Hey guys, sorry it took so long! I was really wrapped up in this one fanfic I was reading... So yea. And I know, I know. POV's next chapter. R&R
I am strolling through a forest. It is the most lush, greenery I have ever seen. A large tree comes into view and I feel the corners of my mouth tilt up. I start to climb the tree, the seemingly ruff bark smooth on my hands. When I am about 80 ft. up, I feel the branches retracting. The stumps that my feet were on disappear. The next thing I know, I am seeing myself screaming and falling back-first to the ground. Right before I land, I see myself stop. I don't see anyone, but I feel someone shaking my shoulders.
"Willow, wake up. It's just a dream." I open my eyes to Credinsa -already powdered and puffed- starring at me.
"Why are you up so early?" I say looking out the window to see that it's dawn. "I don't go to training until ten." I shove a pillow over my face.
"Today is the day-" She stops a moment. This is the day- what? "Today you go into the arena." She says pulling the pillow off my face. I glare at her.
"What are you talking about?" I ask slowly.
"Your interview was last night." She says.
"Oh." Is all I can manage. I've been dreading this day. A memory flashes back to me from Training.
"How have you been holding up?" I ask as he finishes tying a knot.
"Umm. You know. Just as any other tribute." Finnick says starring at the knot. He sighs. "I'm terrified."
"Now come on and get ready for breakfast." Credinsa says, snapping me back into reality. Gosh, I hate reality.
I dress in the same clothes as last night, sweat pants and a sweat shirt. I will be changing in the catacombs any way.
I know I will need my strength, so I eat as much as my queasy stomach will allow. Which isn't much. I am to distracted in thoughts that will be answered soon enough. What will the arena be like? Each time someone in my family entered the Games, the arena was almost exactly the same. My mom made me watch everyone's tapes -her's, grandma's, and Katniss and Peeta's- so I would be prepared. The only difference I noticed was the booby-traps. The terrain was the same, the tree's were the same. Sometimes I would think that they used the same exact arena Katniss and Peeta were in, but just 'improved' it.
I do have one advantage; I lied to the Games host. My mom didn't just teach me strategies, she trained me. She taught me how to use a crossbow as well as a regular bow. She knew I would be reaped one time or another, so she did whatever she could do for me. Until I was twelve. But that didn't bother me. When I was four I could hit a target dead center. But she also taught me hand-in-hand combat. As well as knife throwing. I am pretty decent with an ax, too. Now that I think about it, I could beat a career. I really could. Even if all I had to defend myself with was a mace.
I hope desperately that the arena will be a forest. That would be perfect, that's what I was trained in. My mother would take me out of the district and train me. It may have been illegal, but whatever. Rather be executed in my district than die in the Hunger Games.
Cecily says good bye, as well as Credinsa. Darious and his mentor are there too, which annoys me. I forgot his mentor's name, not like it will matter. Then our stylists lead us to the roof and onto a hovercraft. Once on, a lady injects us with our trackers. I already know everything that will happen, from my mother's Hunger Games stories. As well as my grandma's. I did meet Katniss, the last time when I was five right before she died. I remember something she told me for when I was in the Games. Feels like they all knew I would end up there.
"Only trust yourself." She had said this before drifting off to sleep. Peeta had died only a year before. I don't remember much of him, only this one memory of him teaching a four-year-old me how to kneed dough.
Tears cloud my vision at the thought of my family. I quickly swallow back the sobs and straighten myself up.
"Don't let them see your emotions." My grandma had said. And so I don't. I especially can't show Darious. All the other tributes are sitting in seats, strapped down, in the same room. They could certainly guess my weakness if I let the slightest glimmer of doubt show.
"Be fearless." My mother had told me the day before I went to live with my father. "And remember, we all love you, Willow." I shake my head so my now silky hair is in front of my face. The tears are coming back.
The whole ride to the arena only lasts an hour, but it feels like eternity. All the way there Ignigma is just starring at me. Finnick is starring at him, and I am starring at Finnick. I can literally smell the tension. Well, this is awkward. I think to myself. But honestly, I don't know what to think.
The windows black out and I know we are nearing the arena. Then I am certain when we land. All the tributes and their stylists are escorted out into a perfectly white room. It's kinda creepy with it's low ceiling and wide walls.
An avox leads Putra and me into the catacombs, and to my preparation room. The room is empty, except for a rack with my clothes on it, and a table holding a tray with two items on it. I don't really care what they are, I am to nervous and shaky.
Putra frowns when she see the clothes. "These are all made of heat reflectant material. You should expect cold. And lots of it." She helps me dress. Then she pulls a fluffy black snow suit off the hanger that I obviously hadn't noticed. By the time I've put it on, I have realized that- wait- a snow suit. What the hell. Oh my fuc- Putra cuts my thoughts short when she holds the tray out to me. I see what is occupying it; a hunting knife and a small loaf of Everdeen bread.
Everdeen bread was named after my Family, because Katniss invented it. It looks like normal bread, smells like normal bread, but certainly does not taste like normal bread. It is made from inner pine bark, nuts, dried plumbs, blueberries, raisins, a bit of cinnamon for flavor, and it is enough to keep someone going for a week. It is so filling, one slice serves for an entire meal. But it is also completely dehydrating.
This could be my survival, this could win me the Games. If nothing happens to it. I have find water, though. I am still concerned as to why I am dressed in a winter suit.
"Willow, remember. Don't go for the supplies at the cornucopia. This is enough for you. Nobody else has it. Only you. Not even Darious. He has I think a small loaf of pine bread. Each tribute has a different kind of bread, one that comes from their district. So you have Everdeen bread." I can tell she is struggling with this goodbye. She stuffs the knife and bread into a small backpack and forces it on me. "Every tribute also gets a pack. Oh, and you all have the same knife." She says, sniffling.
I nod my head and hug her. "Thank you." I whisper. "Thank you for not dressing me up like a clown." I feel tears well in my eyes. "Thank you for being my stylist." I still don't know why she chose me, but it doesn't really matter right now.
I step away from her, trembling. She pats my head. "You can win if you set your mind to it." She says reassuringly.
I nod just as the robotic voice on the loud speaker says, "Prepare for launch." I look at Putra one last time. She smiles at me as I step into the tube. Immediately the doors close, encasing me in glass. I am being pushed upwards, my heart pounding so hard I think I might have a heart attack.
A white light gleams in my eyes blinding me momentarily, then I see white everywhere. Snow is falling, staining my eyelashes and loose hair. I should have braided it. All I can hear is my heart beat, but I know that a count down from sixty is being said. And I can see it on the timer above the cornucopia. I take in the arena that is split into thirds. One third is what appears the be a frozen lake at the back of the cornucopia, closest to the tail. To the right of that is a flat plain covered in snow and trees. Then to the left of the cornucopia are mountains. By the end of the count down, I can only form one thought: Oh shit.
Dun Dun Dunnnnnn What will Willow do next? I will be posting the next chapter tonight or tomorrow.
