Oh my god, so sorry for lack of updates [not sure if anyone has been following, buut XD]. I'll try to update more often, I've just been so busy [ this is a promise! ]. =[ Sorry guys and thank you readers! [Sorry if the story is moving slow now – I promise it'll get better soon as arena time comes.]
Annie POV
I face the panel of game-makers, my hands shaking and starting to sweat already.
I have no idea what to do – Finnick, Mags, and my escort all gave me advice, but none of it stuck with me. They all knew I have no remarkable talent, so what they could offer me was mediocre at most. They all told me to try my best, to dabble in all things and hope for the best. But I have no idea where to start… Careers earn 8s and 9s by amazing sword and knife talents, other tributes try to do the same but normally fail miserably and earn 3 and 4s. And then there's another option. I can always do nothing – though it may be a weak move in proving yourself to game-makers, it leaves you in a shade of mystery and shadow. Obviously, if I'm in District 4, people will expect me to be cold and eager with weapons. If I do nothing, many will assume it's because I'm hiding my talents and want other tributes to count me out.
It's selfish of me – but if I can't do much, might as well make people think that I can.
Though it's a hard thing to do, I simply stare at the makers and do nothing. I show no cracks in composure, no sign that I'm worried or afraid. I simply glare at them in cold silence, standing in the middle of the squishy gym mats spread out on the floor. Some of them stare at me, smirks on their disgustingly colorful faces. Others gaze at me in shock. Some simply continue loudly chewing their feast. After 5 minutes of my doing absolutely nothing, the lead maker begins to speak to me after letting out a squeaky laugh. "Are you going to do anything? If not, feel free to leave!"
Suddenly all my anger seems to release. These filthy game-makers – how many kids do they see each year? They could care less about each death. They have no compassion, no understanding. While they gorge themselves on luxuries and have a lot of life to look forward to, we have nothing. "Go to hell." I whisper it, and none of them seem to hear me. But I can tell from the anger, shallow surprise in the lead maker's eyes that he has. His cold gaze has me locked in place, and the other trainers start to tease me. "Can't you do anything? District 4? Throw a trident? Swim?" I snap back into place, and staring flimsily at the other makers, I answer in a rush. "I- no. I can't swim, or throw a trident.. I…," I run out of the training room and into the elevator, more ashamed of myself than anything. I just put the Head Game Maker against me. Everyone knows makers can kill tributes, if they want. You can do nothing about it – you may have just escaped a fight wound-less, and a game-maker decides to knock down a tree..? You're dead. I've almost guaranteed myself a painful and unpreventable death.
It snaps everything into place, into reality.
In a month, I will cease to exist. I'll be another tribute lost, another tribute forgotten. Perhaps, in the first year, my town will have a few memorials, but as more tributes die, they will slowly stop. Perhaps I will occasionally pop up in the mind of friends, but that too will stop with time. Finnick… I love him. I wish, hope, that he'll always love me too. But in truth, he could have anyone he wanted. In a few years, I'll be a distant, perhaps fond, memory. He'll have kids and a new wife by then. I'd like to think he'll never forget… but it's selfish to long for him to always hold on to me. In twenty years, I'll be a sweet childhood crush that he holds no importance to. My mother and father … of course they'll never forget me. But in a few years my Mother will die, my Father too; and as they age I'll be nothing more than a child they wish they didn't have to lose. In 5 years, no one will remember exactly what my face looked like. Or what my voice sounded like. Or what I loved, what I did, my hopes, my dreams.
It's terrifying how easily a human being can be erased.