another weapon. I do and this time my shot looks perfect again. At least perfect enough for Ross to relax slightly.
He walks over and takes his knife from my hands. "It looks like you are as good as you are going to get, I suppose. There is not much else I can do with the Reaping tomorrow. You have been my best student Lancast." I look at him skeptically. Ross has never given me anything close to a compliment before and calling me his best student does not sound very insulting. "Of course, you're the only person I have ever taught."
I nod and roll my eyes. It was stupid of me to think Ross would ever compliment me. Even at fourteen, he still knows how to build someone up then tear them down in a matter of minutes. Still, he has helped me more than he knows. The idea is only now settling in my mind that I am going to volunteer tomorrow and I will most likely never see Ross or this place again. I don't know which I will not miss more.
The idea of volunteering and being in the Games doesn't scare me as it had a few months ago, but one thing still makes me feel uneasy about the whole thing, something the old Sunday would be objective to doing. "Will it make me a bad person, killing someone?" I ask Ross. I regret the question the minute I'm going asking as Ross begins to chuckle.
"Of course it will," Ross answers with a smile on his face. "Don't you wonder why I have never volunteered? I still don't even see why you're doing it. You'll be dead before the first few days are over."
"Why is that?" I ask through gritted teeth. I believe Ross has been waiting for my worries to finally show and I have been waiting for him to tell me why he doesn't think I will win. I know I won't, but it is good to here a second opinion.
Ross begins to laugh again. "Because you do everything you're told, more so since you changed into a fighting machine. Every time I told you to do something, no matter how ridiculous, you'd do it. You have a great shot, but whenever I told you to make it better you would try your hardest to do so. In the arena, someone could tell you to stand still and you would happily oblige. I can't believe you don't even know it about yourself."
He has been testing me this whole time. I knew Ross could sink low, but he has basically been playing me this whole time for money and a few laughs. "You know Ross; there is something I have been wanting to give you since we started." I lean in slightly and Ross follows, wanting whatever I have to give him. I lean a bit more and then spit at his feet. He snaps up with a look of disgust on his face. "I told you I spit on the ground you walk on."
I turn my back and start walking away, only slightly worried Ross will catch up to me. "You won't last a week Sunday!" he yells at me. I just shake my head and keep walking, finally feeling a bit of power over Ross.
"Well aren't you king of the world," I say sarcastically to Todd who is at the very front of the ship and leaning a bit over the railing. I haven't seen him all day and as night begins to fall, I feel a bit uneasy. My curiosity is killing me and now I have to ask, "Where have you been?" Todd steps back a little and turns to me.
"I had some things to take care of. You were absent from the feast," he remarks. I feel my blood start to boil. It is so like him to bring my question right back to me. Never answering anything and expecting me to share my life story, he is just like Ross. I hate to feel so intimidated with tons of anger building inside me.
"I thought it wasn't worth it, okay," I snap, my patience breaking. "You didn't directly answer my question. Where the hell where you all day? I thought allies were supposed to stick together or are you backing out?"
Todd smiles and shakes his head at me. "Oh Sunday, always so over-dramatic. Why would I back out of our alliance? What good would that do either of us? Just the same as me telling you the long boring details of what I have been doing won't do anything for you. Now as wonderful as our little catch-up time had been, I have to go. You know, people to trick and supplies to borrow. Why don't you stay here?"
I narrow my eyes at him. "Or I can come with you. Allies are also supposed to help one another, right?"
"I agree completely, but deceiving is a tricky craft and only one a skilled professional can carry out properly. I should be back soon. Why don't you watch our supplies?" Before I can object again, he drops his backpack and disappears in the darkness, leaving me alone again. I sigh bitterly and drop my own pack. I sit down and put my head in my hands. I don't cry, I will never cry, but I do mutter incoherent words to myself.
"-everything you're told."
Ross's voice rings in my ears as well as the image of Todd and his belief I am completely useless. I take my head out of my hands and stand up. I only bother taking my own pack with me and leave Todd's behind. Proving Ross and Todd wrong will be difficult, but I think I'm up for the challenge. After all, allies today will be gone by tomorrow.
District 7: Steam Trace
I can't help, but admire the pair from District 14 as I watch them on the deck below. The two have worked out a pretty sturdy alliance. They are less than friendly with each other, going as far as the girl being slightly cruel with the boy. However, they work well together and really do rely on each other. At the moment, the girl is taking her shift as guard while the boy dozes off on one of the deck chairs. The girl shrugs her shoulders uncomfortably and stifles a yawn. Though I know she knows it is against her better judgment, she leans back against her partner, who is now fast asleep. I let the two enjoy the brief moment, remembering what is like being with Jasper, before drop a bit of bread on the girl's cheek. I want them to stick around for awhile.
I duck away from the ledge for I'm sure by now the girl has regained focus and is looking for the person who dropped the piece of bread. By the looks of the girl, I would be dead before I could even get out a sentence of my explanation. I walk away from them and towards the front of the ship where I happen upon the control room. I test the knob and find the room is open I walk inside, but cautiously. This could be a Capitol trap or even a tribute one.
I relax, though not completely, when nothing immediately pops out at me. I walk further into the room and observe some of the equipment. It looks like the person in this room could control the ship, but I doubt a tribute could tamper with it. The Capitol is too smart to let that happen. A tribute might crash it into an iceberg or something.
"Cool, isn't it?" a small voice says. I whip around to see my own District partner, Sunday, standing in the doorway. She had no pack and there is no sign of a weapon. She looks lost, scared, and more like a thirteen year old than she has in a long time. It is a surprise to see her. I haven't said more than two words to her since we got to the Capitol and I never considered allying with her. I wonder who she has allied with.
"Um, how are you?" It is the only thing I can think to say. I don't know the first thing about this girl beside the fact her sister died last year and she is rumored to be kind of crazy. Her lack of weapons is a good sign, but I don't want to find out she has one hidden.
Sunday suddenly breaks into loud sobs and I am in between putting my hand over her mouth and comforting her. Just like the girl from 14, I ignore my better judgment and go to put my arm around her. She is still crying, but now it is only soft whimpers. I don't really know what to do now, but let her finish crying. "There, um, there." I am careful not to let this girl steal all my attention. We are now sitting ducks and there is no way to get out of this room if an enemy comes in.
"I don't have anything," she says in a raspy whisper. "I have no one to help me. I have no supplies. I'm going to die, going to die." Her crying begins to grow in volume again and quickly drop my pack and my arm from her shoulder. I rummage through my pack quickly and pull out a piece of cloth I rip from my extra shirt and a small piece of bread that helped my hit the girl in the cheek before.
"Here you go," I say, pushing them into her two tiny hands. For some reason, she begins to cry more. Sunday uses the piece of cloth to wipe her puffy, red eyes, but doesn't eat the bread. Instead, she throws the soggy cloth to the ground and throws her arms around me. My body becomes tense and I don't return her gesture.
"Steam," she whispers in my ear in a now clearer voice. I notice one of her arms is no longer wrapped around my neck. "You are so stupid." I don't even catch the whole sentence when I feel a bony fist hit me right in the middle of my stomach. I stumble back in pain and nearly fall to the ground. I hear Sunday now laugh in almost a maniacal way and helplessly watch as she swings her pack around her shoulder. She races out the door and slams it closed. She runs by the large glass and grabs another pack, her own. She gives me a small wave and a toothy grin before running off.
As soon as the pain in my stomach subsides, I am at the door, yanking it with all my might. It won't budge a bit. I am having trouble believing the door locks on the outside, but all evidence points to that fact. Sunday wouldn't have had time to jam it. I try the door a few more times, but it is utterly hopeless. My attention turns to the glass window.
The window stretches across the whole top of the front wall and gives a good view of the ocean before the ship and the deck. I tap on it lightly, than harder. The glass is thick, so thick that if I broke it myself, I would most likely bleed to death. It would be pointless trying to break it with something in the room. Almost everything is stuck to the floor and the things that aren't are too heavy for me to lift by myself.
I find myself going to the far corner of the small room, besides some machinery and a wall. I sink down and bring my knees to my chest. I tell my self it is so passing tributes won't seen me, but I think it is my body's way of telling me it is giving up. After only ten minutes of trying to think of a plan, I am reducing to tears, thinking of only how I have let down Jasper.
…
Sorry this chapter isn't that great, but I just finished finals week and I am a bit brain dead. Anyway, remember, guest chapters our due in about a week and a half. The rules are on the previous chapter. The event above is also the third thing you can't change.
Capitol Question of the Day: Sunday: evil genius or creepy psycho?
Reviews would be lovely. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.
-Emma