Ok, here goes chapter two! I think the next chapter will be about the tributes interviews, so the Games (or, interesting parts xD) are coming soon! 😀
The bleak, grey training arena was filled with tributes all shapes and sizes. Some seemed weak and puny, yet they were using magic as if it was second nature. “You see, Katnip, you gotta remember that magic is the key element to the Games. Instead of grabbing a weapon, grab a power pack.” Said my mentor Damon, sober for some reason. “Take a bath, Damon, you stink.” I replied, but his advice was fresh in my mind. I walked over to a boy who was creating grey bubbles with his hands. I watched, seeing if I could pick up any techniques. He didn’t speak, but I could feel his piercing emerald green eyes looking at me. As he stared at me, his concentration on the magic in his hands disappeared and the bubbles popped. He grunted in frustration. I knew who that boy was, vaguely. He worked at the decorations shop in my district, creating ribbons and wrapping paper. I’d longingly looked through the window many times a week, wondering if I had enough for Rose’s birthday so her present could be wrapped up nicely. He’d seen me looking, so when I walked into the shop, just to look, he sneaked me a tube of wrapping paper, complete with a pink rose shaped bow on top. I had walked back home grinning, knowing Rose would be squealing with happiness. I had wondered why he knew my sister’s name, but I never found out.
“Nice. Maybe a different colour this time? My sister Rose loves..” “Pink.” He answered, smiling a little. “Wait, how did you know that?” I asked, my eyes widening. He didn’t answer, but a grin creeped up on his lips. I smiled back a little. I had seen flashes of him for years, but never fully seen him face to face. I noticed he had reddish, auburn, wavy hair and of course, those green eyes.
The emerald green eyes that had flickered up to my gaze and then trailed away, the same eyes that did that now. “Magic?” He answered, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, magic.” I smile, teasingly popping the bubbles he created. “Hey! If you wanna survive mate, don’t pop a guy’s bubbles.” He says with an irritated tone, but he’s hiding a smirk. “Lucky I’m a survivor.” I say, getting up. “Yeah, lucky you..” He mutters as I walk away, and I can’t help thinking he does mean something. I shake that feeling off, and continue to examine the training arena. There’s a power pack lesson on the right side, so I go over to there. “So, tributes, that is how you use a power pack.” Says the woman who was teaching a class of tributes. All the tributes listening are sitting cross-legged on the floor, like some kind of twisted school. I sit down casually. “Sorry? Explain that to me again please.” I say innocently. She sighs frustratingly. “I’m not gonna explain the whole lesson to you!” She says. I raise my eyebrows. “Isn’t that your job?”
My reply is followed by a few muffled sniggers, and she narrows her eyes. “Ok, miss, we’ll repeat the whole damn lesson for you! Class, be extra nice to this girl, she doesn’t understand basic instructions!” She says mockingly. The class replies in laughter, echoing across the room. I bite my lip as every tribute looks up from what they’re doing and looks at me. I sit through the lesson though, and I learn some useful information about power packs, how they are at the cornucopia, even what the cornucopia is. When the lesson ends, she nods at me. “Class dismissed.” And then the tributes run off and back into training. I sit there, not knowing what to do.
“Sweetie, you gonna sit there like a slapped cow?” She asks in a mockingly sympathetic tone, hands on her hips. “Oh sorry, thought you were the cow.” I reply, then walk off. I remember dinner suddenly. “Shoot,” I mutter, and run to the elevator. When I arrive on the right floor, I’m in my tribute apartment. It’s fancy and elaborate, like the people in the Capitol who built it. Nothing about it says “Blood filled, murderous games”, more “fancy clothes and luxury”. When I reach the dining room, it must be at least an hour later than I was supposed to be. Ellie greets me with a frown and a huff. “Late! You are late!” I ignore her and sit down on the plush covered chair. Damon is there, as well as the other residents of this place. I look down at the table and see the contents. The table is heaving with foods of all kinds, a huge, shining roasted pig as the centrepiece, huge dishes of potatoes and sprouts, peas and all sorts of vegetables, boats of gravy and wine, and then of course, all sorts of exotic desserts.
I take it all in, the smell of stew and meat and potatoes, and then I begin to fill my plate. Afterwards, I feel super full because I’m so not used to such filling and large meals. I go to my room and lay down on the soft, plush bed, staring up at the ceiling, dreading the next day, even though to some it’s just a day, but for me? It was just another day until the Games.
Thanks for reading, any helpful criticism would be awesome 🙂 Alice x