Once we get back to the apartment, I try to head to my room. That doesn't work very well because it is quiet there. If I cannot stand one thing, it is quiet. I step out of my room and into the hallway, trying to figure out where to go. I hear the voices of Lacey and Enobaria in the main room and I hear the refrigerator door slam, a sign of Brutus. I see Cato's light on from underneath the door. I tiptoe over to the door and quietly knock. I don't have to wait long before he answers the door, ushering me in.
"Hey. How was training today?" He asks, kissing my forehead. I take a quick glance around his room, noticing it has the same layout as mine.
"Okay." I stop the conversation there. I don't really want to talk about training. I notice some papers on his nightstand and walk over to them, picking them up off the table.
"What are these?" I ask, looking through them. All of them look like mutts, each scarier than the other.
"Just some drawings I found in one of the drawers. I don't know what they are or how they got there. Maybe a past tribute?" He says, coming up behind me. I don't put them down though. Something looks familiar about the drawing of the shark, but with two large fangs in the middle that look to be dripping something, probably poison, and it is shooting out of the water like a dolphin. The next one does too, a snake tunneling through the ground with markings of a butterfly. But that wasn't the scary part; it had to be around six feet tall, the size of a person. The other one I don't know and the one after that either.
I put them back down on the table, but before I do, the light catches the paper. Something clicks in my head and suddenly I remember where these are from. These are drawings of mutts that have been in the 71st and 72nd arenas. The 73rd, last year's, was terribly boring because with four days everyone died of natural causes. We were told to prepare for easier natural conditions this year because of last year's mistake. They need to make it up, so we are also expecting more weapons at the Cornucopia. Wonderful for me.
"I think this one is this year's mutts," I tell Cato. I put the three others back down and hold just the one, a picture of a huge snarling dog.
"That doesn't look too bad," he says, taking it from my hand and taking a closer look.
"Are you kidding me? Mutts are terrible in any situation!" I exclaim, but not too loud. I don't want anyone to find us with these.
"Well, we could have the giant shark," Cato says. I sigh.
"Hey, let's just forget about these." Cato places all the pictures underneath his mattress. How couldn't he not want them? These could be the keys between us winning and losing. Studying these creatures and learning how best to kill them! Any advantage is the best advantage. That is why we train.
"I don't see why you aren't concerned. We are going in an arena to fight to our death in a couple of days! No matter what happens one of us will die. We have to prepare better than this, focus is our best attribute. Without that, we aren't really Careers, are we?" I grit my teeth, tears stinging my eyes.
I hate a lot of things; idiots, people that don't take me seriously, quiet, people that show me up, quiet, and optimists. The Hunger Games are not just my entire life's training, but a test. Our district has shown us to be emotionless, fearless. It takes everything you hate and puts them into about a couple months' time span. You have to deal with them or you die. You have to work with things you hate. But most of all, you can't show anyone what you are really thinking when pinned with no way of escape or running out of food. Emotions ruin people. But right now, I'm being ruined by emotion. I'm falling to myself, the worst way.
I compose myself, take a deep breath, and remember the way to counteract anger. Discouragement. Maybe you aren't the victor. Maybe you're wrong and you aren't the best. Well, yeah I am, but I'll go with it for now. Now, the way of dealing with others. He's content, so let's show him boredom.
"But, whatever. Just another day in the life." I say, fixing my shirt.
"See ya." I walk away from him before he has time to think of a response. I close the door myself and only then do I let myself smirk. I have to say, I turned that terrible situation into a wonderful one. Just another example of my manipulative skills that I'm very fond of. I don't feel bad about them for a minute. Plus, we're Careers. By tomorrow, it'll be back to rainbows, sunshine, and weaponry.
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