My lungs burned as they strained to take in enough air, heart pounded, back ached, arms swung frantically, and legs pumped with a stong systematic rhythm like pistons. God, I loved running! The ground came up with sharp jarring contacts to meet my shoes, dust kicking up in chalky plumes behind me as we cut down an alley. It was just supposed to be a morning jog, it was always just supposed to be a morning jog, but it never stayed that way, not when you could push yourself to breaking point, push each other to breaking point, and that is what Valentina and I did everyday. We had started out at home, at and easy pace, but in no time we were tearing through the streets, alleys, and byways on our way to the Games Training Center.
We were nearly neck and neck, and after three years of training and practice together we could well predict one another's moves and anticipate where we were at the advantage. Cutting through the town square where in two days the Reaping would be held I managed to scale the stairs leading to the main road two at a time, overtaking my friend. I felt the momentary rush of victory though I knew it wouldn't be long lived. Coming across the slower moving traffic of masons walking to the quarry we dodged and wove through the slowly filling street. She was at the advantage, here, more agile where I had the flat out speed. Buildings blurred past and still my legs worked with a mechanics of their own. The morning sunlight was reflected suddenly and sharply off the glass of a door as it opened and shown right into my eyes, catching my attention. Turning to look, I laughed at the obstacle that was currently presenting itself on our path. A group of stiff P.K. trainees were shuffling out of the nearby education center, their crisp uniforms with their neat little training stripes just begged for dirtying.
Glancing back to Valentina who was just at my heels, her bright red hair caught in the wind and trailing behind her like a comet's tail, to see if she was ready to cause a little trouble with the future of Panem's policing force. Smiling and nodding I found that my friend was, as ever, ready for anything. P.K. trainees were worse than P.K.s themselves, always stuck up, high and mighty little pricks, always lording over us Careers their supposed status, and privilege. They would get to travel the Nation, they would get to see the Capitol, as if that was such an honor. If it hadn't been for my uncle's cruel insistence that I become a Career I would have gladly lived off his wealth as a nobody, or broke my back in a quarry as a nobody rather than join their ranks. Unfortunately for the quarry workers however, their list of job requirements included letting P.K. trianee brats practice their "technique" on you. At least once a year they beat some poor soul to death, so yeah, they had to go down.
"Look out!" "Move!" "Our of the way!" Came the shouts and distressed cries from the starchly dressed individuals as we bared down on them. Neither Valentina nor I gave them any heed as we barreled through those too stupid, or flat-footed to move fast enough, knocking several to the ground. Laughing with my greatest friend, and ally in misadventure as our paces matched I almost didn't register the dark fast moving object in my peripheral vision until it was nearly to late. Somehow I managed to duck the baton anyway. See that was why I hated them, it was always beat first, figure out what District you're in later.
"Asshole!" I swore at him, sure my uncle would hear about it later, meaning that so would I, eventually. But right now that didn't matter, and all that did matter was the intoxicating thrill and adrenaline that running brought. It made me feel alive.
The Center came into view shortly after we had broken through the crowds. Typically I hated the place, it was where I was trained to kill other children, and aside from Valentina, I was the only Career who didn't seem to relish the idea. Not to mention the Careers themselves; catty, pack animals, who stuck together and made fun of anyone who seemed weak or different. Me, I was petite at best. and even though I could hold my own with a spear, and managed to adapt rather quickly in hand-to-hand, strength wasn't necessarily my strong point. That was how Valentina and I had met too, I was being excluded, mocked. She was an orphan elected for training as a Career because of her athleticism and knew what being an outcast meant, felt like. She had come over to me and helped me with some one on one. This went on for about a week before we finally decided to be friends as well as sparing partners and actually held a real conversation. My uncle adopted her just last year, it was a hollow gesture towards me I knew, like he was buying a pet, anything he could do to give me companionship without actually being there himself. Still I loved our time together. Technically it made her my cousin, but with the way we acted, sisters was definatly a more apt analogy of our relationship.
"I win!" we cried in unison our hands slapping the rugged concrete wall of the Center. After the Year of Sorrow District Two had been the first to be rebuilt, after the Capitol of course, but it still bore its scars. My favorite was the long crack that ran from the all the way from the Center's base to the top of the domed, open ceiling of the building. I always touched it coming in for the win. We joked once that if we built up enough momentum we could bring the whole wretched place down.
Turning with my back to the sun baked wall I slid down to the ground as breath tugged in sharp painful gulps at my chest, and my legs finally motionless still felt jumpy, restless, like they could keep going, and sore. "Tie?" Valentina asked breathily.
"Tie." I confirmed with a laugh.
"Could you believe that peacekeeper wannabe?" Valentina asked, knocking her shoulder against mine.
"I know!" I shrilled unable to contain either my disbelief or my excitement. If anyone were to ask I would say that I wasn't one to cause trouble, but truth was, if I could get away with causing a little mischief every now and then, well, I thrived on it. "Darn near took my head off!" We laughed. "Stupid P.K.s"
"You know that your uncle's going to hear about it, then we're in trouble." she went on, still struggling to regain her breath.
I grimaced. My uncle was hardly ever home, he was supposed to be my guardian but he never had the time of day for me, not ever, which probably explained a lot. The way he put it when he was around and fuming at our antics, Valentina was supposed to keep me in line, be my better half, more responsible because she's older by a good two and a half years. Oh how best laid plans can fail! "I know," I said with a shrug. "But what can you do about it?"
We sat there eyes closed as we caught our breath for several minutes before Valentina broke the silence once more. "Reaping is in two days." she observed.
"Yeah." I said, cherishing the warmth of the sun on my face, but I could hear the nerves in her tone. Careers usuasly wound up in the Games one way or the other, whether through volunteering or through the pool, it seemed masons were seldom chosen, and P.K. trainees over them. This would be the last Reaping she would ever have to face, and Valentina seemed to think that this would be the year her name was chosen out of the dozens in that horrid glass bowl.
"I don't think I could do it, if I got, ...chosen." she went on with a lilt to her tone, rousing me from my half doze as I could tell now that she was really trying to put on a brave face. Valentina never used the word 'Reaped' she felt it was too cruel, too menacing, and robbed the children it referred to of not only identities, but humanity, relating them more akin to crops than anything.
Honestly I sometimes think that she's too good for this world, and am proud of all the things she's taught me. I only hope I've returned the favor in some small way.
"You won't be R- chosen." I said correcting myself before it was too late.
"I know it's silly Adaria, but I'm really worried, I feel like something bad is about to happen!" she went on her voice warbling. This more than anything scared me. Valentina had always been the stronger of the two of us, the one with a leather hide who knew that words were nothing more than just that, words. The one who lived now and never thought of tomorrow or dangers to come. I was the one who was timid, shy even in social situations, standing up for my beliefs, and giving P.K. trainees a taste of their own medicine, never, but I was the one who fumbled during conversations, or fretted over things like the future and Reapings, never her, never my brave, strong, compassionate Valentina.
I tried to think of something to say. Then channeling my inner Valentina I looked at her with a wide, wicked grin. "Tell you what, the night after Reaping, when we're both sitting together on the couch, instead of having a quiet night at home you and me put on our sexist dresses and paint the town red like a couple of Capitol girls!"
Valentina brightened at this, "I want you in heels darling, heels!" she said in her best Capitol accent.
I groaned before linking my arm in hers, "Heels it is Vee!" I said in my own accent. We laughed and I helped her up. "Come on, I beamed at her, let's go work up a sweat." And with that we entered the dome.