(Chapter 4: James)
Cleo eats quickly, shovelling down her food like she's never seen eggs before. My mother smiles and joins us at the table. My nerves are driving me crazy, so I just poke the eggs around with my fork. I study my surroundings, eyes locking on an old photograph of my mother smiling and holding baby-me in her arms. The photo's ripped, however. My mother ripped my father out of every picture we had after he left when Cleo was born.
"Have you been practising, James?" my mother asks. She wants me to be chosen, to represent our family and win the games. She's had this competitiveness about her ever since my father left.
"Yes, mother." I say, but don't look her in the eye.
"What about your sister?" she asks.
Cleo has never wanted to practise for the games. Just mentioning it makes her run to vomit. My mother refuses to accept this, so I have to pretend Cleo is coming with me, or I'll be beaten; bad.
"Yes." I answer.
I don't know if my mother is what you would call a 'toxic' parent, she just really wants to make my dad feel bad for leaving her. She wants to rub it in the face of all of District 1 that her children will be the winners of the games.
"Well, I hope you are both chosen." mother says, then picks up her plate and leaves. I notice Cleo slips a knife into her pocket, but I don't say anything. I'm too wrapped up in my thoughts.
I leave my untouched plate of food on the table and leave the house, running into the forest. I climb the tallest tree I can find and sit there, staring up at the bright blue sky.
What if I'm chosen?
The thought nearly makes me fall out of the tree.
I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die.
But what if I win?
My mind is flooded with images of past Victors. The parties, the money, the food, the luxury. It would be amazing. My mother would stop being so cruel to me, Cleo might start leaving the house again. My heart races with happiness, all these made up moments flashing past my eyes. Me standing in an arena, next to the Cornucopia, a golden sword held high in triumph. I close my eyes, not even realising my lips stretching into a smile.
I slowly climb down the tree, strolling out of the forest and back to my house. I smile as I open the door, as I enter my room, and throw myself onto my bed.
Victory.