The Past. 74th Hunger Games: Training Days

In the evening, me, Thresh and the Mentors had dinner with the Prep team, in our apartment–more like our prison, however big and white the rooms were. My stylist was a very young man with curly blonde hair. He paced about, while I tried to eat less than on the train, waving his hands like a windmill. I'd asked Seeder if all the stylists were like him, she'd said, pretty much.

"I thought you were marvellous in the Parade, Rue. The sense of of wide-eyed innocence…like a little fairy princess. I'm seeing you as pure, delicate fairy, beyond every sorrow of this tragic world–" Heads turned as Thresh burst out laughing, "Excuse me?"

"Fairy? She an Eleven, got soil in her blood. Smiles when she happy, eat when she hungry, cry when she sad. As much of a fairy as me."

"Hey, Rue." Seeder's voice was quiet, "What's your favourite thing?" I said music, without hesitating. "Then sing for us, please."

I stood up. My voice wobbled, but then I lost myself in singing. In the true world that ought to be; the lovely place where singing with spirit takes me.

Why should I feel discouraged?

Why should the shadows come?

Why should my heart be lonely?

And long for my dear home?

When Jesus is my portion,

My constant friend is He.

His eye is on the sparrow

And I know he watches me.

I sing because I'm happy

I sing because I'm free.

For His eye is on the sparrow

And I know He watches me…

When I finished, I saw Thresh was looking like he'd never looked on me before. Like a single look wasn't enough for him.

"That was…so divine!" The Stylist wiped his eyes. "I promise I'll make you lots of beautiful dresses! Everyone will see that you should have a chance to live!"

"You do that, Carollius," Seeder murmured, "Rue, keep the sweet and innocent ready for your interview. Rule One, get noticed. Get the Sponsors you need to survive."

Something twisted inside me. Mama had warned me not to do anything wrong, even for my life. If I played a dear little moppet for Capitol women to squeal over, wouldn't I be playing along with their twisted game? And what would they want from me next?

"Mrs Seeder, maybe I don't need Sponsors. I'm good at finding food, and used to being hungry, or cold–"

"That so? What did you do in training today?"

"Played on the climbing nets and monkey bars. It was real fun, and you said about getting noticed."

"True, but don't forget Rule Two. Don't get noticed."

"Huh?"

"You showed every Tribute you can climb like a squirrel. They'll have guessed you plan on hiding up a tree–but you'll be starting the games right beside them. Regular Tributes mightn't kill a twelve-year-old, not on day one. But the Careers don't care about that. If they target you in the Bloodbath–you're dead.

"Well, I'm fast too. If I run–"

"–If you run without getting a pack. With no blanket, no iodine tablets. Then you'll be dead within days, girl, unless you got Sponsors to send what you need."

"But you told me I needed allies. You said, I'd have to show them I wasn't a burden..."

"Show me. You've got to show yourself off, without showing yourself; I'll leave you to figure that one out." Seeder gave me a hard stare, as she picked a little meat off her plate. I didn't feel so good no more. "At least you've learnt Rule One, Two and Zero. Rule Zero being, don't trust anybody."

That was when Thresh said a bad word, and threw a glass at the wall.

"Women, huh?" Chaff stood up as Thresh did, "You better learn to never get fooled by them, boy."

"Guess she's a Mentor. Not a useless drunk."

"Well then, let's do some Mentoring. Keep looking big and scary, don't talk more than needed. Don't touch the wrestling or boxing stations, so no one sees how you never needed to fight before now. We'll spend evenings practising those together. How about it?"

Thresh followed Chaff out the room. Inside a second, there were crashes and grunts from a very destructive fight.

"Huh. Boys." Seeder grinned at me. I barely managed to grin back, longing for my dear home already.

–0–

I spent that next morning sneaking among the climbing frames and heaps of weapons, getting a look at all the Tributes. Mostly they were normal kids, drifting round the grey cubicles with closed-up faces, trying to look tough. Underneath I was sure they were missing their families and scared of dying, just like me.

I could spot the Careers; they didn't look afraid. They laughed as they swung blades about, eyeing the others like foxes looking on a flock of grousling. I had to remember they were kids too. They surely had families who loved them–could've volunteered for their families' sakes, like Katniss.

But her grey eyes weren't cruel, or closed. They flickered over all about her, wary without hardness, strong in herself. As she crouched by the snare station to knot two ropes, I couldn't see a bit of fear in her looks. Just from watching her, I was barely afraid myself, almost excited, like the fire from her dress had caught in me. The Games weren't weighing on her like the rest. I was sure no horror they might bring could ever cage her spirit; just like the lovely gold Mockingjay on her shirt.

But she never seemed to talk with anyone. Some of the other Tributes were trying to chat a little, but Katniss seemed set apart. She only smiled for her Partner, but not so often–and if Billy Joe had ever looked at me like I saw Peeta gaze after her, I'd skip. I was sure Katniss had a wealth of smiles for the little sister she'd volunteered for. But this wasn't where her sister was, this was the Hunger Games. She surely wouldn't–shouldn't–let a scared Eleven stop her getting home to her sister alive.

So I just kept my distance, warming myself faintly from her courage and strength. I knew how Mockingjays flit off into the sky away from anyone they didn't know and trust. I think she caught me watching her, once or twice, but she never tried talking to me. If I'd tried talking with Katniss, and she'd pushed me away, I'm sure I'd have fallen to pieces. I needed to hope for her smile–that she'd comfort and help me like a big sister, the only one in this terrible place who could. I had to believe in her. I had to make myself trust Thresh; he was my Partner, all I had left of home. But he was too silent to be much comfort. Like he didn't believe that any words in the world would help us. As for the other Tributes, they were too scared or blustering for me to sense any kindness there. Mama and Mrs Seeder had both told me not to trust them, and I'm ashamed to say that I didn't try speaking to one.

So I sat on the end of a table at the meals, getting more and more lonesome in a crowd of people. Back home I'd be telling Jim to not spill his food, telling Holly about the best spots for gathering, or helping Mama clean up the baby. Or at school, I'd be talking with Jessie about the birds we both loved, or we'd listen to Ginny going on about the Mayor's daughter's new dress. My folks always said I was a girl who'd never want for friends, but now they were gone, and all my friends too, even my sibs. I felt like my voice was bound in silence just like my body was in prison.

I couldn't go back, but I wanted to, so much. I wanted to rest in sunny trees with my Mockingjay friends. Then sprint down the dusty road home until Pa scooped me up in his arms. I wanted to see old Mr Hayseed the village pastor, like we always did every Sunday, and hear him say once more and again how the Lord's our help in times of trouble. I was praying every night and morning to God that he'd tell me what to do, how I might live. I'd just got back that I should stay happy like Papa said, not do anything wrong, like Mama said, and just have faith that He'd see me through. But as the silenct, lonesome days went on it got harder to be cheerful or brave. Harder to even hear Him say anything at all.

–0–

More than anything, I wanted Katniss to notice me as an ally (I wished we could be friends, but in a death game that couldn't be). I had to show her my skills without showing the Careers. Pretty simple, really, but I didn't do it until the third day. Mama and Pa had told me not to, I'd said I was sorry for stealing before…but I'd had to get food for Albert and Pet. Even if it was a little wrong, I thought I had to do it, if I wanted to ever see Mama and Pa again.

I watched Cato, the Two Career, whenever his partner Clove wasn't around. I saw him put the knife aside that he'd used to stab a dummy right through, and then wander off to get some other weapon. The boy from Four was on the station, but he was watching the pretty girl from One. In a shake of a lamb's tail, I'd snatched up the knife Cato had left, hopped onto a table, then onto a wall between Knives and Swords, and to the rafters in a single jump.

When Cato came back, he got real mad with the boy from Four. I would've been terrified of him looking up and seeing me, but Katniss had noticed what I'd done. Her dark eyes held a hint of admiration, but then I put a finger to my mouth, and she smiled. If I had to die here, I felt I could die in peace now, because I wasn't alone. Katniss had smiled like she cared about me, and I smiled back with joy in my heart.

(Cato killed the Four boy in the Bloodbath. I told myself he'd been a Career, a murderer like Cato was. It had been a bit wrong, but not real murder, and I'd finally done something so I'd live).

–0–

I sort of fell in love with my interview dress. It was lighter and smoother than I'd thought fabric could be; it almost floated around my body. With the little wings like a butterfly angel, I felt like I could get up on my toes, and flit up and away through the air. Away from the Capitol, and everything in it. For a minute, I wasn't scared at all, wearing that dress. But Mrs Seeder said I should look a little scared, so the Sponsors would feel protective.

"Remember it's not faking, because you are scared, ain't you? You've just been pretending you ain't, like everyone pretends. Remember out there, you're a little scared, but still plucky and courageous anyway. And so innocent, even butter wouldn't melt in your mouth." Then she had to tell me what butter was. "I tell you give them a song, but you won't have time for anything but questions. So give them a song for your victory interview."

"Mrs Seeder! You don't think…?"

"Stealing that knife, you convinced me, girl. With Two going after Four in the Bloodbath, you'll have every chance of getting away. Pure genius."

"Um, I just wanted Katniss to notice me."

"Oh, you really are innocent, girl." Seeder gave me her kind, motherly smile, "You know if Twelve does win the Games, she'll most likely end up just like me in fifty years?" I didn't want to imagine it. "But I can't see you going that way, Rue. You've got a real beauty and gentleness in you. I don't believe even the Games will take that, however they fall out."

"Mrs Seeder–"I pressed into her, and she hugged me gently, so my dress wasn't damaged. She really did still have a caring heart in her, somehow.

"Just do one thing for me Rue?" I nodded gladly, "Don't say anything in your interview about District Eleven, or your family–you'll seem like a human instead of a fairy. And please don't say anything about God. The Capitol folk don't go in for such things at all. Please, Rue. You ought to have a chance."

I nodded again. Not realising then how she'd played me like a tune.

So on interview night, I waited in the wings with all the silent kids in pretty clothes. Finally I went onto the stage, in front of the famous Mr Flickerman, and the horribly glaring lights. All the hundreds of audience in the darkness went hushed together when I appeared. My heart soared. I stepped forward lightly.

It really seemed quite magical. With so many eyes giving me so much attention, it was real wonder and awe that made my own eyes so wide. Somehow I wasn't alone, but still apart from these folk with their violent wantings. Out of their world, like a real fairy; every step I took was ready for leaping up into a tree, into the sky. Somewhere there was my home, and the apple trees I loved to climb; somewhere there was a horrible game of death. But in this show full of laughter and soft fabrics, neither place seem any more real than a dream.

I knelt on the interview chair, back straight, looking up. Instead of my accustomed grin, a little ladylike smile. I told the nation how amazed I was with the Capitol and all their wonders. How I had skills I would use to survive, to give the audience lots of fun. I was a little scared, a little cheeky. I did everything to get those cooing, gaudy folk on my side, short of thanking them for coming to watch me get slaughtered. I played the sweet little fairy they wanted for their Game, just like Mama had told me not to. But I'd even do a little wrong, for a chance to see her again. A dangerous course, but there was nothing but danger in the Hunger Games.

I still felt pretty low and guilty when it was over, especially watching Thresh go up in his lovely white suit. He barely said a word, whatever Mr Flickerman asked, and I knew it wasn't an angle. It was him, not playing the Games. I knew the Careers had tried to ally with him, and he'd said no. I might have a flighty sort of energy, but Thresh was solid as a mountain; he'd held the right way better than me. I just hoped, whatever happened in the Games, that I didn't let myself do any more wrong than I had.