The Girl's Games: the 71st Hunger Games | Teen Ink

The Girl's Games: the 71st Hunger Games

September 16, 2012
By milforce SILVER, Bloomington, Illinois
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milforce SILVER, Bloomington, Illinois
9 articles 0 photos 135 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Those who have the ability to act, have the responsibility to act."


“Well, Lumina, who do you think it’ll be this year?” my best friend, Corona, asks as we walk to the square that made the middle of District 5 its home.

It really is time again for the Hunger Games. Every year they abduct two of us from each district, a boy and a girl. All 24 tributes enter an arena and battle to the death. It seems fair, but everyone knows that the kids from districts 1, 2, and 4 are trained their whole life for this moment. They want this opportunity. The oldest or the strongest or possibly both volunteer each year and fight for the honor of being a mass murderer. But that’s not how it works here. No. Here, we’re raised to be smart because if you don’t have a brain, you don’t have a place in District 5. We supply all of Panem with power and it takes everybody working together to accomplish such a feat. As soon as your twelve years old, you can get a job working at a power plant as basically an equipment runner and then you can slide up the ranks by proving yourself as an individual. I’m thirteen and I work as a system analyst. That job is normally given to 20 year olds. Corona always says that it should be expected from the top of our class, that I was the smartest of the smart, and that I could stand a chance at winning the Hunger Games with my brain. I think that’s unlikely. “It’s hard to say,” I answer, “I know Ross has been taking tesserae, so he might be in trouble.” She nods silently and I know what she wants to ask me. “Don’t worry, I haven’t taken any.”

“Neither have I, but well, you know the probability better than I do. There’s still a chance one of us will get reaped,” she says without looking at me.

“Corona, I’m not going to say it won’t happen but it isn’t probable. Our names are in there twice. That’s four out of the hundreds of kids in District 5,” I reply.

She goes quiet which is unlike her and I take the time to fix my clothes. My white sundress is slightly too small since I’m 5’ 7’’ which is rather tall for my age and sits oddly on me and my ballet flats are old and worn from my mother, their previous owner. She wanted me to wear her flats because she wore them for all of her Reapings and she was never chosen. To be honest, I don’t mind wearing the shoes at all. I tighten my curly, bronze ponytail and rub the tan skin of my forearm. I’m nervous. I know that I could be sent to my death today and that there wouldn’t be much point in trying to win if I did get reaped, but still, why did I set my TV to record all the Reapings?

“Corona, if one of us gets reaped, the other has to go to my house as quickly as possible, put the recordings of the Reapings on a CD, and give it to the other. Understand?” I say in a serious tone that I’m unfamiliar with. She nods again and we don’t talk for the rest of the way.

As soon as we’ve reached the intricate bricks of the town square, our fingers are pricked for blood and we find our way to the thirteen year old section. Each of the age groups have a roped off section for them to stand in. I guess it’s just to be a little more organized or something. Corona and I find a spot next to a few other girls from school and await the Reaping. I look over to the group of twelve year olds and find them fidgeting and shifting their eyes around as though they are watching a fly. I remember being there last year, shivering from anxiety and the cloudy day, watching the clear ball of names that sat on the stage like it might sprout legs and walk off, sighing out of relief when my name wasn’t called. But at the same time I sighed, I felt terrible, knowing that because my name wasn’t called, somebody else’s was. Both of our tributes died last year and the year before that and the year before that. Not many tributes from District 5 make it out alive. But there are a few. Enough for us to have mentors when we’re Reaped.

I take a look at my black and silver watch. 10 o’clock. As if on cue, the large television to my right flashes on and shows the video that we are forced to watch every year. It’s a video of the Dark Days and why the Capitol started the Hunger Games, but then it turns into a video of triumph and makes it seem like it’s an honor to compete in the Hunger Games. Ridiculous. Then the video fades and our famously bold escort hops on stage. Her name is Hestia and today, she sports a tight lavender dress that matches her artificial eye color. Her skin is paler than her eyes and her hair is jet black but with long white bangs. “Hello, District 5!” she begins in her cheery Capitol accent, “We all know this is a very special day. Today, one boy and one girl will be chosen to compete for the honor of winning the 71st Hunger Games!” I think she expects us to cheer and clap but nobody moves a muscle. Well, some people change their straight face into a frown. Hestia coughs a little and continues, “Let us begin then. For the ladies.” She waves her hand around in the glass ball and I think it looks like smoke. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Faintly, I hear the flick of a paper and clack of her heels as she walks back to the microphone. “Lumina Harrow.”

My eyes shoot open and all of the air leaves my body in one big rush. Corona’s staring at me with wide eyes, but I find my courage and act indifferent. I step through the crowd of 13 year olds and allow the Peacekeepers to take me on to the stage. I keep my head up the entire time. “Here we are. Lumina Harrow, the District 5 female tribute, unless there are any volunteers.” I find Corona’s face in the crowd and when our eyes meet she lowers her head. She’s not considering it. She was, but she’s too scared. I’m scared too, honestly. More scared than I ever have been. I’m going to my death right now unless I fight. I might stand a chance if I fight. But could I really kill somebody? I don’t even notice when Hestia walks over to the glass ball with all the boys’ names in it and draws out another slender piece of paper. “Ross Stronghold,” she says. I expected that. Ross’s father was injured at a power plant and can’t work, so Ross has been taking tesserae to make up for it. I’m not sure I want to know how many times his name is in the ball. Ross looks scared as well, but steps out of the crowd and is walked up the stage next to me. “Any volunteers?” Hestia asks. Not one person budges. “Well, there we have it then. Our tributes for District 5!” And with that, she takes our arms and leads us behind the stage.
We’re taken into separate rooms and told that we’ll have a few minutes to talk to anybody who comes to visit. A door closes and I’m stuck in a room with green walls and carpet and dark wood furniture. My parents are the first to enter the room. Immediately, my mother bursts into tears and embraces me. She strokes my hair like she used to when I needed her comfort, but now it seems reversed. My father wraps his arms around the both of us and squeezes. After about a minute of solid hugging, my father pulls away and grabs my shoulders, looking me straight in the eye. “Lumina, you can do this. I know you can. You’re smart. Smarter than anyone I’ve ever known. Use that to your advantage and come back to us.” My mother looks at me through blurry eyes and nods, biting her lower lip.
“We love you.” That’s all my mother can say before the Peacekeepers drag her and my father out of the room and slam the door.
I sit on a green chair that faces the door and wait for the next visitor. I wonder who is going to come. Corona will for sure, but will anybody else? Does anyone really care besides my best friend and my parents? The door opens to show a morbid Corona. “Hey,” she says as she steps into the room. I say hey back and she hands me a CD labeled ‘REAPINGS’ in rushed handwriting. “What are you going to use that for?” she asks.
“To study my opponents. I want to see their reaction to being reaped,” I answer.
“But three of them haven’t happened yet. 3, 7, and 11 haven’t had their Reaping.”
“I’ll have to get ahold of it in the Capitol somehow then.”
She nods and blinks a few times in an effort to retain tears. Our eyes meet and before I can comprehend what’s going on, she hugging me and crying on my shoulder. “Promise me,” she says, “Promise me you’ll come back.”
“You know I can’t do that. The statistics-”
“I don’t care about the statistics!” she shouts, “Just say it.”
I sigh heavily and feel a single tear roll down my cheek. “I promise you, Corona. I will come back.”

I sit alone in that same green room, waiting for someone else to come and cry for me, but nobody bothers. It occurs to me that Ross must have more visitors and that they’re waiting to take us somewhere together. Of course, Ross would have more visitors; he’s always been more popular than me. He’s got loads of friends, brothers, a sister, aunts, uncles. I don’t have any of that. I’m the only child of two only children. No relatives to speak of. My father’s mother caught consumption after she gave birth to him and his father died before I was born. My mother’s parents were both killed in a power plant accident. They were the only ones that died. Mom says it was because they got everybody out of the way first and then were too late for themselves. My family’s had exceptional luck with the Reapings. Only a few of us have been taken into the Games. A few plus one now though.

Someone knocks on the door and I shout that they can come in. Hestia opens the door and smiles at me. “Lumina, correct?” I nod. “How are you feeling?”

I ignore her question and ask my own. “What’s next?”

She looks at me like I’m a four headed goat. “What do you mean?”

“The visiting is over, so what comes next? Do we meet our mentors?”

Hestia blinks and smiles. “My, you are quite smart, aren’t you? Well, you’re correct. We’re going to meet your mentor now. My name is Hestia, by the way.”

I decided not to tell her that I knew her name for obvious reasons because it might offend her. Instead, I nod and follow her down an equally green hallway. Then for the first time, I glance outside a window and see a train station. I’d forgotten that the tributes take a train to the Capitol so it came as a slight surprise to me. We stop a couple of doors down and pick up Ross before entering a larger room that had two couches and four chairs all huddled around a coffee table. It’s the first time I’ve seen Ross in a while. We used to be good friends when we were younger but we sort of grew apart when he went to school since he is a year older than me. He used to be shorter than me with light brown hair but now he stands a few inches above me and his hair has darkened to a solid brown. His hair is still messy though. I wonder if he ever brushes it.

“Long time, no see, Lumina,” he says in a much lower voice than I remember.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Got to say, this isn’t exactly the place I’d like to reminisce,” I reply.

He laughs a little and Hestia looks from one of us to the other. “You know each other?”

“We’re old friends,” Ross says.

Hestia opens her mouth to speak but the door opens and she gets distracted. A motherly looking woman with a brown ponytail and an old man with snow white hair and a hunch walk in the room. I recognize both of them immediately. The woman’s name is Kilo. She won the 44th Hunger Games by out-smarting all the opponents. The man’s name is Baryon. He won the 14th Hunger Games by releasing nuclear waste into the arena. “Ah, welcome, mentors! Ross, Baryon will be your mentor and Kilo will be yours, Lumina,” Hestia says.

I shake hands with Kilo and find that she’s just a little bit shorter than me and that her eyes are just as brown as her hair. “Pleasure to meet you,” she says with a kind smile.

Hestia smiles at us and takes a seat in one of the chairs. Ross and I sit on a couch and Kilo and Baryon sit on the couch opposite us. “So,” Hestia begins, “I’m your escort and it’s my job to make sure you behave properly. Your mentor’s job is to give you advice on how to win the games and also to get you sponsors. You’ll do well to listen to what we have to say. It could save your life, you know. When we get to the Capitol, you’ll meet your stylist and prep team. Their job is to make sure you look your best and leave an image when people see you. Any questions?” She pauses. Does she really think there will be questions? We’re from District 5 for heaven’s sake. “Alright, well then I’m going to get us some water. Mentors, why don’t you discuss strategy or something?”

Kilo nods and leans forward, looking right into my eyes. As soon as Hestia exits the room, she asks, “What are your strengths?”

I can’t think of anything to say so I just answer with, “I’m at the top of my class.”

“That’s good, but what do you know about practical things? Fire, food, combat?” she says.

“Um, not much. I know the mechanics of fire and I’ve studied combat, but I don’t have any real experience.”

She leans back and crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s the problem with District 5. You’ve all studied this stuff but you’ve got no hands on time with it. So how smart are you?”

“Smart enough to get the job of a 20 year old,” Ross says.

“How old are you?” Kilo asks. I tell her I’m thirteen. She crosses her right leg over the left and thinks for a moment.

“And what about you, boy?” Baryon asks.

“I’m not much, honestly. I’m good with electricity and inventing things and I’ve got a decent brain, but I don’t have much physical power,” Ross says, lacing his fingers together.

“Physical power isn’t always what wins the Games. That’s how the Careers will do it, but that doesn’t mean that’s how you have to. I made it out with my knowledge of nuclear waste. No muscle needed,” Baryon replied in a slightly weak voice.

I look at Kilo and find her staring intently at my pocket, right where the CD is. She squints her eyes a little bit as though she can see right through the cloth of my dress. Am I breaking the rules or something by bringing this CD? From what I’ve read of the Hunger Games, there’s nothing that says I can’t have it but then again, there’s nothing that says I can. Before I can think any further, Hestia walks in again with a short red haired girl in a red uniform. Her skin is strangely pale and her eyelids seem to be heavy. Then I remember something I’d read about in the restricted section of the library. She’s an Avox. I read that the Capitol cuts out the tongues of people who rebel against their rule and set them to work. They serve the tributes during the Hunger Games from what I understand. The girl rolls in a cart and pulls out five glasses and a pitcher of water. She fills each of them and places them in front of us before backing against the wall, basically disappearing.

“So, Ross, Lumina, are you excited?” Hestia asks, sitting down in the chair as though it might break at her weight. Her lips are pressed together in a smile that must be from the Capitol because I’ve never seen anything like it.

Ross raises his eyebrows and half smiles. “What for?”

“To see the Capitol! Oh, let me tell you, it’s beautiful!” she exclaims.

“We’ve seen pictures, you know?” I say.

“Well, I’m sure, but that’s nothing compared to the real thing! A photo can’t capture all the wonder and beauty of the Captiol.” For the rest of the train ride, Hestia talks about all the ‘wonder’ of the Capitol. It doesn’t sound that wonderful to me, but I figure I better act like it since I need people to like me, so I sit and listen to her, pretending to be absolutely fascinated. My time would’ve been better spent talking to Kilo. I’m not sure how long it took, but we eventually reach the Capitol and speed into a station where hundreds of screaming…people, I guess, are waiting for us. I know that the Capitol fashion is quite a bit different than that of the districts, but I still can’t help but stare. I see people with 5 inch eyelashes, dresses that look like cupcakes, blue dogs, green skin, and most of all, hair of all styles and colors. Many of them wave as we skid to a halt and I recognize this immediately as a chance to gain some fame, so I smile a bit shyly and wave back. Some of them scream and others talk to those around them, hopefully discussing me. I look at Ross and he picks up on what I’m doing, waving and smiling a wonderful, natural smile. He gets about the same reaction as I did.

Hestia escorts us off the train and through the crowd of people. Many of them reach out and touch my shoulder or hair, I guess just trying to get a part of me. Soon we’re out of the train station and while there are still more people than I’ve ever seen at a Reaping, it’s calmer. I notice then that Kilo and Baryon aren’t with us. We’re led into a tall building that’s mainly made of tinted glass. We walk into an elevator that has bright red carpet. Hestia clicks a button labeled ‘6’ and then turns to Ross and I. She puts one hand on my shoulder and the other on Ross’s and looks us straight in the eye. “You’re going to meet your stylist and prep team now. They’ll clean you up and make you look like a star.”

She smiles that uncomfortable looking smile as the elevator doors open. We step into a dark room that has a long row of light blue curtains set up to make 24 separate sections. Each of the sections has a table, bright overhead light, and three people wearing what look sort of like rubber lab coats. I recognize them as the prep team. Every tribute has three people that do all of the simple beauty steps so the main stylist doesn’t have to worry about them. Some of tributes are already here, lying down on the tables, having their hair brushed or skin cleaned.
A man wearing all black with a headset and clipboard asks Hestia what district we’re from. She tells him we’re from District 5 and he scribbles something onto the clipboard. He leads Ross and I to the 9th and 10th sections where we’re separated.

“Oh! You must be our tribute,” a man with green hair and emerald eyes says. His hair is spikey and reaches about to his shoulders. His skin is tan and he has a goatee on his chin. “I’m Sven.”

“I’m Kahanu,” a young looking man with no hair at all says. He doesn’t even have eyebrows. His skin is very pale and I doubt it’s naturally like that. He’s very skinny and I notice that his hands shake a little bit.

“And I’m Akira,” says a woman with boy short, fiery red hair. She’s small but I can tell by the way she speaks that she’s strong. When I look at her eyes, I see a tiny flame in them, right where her pupil is and think that she must be wearing special contacts. “Change.” She throws a blue gown at me and I hesitantly change into it.
She walks close to me and tugs on my ponytail. “She’s got good hair.”
Sven approaches me next and takes my arm in his hand. He rubs my skin gently. “She’s got good skin.”
Then Kahanu stands before me and stares intently at my face. He squints and seems to analyze every detail. “She’s pretty too. She won’t need much makeup.”
“Looks like we got off easy!” Sven exclaimed. “So what’s your name, kid?” I tell him my name. “Well, Lumina, why don’t you lie down and we’ll get started?”
I lift myself onto the cool, metal table and straighten myself out. Akira takes my hair out of its ponytail and begins brushing it furiously. Sven rubs some sort of oil on my arms and legs while Kahanu gently washes my face. They do lots of strange things to me, such as making me soak in a tub of liquid that stings my skin, but by the end of it, I’m glowing. Kahanu even cries when they’re finished. They say that we got done before schedule so we sit and talk until it was time for me to meet my stylist. They tell me more about the Capitol and that they think I could be a winner. Akira even says that she thinks I’ll get a lot of sponsors because I’m innocent looking. I’m about to ask her what she meant when a tall woman with tan skin and sky blue hair walks in. Her hair confuses me. It puffs out around her ears, but still manages to hug her face. She’s wearing a blue silk skirt that sits high above her hips and a white long sleeved shirt that has lace around the collar and wrists.
My prep team must know what’s going on because they step out and stand with the other prep teams and whisper amongst themselves. I sit up and let my legs dangle off the side of the table. The woman turns her focus to me and I see that her eyes are extremely light grey. They almost look white and it makes her gaze seem cold and severe. “My name is Sora. I’ll be your stylist.”
“You’re here to help me make my mark, right?” I ask.
She nods and smiles. “Your name is Lumina, correct?” I say yes. “Well, I’d like to ask you something, Lumina. What’s on that CD of yours?”
“How do you know about that?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows. She gestures with her head to the counter behind me and I see it, sitting next to a neatly folded pile of my clothes. “It’s a recording of most of the Reapings. I’m going to study them.”
“That’s smart. You must be serious about this.”
“I promised a friend I’d come back to her,” I reply.
“I see. Let that promise guide you, Lumina. I can tell already that you and your friend share a close bond, so you don’t want to disappoint her. Keep your promise,” she says. I shake my head up and down, allowing determination to fill my body. It’s warm and makes me feel stronger. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
“A notebook and 3, 7, and 11’s Reapings.”

Later that day, Hestia takes us to another tall building with lots and lots of windows. She says that this is where we’ll be doing all of the training which starts tomorrow. We go up to the 5th floor where we meet Kilo and Baryon. The floor is enormous and has separate rooms for each of us as well as a sort of living room that has a television area as well as a large table. Everything is brightly colored and looks really expensive. A few Avoxes are there too and they serve us dinner that consists of an incredible lamb stew, fruits and vegetables I’ve only read about, and a chocolate mousse for dessert.
“Would you like anything else, Lumina?” Hestia asks when she notices I’ve stopped eating.
“If I eat anything else, I’d pop and then you’d have to scrape me off the walls,” I answer. Everyone laughs except for Hestia who instead frowns at the image. I suppose that would be rather disgusting to someone who’s lived in the Capitol their whole life.
After dinner, I retire to my room which is colored similarly to the train, green with dark brown wood. I find a notebook and two CDs sitting on my comforter. Inside the notebook cover is a note that reads, “You can put those CDs in the DVD player. I fixed them so that they’ll play – Sora”. Searching the room for this DVD player, I find it sitting below the television which hangs high on the wall, facing my bed. I slip into silk pajamas the color of lilacs, a gift from Hestia. Placing the first disc in the player, I turn on the television and take a seat on my bed. I grab a pencil from a nightstand and flip open the notebook.
I watch the screen intently, scribbling down first names and districts and a small note about each tribute. At the end, I look over what I’ve written.

District 1- Catria, strong looking legs
District 1- Thornton, tall and strong
District 2- Hemlock, instant volunteer
District 2- Dogwood, very strong arms
District 3- Blanche, serious expression
District 3- Ewin, shaking legs
District 4- Mako, monster of a girl
District 4- Brine, larger than life
District 6- Avery, small
District 6- Hesper, ordinary
District 7- Echevaria, skinny, scared
District 7- Saul, tall, strong
District 8- Aba, 12 year old, cried
District 8- Hawksbill, strong arms
District 9- Kaffir, determined expression
District 9- Tokara, muscly
District 10- Crotin, clenched fists
District 10- Ridgeback, ENORMOUS BOY
District 11- Thorn-apple, volunteer
District 11- Orson, waved to crowd
District 12- Fir, very small, frail
District 12- Wilt, skinny

I watch the videos a second time and then lie down on the bed and close my eyes. But as soon as I can’t see anything, one name sticks in my vision. Ridgeback.

I wake in the morning to Hestia shaking my shoulders vigorously. “Lumina, wake up. Wake up! You’ll miss breakfast!” she says. Jolting, I bound out of bed and quickly dress myself in the black and red training uniform, not really caring that Hestia is still in the room with me. She seems appalled and covers her eyes, but I just smirk a little.

Breakfast tastes wonderful. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and bananas all find their way into my mouth. I fill my stomach to the point where it’s not too full and I can still move properly. Today is the first day of training after all. I’m not certain that I’m prepared to meet all of my fellow tributes and I’m honestly a little scared to see some of them at all, but I do have an advantage; I know them already. They don’t know me.

Ross and I walk together to the elevator and are stopped by our mentors. Kilo pulls me to the side, staring me down. I can feel the intensity of her gaze seeping through her skin and into mine. “Do you know how I got through the Games?” she asks me.

“You out-smarted everyone,” I answer, somewhat unsure now that she’s asked.

She shook her head to the side. “I was overlooked. Look at me, Lumina. Tell me what I look like to you.”

I take in everything about her at that point. I absorb her brown hair, brown eyes, neither tan nor pale skin, common height, average build. “An average girl from an average district.”

“Right.” She looks at me, presumably doing the same analysis. “You’re not average. You’re tall and tan and pretty. Be careful not to draw too much attention to yourself. Don’t show them what you can do. Work on the things you can’t do. Understand?” I nod in response. “All of you will eat lunch together too. This is when you’ll form alliances. Don’t go with the Careers. They’ll use you. If you choose to make allies, choose people that enhance your strengths and that you know you can trust.” I nod again. She smiles warmly and says, “Good luck and good job.”

My eyebrows furrow. “Good job?”

“I know you’ll do well.” I open my mouth to object but she interrupts me. “Don’t question. I’m from District 5 too, you know? I know my stuff.”

I smile as she walks away and make my way back to the elevator where Ross is waiting for me. “What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing.”

The elevator ride is shorter than I think Ross would’ve liked, but nevertheless, he walks fearlessly onto the black mat floor of the training center. Eight of the tributes are already there, each paired off with their district partner. Thornton and Catria from District 1,Dogwood and Hemlock from District 2, Brine and Mako from District 4, and lastly, Ridgeback and Crotin from District 10. Ross walks over toward the two from District 10 and I flinch a little as he does so. I just might be crushed by Ridgeback’s mass. What amazes and scares me about him is that not an inch of his body is fat. That entire boy is muscle. Ross stands on the right side of Ridgeback and I stand to the right side of Ross. The monster of a boy looks at us and does something I never would have imagined. He smiles. Not a blood thirsty, ‘I’m going to eat you now’ type a smile either. It’s a genuine, kind smile. I grin back shyly and though I can’t actually see it, I’m sure Ross smiled as well.

It’s quiet except for the Careers who make the odd comment once in a while. I’ve got a good view of them now. Mako is definitely the one to look out for. She has more muscle than I knew a girl could and the look in her eyes frightens me. Dogwood is also threatening. His arms are so strong and his expression is stern. ‘Like a soldier,’ I think. The others are scary too of course, but Mako and Dogwood are the two that stick out in my mind.

Slowly, the other tributes start to blow in, some with their partner, others without. I proudly place a name to each of them. As soon as everyone is present, Atala, the woman who runs training speaks up. “Welcome to training. For the next three days, you will have access to all the stations on this floor. Many of you will head straight to the weapons stations, but don’t ignore the survival skills. They are just as important. I’d like to remind you that you cannot fight amongst yourselves, but if you would like to spar, you can request an assistant to practice with. Good luck.”

Almost everyone takes off toward a station. Ross, Blanche, the girl from district 3, and I are the only ones that don’t move. I take note of who goes straight to weapons. Catria, Brine, and Ridgeback are all at the swords station, slashing away at targets. Dogwood and Crotin are both letting arrows fly. Both have impressive accuracy, but Dogwood’s is deadly. I find Thornton and Thorn-apple throwing spears into dummies’ chests. Hemlock stands alone at the throwing knives station with targets revolving around her. Lastly, Mako and Saul are throwing axes but what I find interesting is that they aim for different areas on the dummy. Saul targets the chest while Mako hits the head, a certainly fatal blow.

“Well, should we work together, Lumina?” Ross asks.

“Sure,” I say. We agree to start at the fire station since neither of us have ever actually made one. It’s slow work, coaxing the wood to spark and my hands fumble with the kindling. After trying to create a fire for about ten minutes, I scowl and let out a small, frustrated growl.

“Here,” a girl’s voice says. Thorn-apple, the volunteer from District 11, crouches next to me and adjusts the sticks in my hands. “You have to have them set like this. Try it now.” I rub the sticks together furiously and then all of a sudden, a spark comes off them. A small flame grows on one of the sticks and I drop them instinctively. “You’ll want to put them down more gently or you could put out the fire,” she smiles. Ross follows what I did and starts a fire of his own. He places the sticks down gently and has a roaring fire in no time. “There you go.”

“Thanks a bunch,” Ross says. “Anything we can help you with?”

“No, I’m just happy to help. Free of charge,” she says, standing up. I get a good look at her for the first time and am immediately drawn to her eyes. They’re almost a gold color and contrast wildly with her tan skin and dark brown hair. She smiles and walks off toward a plant station which I find strange considering her district is known for its agriculture. I wonder if she’s going over there to help people out like she did us. ‘Strange,’ I think skeptically.

Ross and I practice making a few more fires before heading over to the throwing knives. I explain to him that I’ve studied throwing knives and would like to learn how to use them. He understands and walks to the swords station. I pick a knife up from a nearby table and examine it. It’s generally triangular in shape with serrated edges and a black handle. Turning it over in my hands, I review the technique I’ve read about and the physics that explain it. Then I turn to a target and let it fly. It jiggles a bit when it hits the foam. It landed in the fourth ring from the center, straight below the bull’s eye. I throw a few more knives to gather data, all of them hitting in about the same spot. ‘I’m not throwing them hard enough,’ I think. If they move faster, they won’t have time to curve down. Breathing in deeply, I release another knife. This one lands in the ring just outside the center and doesn’t jiggle at all. I mentally pat myself on the back as I throw another. Right outside the bull’s eye. Then another. In the center of the second ring. I breathe in and out a few times with my eyes closed. Focusing with the same intensity I use in school, I open my eyes, flick my wrist and release the knife. Dead center.

I quickly look around the room to see if anybody saw my bull’s eye and am relieved when it doesn’t appear they did. Retrieving the knife, I wise up and begin to aim at a certain spot on the target that isn’t the center. I don’t want people to know that I can use throwing knives with decent accuracy. Ross comes over to me and picks up on what I’m doing. “Nice work,” he says.

“How’s the sword station?” I ask without looking at him.

“Well, besides the fact that it’s crawling with Careers, it’s good. Pretty straight forward. You just kinda swing, you know? Much less involved than say, throwing knives.” He picks up a knife and chucks it rather halfheartedly at the target. It clatters to the floor and immediately after, I hear laughter from behind us. I look to see the Careers, all six of them, gathered together in a group smirking at us with the exception of Dogwood. Glaring at them, I feel rage well up inside me, especially for Mako who stands there with her nose higher than it should be and her arms crossed at her chest. I grip the knife in my hand so tightly that it leaves a deep red mark. Ross notices my anger and puts a hand on my shoulder, saying, “Lumina, you’re kind of scaring me right now. I’d be a lot more comfortable if you’d drop the knife.” Reluctantly, I release the knife and replace it on the table without breaking my glare. “C’mon, let’s head to the snares station.”

He tugs on my arm and I begin to follow, but pull away quickly. In one smooth motion, I grab a knife and throw it right in the center of the target. I smirk triumphantly as the Careers’ faces turn from superior to shocked.


“Well, I don’t think the morning went too badly,” Ross says as he sets his tray of food down across from me at a long lunch table. All of us are eating lunch together in a cafeteria that seems like its way bigger than it needs to be. “That is, of course, if you exclude the fact that we made enemies with the Careers.”

“At least now they don’t see us as a meal,” I reply, biting steak off my fork.

“Right, right. Instead, they see us as competition. Look at that big brute, Brine, I think.” I turn my head discreetly and watch as Brine tears a whole loaf of bread in half. “See? That was a pretty decent death for the bread. But now, he’s going to eat it which means he’s going to chew it which means drawn out pain and suffering. That’s how it’ll be for us.”

“Mind if we sit here?” a familiar voice asks. I look up into the golden eyes of Thorn-apple. She stands behind me with an intimidating group. Saul, a rather tall boy with strong arms from District 7. Ridgeback, need I say more? Crotin, the girl who was practicing archery, and Kaffir, the girl from District 9 whose arms and legs are far stronger looking than my own. I nod in response and Thorn-apple sits to my right. A shadow comes over me as Ridgeback sits to my left. Saul, Crotin, and Kaffir sit on Ross’s side of the table. “Heard you showed up the Careers.”

“Did quite a number by the sound of it. Mako was sure in a huff,” Crotin says.

“Yeah, I guess. I just acted on instinct, though. I wanted to show them that I’m not just some girl from District 5, you know? I’m here to fight,” I reply.

“We’ve been thinking that same thing. The Careers win too much. It’s time for one of the less wealthy districts to come out on top,” Ridgeback says in a voice that sounds like thunder.

“So you want to be allies?” I ask.

“Not necessarily. We just want to sort of form a plan to take down the Careers. We’ve got a good chance. All of us can fight,” Thorn-apple says.

“Uh, correction,” Ross says, raising his hand like he’s in school, “I most definitely cannot fight.”

“I saw you at the swords station earlier. Looked fine to me,” Kaffir says.

Ross smiles and raises his head a bit. “Well, if you think so, then-”

I interrupt him quickly. “So you want us to help you defeat the Careers? Why us?”

“Your brain,” Saul says quietly. It’s the first thing I’ve ever heard him say.

“Heard you’re smart, Lumina. Heard you’re real smart. We could use a brain or two in the operation,” Thorn-apple says.

“I see. Tell me the plan and I’ll consider helping.”

Crotin rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. “That’s the thing. We don’t really…”

“Have a plan,” Ridgeback finishes.

“We were hoping you two could think of one,” Kaffir says, looking from me to Ross.

I consider it for a moment before looking at Ross and nodding. “We’ll give it a go.”


The afternoon was fairly uneventful. Ross wouldn’t let me go anywhere near a weapon, so we stuck around at the survival stations. I refined my knowledge of poisonous and edible plants as well as learned how to set a few snares. When we were all out of time, we headed up to floor five where we met our mentors and Hestia each with an expectant expression. “Well?” Hestia says, “How did it go?”

“I’ll let Lumina tell you all about it,” Ross says. Six anxious eyes turn to me.

“Well, we, uh, we talked to some of the other tributes,” I begin, “And I tried my hand at throwing knives.” Ross let out a single, loud laugh.

“And how did that go?” Kilo asks.

“Yes,” Ross adds, “How did that go, Lumina?”

I decide then to come clean considering that I’ll probably need help getting out of this situation. “I showed the Careers that I can hit the center and it apparently made them mad.” Hestia’s eyes pop and her jaw drops while Kilo and Baryon are completely indifferent. “And now a group of five wants Ross and I to think of a plan to take down the Careers.”

“Who’s in this group of five?” is Kilo’s immediate question. She barely waits for me to finish talking.

“The boy from District 7, the girl from District-”

“What are their names?” she interrupts.

I hesitate, wondering how she could possibly make use of their names, but then I remember she’s just as crafty and smart as I am if not more so. “Saul, Kaffir, Ridgeback, Crotin, and Thorn-apple.”

She seems to consider things for a moment before whispering to Baryon. I strain my ears to listen but they’re both smarter than that. If there’s a reason to keep it quiet, they will without a doubt keep it quiet. “Ross, Lumina, let’s sit down and talk over this plan.”

For what seems like about three minutes but is actually a full hour, all of us, including Hestia, sit together on the couches in front of the TV. They ask for details on all the tributes but in particular, the Careers and this group of five and I break out my notebook to provide them. I jot down important things the two mentors say about the Games. Avoid the Cornucopia, it’s a bloodbath. Water is your best friend. Know where the other tributes are. Then toward the end of the hour, they address the plan. They agree that it’s definitely possible, but that it will require everybody’s participation and cooperation. I throw out the idea of having secret meetings to discuss it and Kilo’s face lights up, something I recognize from my district. It’s the expression of ‘I’ve got it!’.

“During dinner,” she says, “Hold the meetings during dinner. The Careers will be less likely to discover it then. And hold them on District 12’s floor so they won’t be able to hear anything.”

“What if they don’t want to join our noble cause?” I ask.

“Well, you two will just have to persuade them. That or it doesn’t work,” she replies. I ask what to say to them and she simply turns her head to Hestia, saying, “You’re the one that’s good with words.”

Hestia straightens her back and begins what seems like an essay. She informs us that we have to state our cause and reasons for joining it. The information must be presented in a way that is honest and humble, no demanding, insisting, or pleading. We must ask for their cooperation and then prove to them what it will do once we’ve got it.

“It also helps if it seems interesting. So maybe come up with a code name for this group or something,” Hestia finishes.

“The Harrows,” Ross blurts out.

We’re silent for a moment, sounding out the name like a child in our heads. “The Harrows,” Hestia says slowly, “Ross, that’s perfect! It’s simple, but bold and stunning, just like the plan. Great! Now go talk to everyone and persuade them to join the Harrows!”

Ross and I head to the elevator and decide to talk to Thorn-apple first since she seems to be the leader of the group of five. I suppose I didn’t realize that by visiting their floors, we’d be walking right into their temporary home. It feels strange, just sort of barging in and we get strange looks when we step into Thorn-apple’s living room. “We need to talk to you,” I say, looking directly at her.
She asks if we have a plan and Ross explains it to her. She nods her head while he speaks and only asks one question when he’s done. “So I should go talk to the other four?”

Its fifteen minutes before we’re scheduled to meet and all of the districts have agreed to attend the first Harrows meeting. Hestia preps me on how to talk in front of crowds, saying that as the leader of this organization, they’ll expect a few words. I don’t know that I’m the leader, but her help doesn’t hurt anything. She tells me to speak loudly and clearly and look people in the eye when I speak to them. I’m to hold my head high and stand with good posture in order to set a good image. She’s still jabbering when the clock strikes 5:50 and I decide to head up there early. Hestia takes a few swipes at my hair, trying to brush it, I think, and then straightens my shirt before turning to Ross and giving him the same treatment.
Ross follows me to the elevator and as soon as the metal doors close, he says, “You know you’re the leader, right?”
“Thorn-apple’s the leader.”
He shakes his head. “You’re smart, but sometimes, you really are blind.”
The doors open again on floor twelve and we’re greeted by Fir and Wilt, the tributes from District 12. Fir is a small girl who looks like she hasn’t eaten anything in a week. Her skin is pale and her brown hair is short and messy. Wilt looks a little bit healthier, but not much. He has chestnut hair and is much friendlier than Fir. They didn’t take much persuasion earlier when I talked to them; they said that they didn’t have much of a chance anyway, so they may as well give this a go.

I find my way to the fireplace that could easily act as a stage of sorts. Slowly, the other tributes begin to file in, some of them with an expression that says, “So it wasn’t a joke.” Thorn-apple is one of the first to arrive and she smiles at me and nods as though I know what I’m doing. She ushers people inside and requests that they take a seat. Her voice is smooth as silk and her smile is genuine and caring. I wonder what it is that’s made her this way back in District 11. All the invited tributes do as she asks and I realize something about her; she’s a master of persuasion. I’m pretty persuasive myself but I simply use facts to back up my point. She makes it seem like whatever she wants is the right thing, not the smart thing.

Before I can think any more of it, Thorn-apple speaks above everyone, saying, “Everyone’s here, so we’ll get started. For those of you that don’t know, I’m Thorn-apple Frey and this is Lumina Harrow.” She walks like a swan over water as she speaks and finds her way to my side. “We welcome you all to the first meeting of the Harrows. Lumina along with Ross,” she gestures to Ross who then beams, “have been forming a plan for these Hunger Games, so I will turn it over to them.” She looks at me with bright golden eyes and I feel as though the room is closing around me. Thorn-apple sits down next to Crotin and smiles encouragingly.

I cough as all falls silent and I feel 17 pairs of eyes burn into my skin. Ross notices my nervousness and covers for me. He takes a dramatic step forward and speaks in a clear voice. “For years, the Hunger Games have been decided by the Careers. They train for this moment, we all know it. They look forward to squashing us like bugs and eating our carcasses. Some of you may be thinking that this is a little bit gruesome and I don’t disagree, but if we don’t prepare ourselves, we will become the definition of gruesome. Truthfully, the Careers are capable of ripping us to shreds and while I don’t know how you feel, I’d rather not die that way.” Ross joins me where I stand and nods, signaling for me to continue. It’s the type of silent language that only good friends understand.

I decide to start of my speech with a question. “How many of you can think of someone from your district who was killed by a Career?” I raise my hand high and Ross follows suit. Then nothing stirs for a while. It seems like minutes before a reluctant, but strong hand raises. It’s Blanche’s, the girl from District 3. She wears an expression so serious and determined that I think she might just start a riot.

“My father,” she says.

Thorn-apple raises her hand next. “Cousin.” Several other hands find their way up and I hear a chorus of voices. “Sister.” “Mother.” “Boyfriend.” “Grandfather.” “Brother.” Then one strikes me deeply. “Best Friend.” Corona may be able to say that in a few days.
I scour the room for missing hands, but find none. “All of us then. Keep your hand raised if you’d change it if you could.” Not one hand dropped. “I’m here to tell you that you can. But it’ll take all of us working together to do it. It’ll take bravery.” I look into the dark brown eyes of Ridgeback. “Determination.” Blanche’s clear blue eyes find mine. “Intelligence.” Ross smiles at me. “Hope.” All I see are Thorn-apple’s golden irises. “And leadership.” I take a moment to address my posture, straightening my back and lifting my head. “If you are not interested, I request that you please leave now. If you are, stay and I’ll go over strategy for the Games.” All eyes remain fixed on me and it doesn’t feel so much like a huge pressure that towers over me so much as it does responsibility. I’m responsible for the Harrows now. I’m responsible for the lives of the 17 people who have put their hope and pride in a justice that is fragile as a baby mouse. But that justice when used properly may just have the power and ferocity of a pride of lions.

I wake to the phone ringing with a loud and rushed tone. Rolling over on my side, I pick up the phone and press it to the side of my head. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Thorn-apple. A few of us are going down to the training center early. You should join us. It’ll surprise the heck out of the Careers,” my golden-eyed friend says. I tell her I’ll be down in a few minutes and throw the thick blanket to the side of the bed. Almost falling off the bed since my legs decided they weren’t going to function, I put on the training uniform and exit my room. Hestia gives me quite a shocked expression when she sees me but shows me to my breakfast which consists of three strawberry crepes. They’re the best thing I’ve ever eaten and Hestia says that it’s a fairly common dish in the Capitol. ‘I’d be so fat if I ate like this all the time,’ I think.

I ask Hestia to wake up Ross while I eat and he emerges from his room fairly quickly, his hair wildly messy and seeming to defy gravity. “Why am I awake right now?” he asks as he rubs his eyes, sitting down at the table with me.

“We’re going down earlier with some others to surprise the Careers,” I explain between mouthfuls.

“You don’t think that makes it obvious that something’s up?” I shake my head side to side and he digs into a pile of crepes twice the size of mine. He finishes eating before I do and after doing some quick calculations, I determine that he eats at a dangerous speed.

As soon as we’re both ready, we take what seems like the hundredth ride in the elevator and arrive on the training floor. Not a Career in sight. Perfect. We’re pulled over to the group of five and are greeted with smiles and handshakes which I find strange at first. Then I remember reading about how the higher numbered districts are more old-fashioned and still shake hands as a perfectly normal gesture; Its even polite to do so. In District 5, a simple head nod is sufficient. We’d rather not waste time on greeting each other when we know they’re there and they’re there every day of the week.

“Can’t wait for them to get down here,” Kaffir says, referring to the Careers. An expression of confidence and triumph is plastered onto her face. We all agree and laugh when she starts sampling some possible reactions of the Careers. I don’t find it that funny, but can’t help it when she puffs out her chest and hold her arms out to sides of her body like she’s about to explode from her own muscle and discusses the diet of a District 4 champion. Apparently, Mako had the courtesy to lecture Kaffir on proper nutrition. And then the moment we’ve been waiting for comes.

The elevator door opens and the girl of the conversation accompanied by her unbelievably larger partner walk out. Mako and Brine stare at our faces, red from laughter, and I get the feeling she catches a glimpse of Kaffir’s words and pose. Her face reddens, but for a different reason than ours, and she charges at Kaffir, taking her by the collar. The smiles disappear from our faces as she lifts Kaffir a few inches above the floor. I look around frantically for Atala, thinking that she’d step in, but instead she’s talking to the other Gamemakers. I turn back to the scene when I hear Mako start hissing out words that I can’t understand. Kaffir’s face is red and she’s gasping for air now. I clench my fists and prepare to step in. “Put her down,” I demand in a voice so strong and firm that I don’t recognize it.

Mako glares at me and if looks could kill, they’d be missing a District 5 tribute right about now. To my surprise, she releases Kaffir and comes at me. My body stiffens. “You think you can tell me what to do, Five?” she shouts as her hands find my collar. I can feel her begin to lift me up, but before she can, Ridgeback tears her hands off of me and says one simple word.

“Back.” She obeys his command and backs up, but Brine steps forward and looks Ridgeback in the eye. I stifle a giggle when I notice that even Brine has to look a little bit up to meet Ridgeback’s eyes. Ridgeback knows this too because he smiles a little bit and hunches his shoulders so him and Brine are at the same height. Brine scowls at him but resists the urge to attack which I imagine is eating away at him like termites on wood. Saul finds his way beside Ridgeback and they both straighten their backs, reaching their full height. They’re both a couple of inches taller than Brine.

“Back,” Saul says. Brine backs up into Mako who then falls over onto her back end. We smirk a bit at them as Mako stands, refusing Brine’s help, and they walk away. They know they’ve been beaten. They know we’ve won this time, but I get the feeling that they’ll come back for seconds. As I recall reading once, Mako is a type of shark known for its speed and general capability to kill. Another thing I’ve learned about sharks is that they don’t often give up on a kill.

When the other Careers arrive, they sport the same surprised and slightly disgusted expression as Mako and Brine, but manage to avoid attacking us. They all huddle together and whisper to themselves. In an obvious attempt to get back at us, they roar with fake laughter and pretend to wipe tears from their eyes. Kaffir then pulls out a dirty joke that makes us all erupt with natural laughter ten times the volume of theirs. We’ve won again.

Slowly, the other tributes begin to file in, some look incredibly tired and I wonder if they stayed up all night, thinking about the Harrows meeting. Atala gives us a few reminders about training and then sets us loose. Kaffir grabs my arm and despite my instinctive resistance, she drags me over to the far side of the training center where a small track is located. I hadn’t even noticed it yesterday, but Kaffir clearly had. “I’m going to teach you to run. We decided last night that we’ve all got a strong skill that we should teach to others and mine’s running, so here we go,” she says. “I was elected a runner in my district which is someone who runs tools and bushels from point A to point B and I learned an awful lot about running. You want to get a real good start.” She demonstrates how to crouch a little bit and then bolt off. She sprints halfway down the track, utilizing her long legs to the fullest, and I suddenly understand why she was ‘elected a runner’. I’m not entirely certain what that means, but I imagine it’s pretty self-explanatory. Kaffir jogs back to me, breathing as though she was relaxing on a beach in District 4. “You’re turn.” I place my right leg in front of me, bending it at a 90 degree angle and then press the toes of my left foot to the ground. Kaffir adjusts my position a bit and then shouts go. Forcing my left leg forward with all the strength I can muster, I take off down the track, stopping where she did. My breathing is quick and harsh on my lungs and I can already feel fatigue in my legs. Then it occurs to me that I’ve never really had exercise in my life. I’ve never jogged, gone swimming, or lifted weights besides a keyboard. Walking back to her, I place my hands on my head, allowing my lungs to expand further. Kaffir raises an eyebrow at me and says, “You’re out of shape, girl. What do you do all day?”

“Sit in front of a computer,” I reply between breaths.

“That explains it. We’ve got quite a bit of work to do then,” she says, “You’re pretty fast, but you could be faster. Don’t think so much about the power involved in your legs, just think about moving one leg after the other as quick as possible. Try again.”

I prepare myself again and then blast off, much faster this time. Though I’m looking forward, I picture my legs in my mind moving faster and faster, and somehow my legs receive that image. Without realizing it, I run the whole lap and when I finish, Kaffir’s wearing a surprised expression. “You improve quickly,” she says, as she crouches on the start line, “Ready? Go!” She takes off down the track, gaining quite a lead on me, but she caught me off guard. I suppose that’s the Hunger Games, though. Kaffir beats me rather handily, but as soon as she does, I ready myself for another race.

We race for an hour straight and by the last race, I’m able to stand my ground against her. I can’t beat her or even tie her, but I’m only a couple of feet behind her and considering that she’s been doing this her whole life and I’ve been doing it for sixty minutes, I’m happy with the results. And I can tell Kaffir is impressed too. “Not bad, Lumina. Not bad at all. Think that’s enough running for today. You’ll be able to get by on that much,” she says, still not breathing all that heavily. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m having an asthma attack. “Now what’s your skill?”

I pause for a moment, thinking it over. “I can teach you how to use electricity.” Kaffir’s eyes go about as bright as light bulbs. And thus begins the slightly frustrating process of teaching people who are fairly unfamiliar with electricity how utilize it.

My electricity class begins with just Kaffir. I start by teaching her how to connect batteries and wires to a small light bulb so that it lights up. It takes her a while to figure it out and I’m not a great teacher, but she manages to get a lit up bulb in the end. Then Ridgeback takes notice and sits down beside Kaffir. He doesn’t need much help getting his bulb lit which sort of surprises me. He doesn’t strike me as the quick learner type. Just after he gets his set up working, Thorn-apple and Crotin waltz over and join us. They both learn fairly quickly and I’m able to move past light bulbs and onto giving out electric shocks which is a technique used in the Games. A victor from District 3, Beetee, I think was his name, created an electric force field so whenever people tried to attack him they got electrocuted. This project doesn’t go nearly as well as the light bulbs. All of us got shocked at some point, including myself, and we only got one functional. They’re tricky things. Shockers aren’t easy to make or use. You always run the risk of injuring or killing yourself when you use one, but some people can work miracles on them. Ross, for instance, is one of those people. When he heard Crotin swear after being zapped for the fifth time, he came over and adjusted a few things in her shocker. After that, I allow him to take over the class and go over to the shelter station where I find Saul all by himself.

I approach him cautiously, feeling a little bit awkward since he’s so quiet, and observe him working. He’s created a wooden tent large enough to fit three people comfortably. It’s got leaves strung together on string acting as the roof and walls. It’s ingenuous, really. The wood is sturdy enough to withstand wind and the leaves will keep the rain out, but you could still easily move the leaves to look outside. Saul is currently weaving long strands of wood together, his dark brown hair hanging low and covering his eyes. “How did you make that?” I venture.

“Got sticks, put them in the ground, tied them together, got leaves, tied them together,” he says, not looking up from his work.

“Can you show me?” I ask. Up until lunch, I spend my time with Saul, learning how to weave nets to put on top of shelter; they work better than leaves apparently. He shows me how to put the branches in the ground far enough that they’ll be nice and sturdy and then how to tie them together adequately. It’s not something hard for me to work with since I understand it from an architectural point of view, but I still appreciate the guidance of someone who’s an expert in the field. And Saul certainly is an expert. He treats wood like a child. He’s careful and gentle, but assertive when needed too. It amazes me, but I suppose my knowledge would amaze people too. It’s just what you’re good at.

I spend a lot of time with other tributes in the afternoon. Hawksbill, the boy from District 8, teaches me how to sew by hand. He even rips his training uniform and has me patch it up which I find strange. I learn a bit of hand to hand combat from Ridgeback which was frightening to say the least. Crotin tries to teach me archery but I really have no talent for it and we both give up. Knots also find a way into my set of skills, thanks to the help from Tokara, the boy from District 9.

After training, Hestia and Kilo begin preparing me for my interview which is coming up in two days. Hestia has me walk around in heels and drills me on my posture and speech. Kilo takes a more practical approach and discusses what type of image I should have. I know exactly what she’s talking about. During each of the interviews, tributes portray themselves in different ways. Some go the attractive route, others appear strong and vicious, while a handful will attempt to be remembered as quiet and mysterious. It’s decided that the best approach for me is ‘pure’. I’m told to just be myself and that I won’t need to act at all which is a relief, but the thought still makes me want to throw up. Standing in front of thousands of people isn’t exactly my strong suit, but I figure I’ll have to do well at it if I want to get any sponsors.

At the Harrows meeting, I explain what I learned earlier about the interviews and we each pick a theme for ourselves. It goes exceptionally well and everybody seems to enjoy themselves. A few people even laugh. After we’ve successfully determined a theme for everybody, I discuss the events of tomorrow. “Tomorrow is the last day of training which means we’ll be evaluated on our skills and given a score. You probably know that the scores range from 1 to 12 and that the higher the score, the more sponsors you’re likely to get.”

Blanche, the girl from District 3, raises her hand and asks, “How do we get a higher score?”

“They’ll be looking for some sort of offensive skill, but what you really want to do is leave an impression. The Gamemakers see 24 tributes. Make them remember you,” I reply. She nods and seems perfectly content with my answer. Then the meeting’s over and we all make our way back to our rooms, but my head is buzzing with thoughts. ‘What am I going to show the Gamemakers? I’ll obviously use throwing knives, but what else can I do?’

“You’re worried about tomorrow, aren’t you?” Ross asks in a soft tone. I nod in response. “Don’t be. You’re going to do great.”

“There’s no guarantee of that, Ross.”

“No, there isn’t. But I’d say there’s about a 90% likelihood and that’s a chance I’m willing to take,” he says.

I find myself sitting in a room just outside the training center with Ross, waiting nervously for my name to be called. Silence sits over us like a lead blanket and refuses to budge. I’ve planned out my private training session. I know what I’ll do, but still, I can’t keep my foot from rapidly tapping. This is one of my few opportunities to impress the Gamemakers and if I blow it, they’ll target me for sure, but if I excel, they’ll try to shake things up and target me. I have to play these Games somewhat like Kilo. Average and overlookable.

They call my name in a robotic voice and I enter the training center. It looks so much different without about 40 people buzzing around in it. It’s like when you get used to seeing something in the summer and then you visit it in the winter. The Gamemakers are focused on me as I stand before them, saying, “Lumina Harrow, District 5.” They nod, signaling for me to go ahead.

I grab some throwing knives first and show them how accurate I can be. Out of the ten I throw, eight of them land directly in the center and the other two pierce the nine point ring. A few of them raise their eyebrows and whisper to one another saying things like “Not bad” and “Pretty good”. Then I run over and grab the materials needed to build a shocker, setting to work immediately. Fortunately, it cooperates with me and I’ve got the gadget completed within five minutes. I request someone to demonstrate on and a tough looking man in a black uniform steps forward. After setting the shocker to half power, I press the end of the wires to the man’s chest and he’s flung backward a total of six feet. He lands with a thud and his eyelids fall closed. I think he’s dead for a moment and I’ve made a horrible miscalculation, but slowly, his eyes flutter open. He looks like he’s incredibly sore when he stands, but he manages, and walks away from me, rubbing his chest. I’m pretty proud of myself and then that pride is further increased when the Gamemakers give me impressed looks. I prepare to do some running, to show them how fast I am, but the Head Gamemaker stands up. He’s a tall, thin man who has curly purple hair and wears a black and white pinstriped suit. His name is Erra and he’s been Head Gamemaker for six consecutive years. “Your time is up. Thank you, Lumina. You are dismissed.” It’s over. That’s all it took. I exit the room with my head held high, knowing that I didn’t show my full potential, but showed enough potential to be promising. As soon as I see Ross, I wish him good luck and then turn away. I’d talk to him more, but I know that he has to report for his private training session and I have to leave mine. So I take the elevator up to my floor and rest until Ross is finished.

When he arrives, he doesn’t seem near as confident as I am. In fact, he doesn’t seem like himself at all. His hair is more messed up than usual which means he’s been running his hands through it and whenever he does that, I know that he’s frustrated. I’m not sure why he does it; answers won’t fall from his scalp.

“I didn’t have anything to show them, Lumina,” he says, “I just made a shocker and pretended to know how to use a sword.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m sure you did fine, Ross,” I tell him. He says that I can’t be sure of anything. It’s the Hunger Games. “You’re right, I can’t. But I’d say there’s about a 90% likelihood and that’s a chance I’m willing to take.” He’s quiet after that.

It’s crazy how quickly things pass here. In three days, we’ve banded together against the Careers. In three days, we’ve gained the ability to kill. Tomorrow, we’ll all be interviewed and presented to the public. And in two days, we’ll be in the arena, fighting to the death. Then I think things through. In two days, about half of us will be dead.

- - -


I’m sitting in front of the television with Ross, Hestia, our mentors, Sora, and some strange man. I assume he’s Ross’s stylist but he hasn’t said anything to me or to anyone for that matter. He’s rather tall with a wild man look to him. His hair is jet black and juts out in every direction imaginable. If I had to describe him in three words, I’d use intimidating, dark, and cold. He’s got bright red eyes and it doesn’t look like he knows how to use a razor. We’re all waiting for the training scores in silence, but thanks to Hestia, the quiet doesn’t last long.

“This is Ross’s stylist, everyone,” she says, gesturing to the wild man. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Crow,” he grunts. His name fits him perfectly and I wonder if he chose that name.

The news channel flashes on and I see the two famous hosts of the Hunger Games, Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith. Caesar changes his hair color every year and this year, it’s a neon green. “Hello, Panem!” he says, “And welcome to the news! As you know, today was the day of private training sessions for all the tributes which means we’ve got all of the training scores for you! Without further delay, let us begin.” The screen behind them shows a picture of Thornton, the boy from District 1. “District 1’s Thornton with a score of 10.” Then it switches to Catria. “District 1’s Catria with a score of 9.” On to Dogwood. “District 2’s Dogwood with a score of,” he pauses, “11.” As I said, he’s one to look out for. I’m not sure I want to know what he showed them to get that score, but I bet floor 2 is pretty loud right now. I stop looking at the pictures then and just listen. “District 2’s Hemlock with a score of 10. District 3’s Ewin with a score of 5. District 3’s Blanche with a score of 7. District 4’s Brine with a score of 10. District 4’s Mako with a score of 11.” Here it comes. “District 5’s Ross with a score of 7.” I smile at Ross and he smiles back as everybody congratulates him. “District 5’s Lumina with a score of 8.” We all break out in carefree laughter and rejoice for a second or two before focusing on the screen again. Kilo said it’s actually more important to pay attention to the other tribute’s scores. “District 6’s Hesper with a score of 5. District 6’s Avery with a score of 3. District 7’s Saul with a score of 10. District 7’s Echevaria with a score of 6. District 8’s Hawksbill with a score of 6. District 8’s Aba with a score of 4. District 9’s Tokara with a score of 7. District 9’s Kaffir with a score of 8. District 10’s Ridgeback with a score of 11. District 10’s Crotin with a score of 8. District 11’s Orson with a score of 4. District 11’s Thorn-apple with a score of 11. District 12’s Wilt with a score of 2. District 12’s Fir with a score of 4.” Four elevens in one year. The Hunger Games are getting intense. Dogwood and Ridgeback. Two fierce competitors who stand on opposite sides. Mako and Thorn-apple. Two fiercer competitors. “Wow,” Caesar says, “Can you say rivalry?”

- - -


We hold our last Harrows meeting and it ends up being the most somber of them all. There are 18 of us, so I come up with the idea to form groups of three for the Games. Everybody agrees to it and Ross and I organize the trios, trying to hold an average of the training scores at about six. We think we’ve got it as good as it’ll get when we realize we’ve got people with very similar skill sets in the same group. That’s a waste of strength, so we split them up and mix everyone around like scrambled eggs until they’re where we want them. The groups stand together across the room and I look over them from left to right. First, there’s the group of Thorn-apple, Echevaria, and Wilt. Then Saul, Ewin, and Fir. Ridgeback, Aba, and Orson. Crotin, Tokara, Avery. Lastly, Kaffir, Hawksbill, and Hesper. Then I look to my right. Standing bravely and proudly by my side is Ross and Blanche. We’re all intellectual people, but in very different ways and that makes our group very strong. Our training score average is 7.3.

I begin to dismiss everyone, but Thorn-apple steps in and says, “Actually, Lumina, we thought we might stay a bit longer. I’d like to say something to everybody.” I nod and allow her to have the front of the room. “What we’ve done is amazing and I want you all to know that. Whatever happens in that arena, we’ve done the impossible. We’ve worked against the Careers and we’ve thrown them for a loop. Nobody’s done that. These past three days, we’ve done one of the best things that Panem will never know. And that, my friends, is a cause to celebrate. So Hesper, if everything is ready, take it away.” Without warning, loud music plays throughout the floor, the penthouse, now that I think about it and everybody starts dancing. Some, such as Ewin, dance awkwardly as if they’re not sure how to move at all, but others, such as Kaffir, completely let loose and act like animals. Dancing’s not really my thing, so I make the decision to go outside.

The air feels wonderful on my skin. It’s light and a bit cold, gently moving my hair and clothes. I look over the edge of the balcony and find millions of lights staring back at me. It’s simple and beautiful like a flower; there’s not much to it and you’re not sure why it’s so pretty, but it is and you can’t peel your eyes away from it. I hear the door open behind me and look back, expecting to see Ross, but instead, I find Ridgeback. “Dancing isn’t your thing either?” I ask.

He laughs and says no, making his way over to the edge with me. “It’s beautiful,” he says, “It’s hard to believe that this is the home of the Gamemakers. The Capitol is stunning, but it’s filled with murderers.”

“Don’t blame the Gamemakers. They’re just doing their job,” I say.

“I’ve been at the mercy of men just doing their job,” he replies, “A riot formed in District 10 last year because the Capitol kept taking our food and leaving us with nothing to eat. We got sick of it and started attacking the Peacekeepers. Of course, they fought back. Killed my parents when they did which leaves me and my siblings.”

“How many do you have?”

“Five,” he answers, “Three brothers and two sisters.”

“You’re brave,” I tell him, “I wish I could figure out how to be as brave as you.”

“I’m brave because it’s a responsibility, Lumina. I didn’t choose for my parents to die, but I did choose to take care of the rest of my family and I chose to take on two jobs just to feed them,” he says, putting an emphasis on the word choose. “And I didn’t choose to be here.”

“Who did besides the Careers?” I snort. He answers by saying Thorn-apple. I ask who she volunteered for.

“A complete stranger. She wanted to enter the Hunger Games because she’s got a small scale orphanage going. She takes care of children who’ve lost their parents, but she can’t support them without some more money. And we all know if you win the Hunger Games, you get more money than you could ever need,” Ridgeback explains. He hesitates. “I hate to say this, but how long do you think the Harrows are really going to last?”

“I’m not sure. I know people will still be killed by the Careers and everything, but-”

He interrupts me. “That’s not what I meant. I meant how long do you think we’ll all still be an alliance. People will get greedy, Lumina. They’ll see that they have a shot at winning and turn against you. There are some pretty big threats on our side. Take Crotin for example. She could grab a bow and kill you in an instant if she wanted to. You could easily take a spear to the stomach from Thorn-apple and that geek Ewin certainly knows what he’s doing with technology. Our team is lethal, Lumina, and you’ve taught them to know it. I bet some of them are already planning to turn against us.”

I let the thought stew in my mind for a while before I speak up again. “Are you?”

“No,” he says, “It makes sense to me to ally with those that are stronger than me, so I won’t ever attack you.”

“I’m not stronger than you. I think that’s pretty obvious,” I laugh.

“Maybe not stronger,” he says, “But you’re faster and smarter and that can mean all the difference in the Games.”



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JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This book has 6 comments.


on Sep. 9 2014 at 2:56 pm
MortalDreamer5 BRONZE, Plainfield, Illinois
3 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
"They can say whatever they want about you, but they can never break you. Only you can break you."

This is AMAZING!

AsIAm PLATINUM said...
on Sep. 21 2012 at 7:57 am
AsIAm PLATINUM, Somewhere, North Carolina
48 articles 3 photos 606 comments

Favorite Quote:
"According to some, heroic deaths are admirable things. (Generally those who don't have to do it. Politicians and writers spring to mind.) I've never been convinced by this argument, mainly because, no matter how cool, stylish, composed, unflappable, manly, or defiant you are, at the end of the day you're also dead. Which is a little too permanent for my liking." — Jonathan Stroud (Ptolemy's Gate)

I'd love to. :)

on Sep. 21 2012 at 7:01 am
milforce SILVER, Bloomington, Illinois
9 articles 0 photos 135 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Those who have the ability to act, have the responsibility to act."

Hahahaha, I'll post another chapter soon. Probably this weekend if you wouldn't mind reading it :)

AsIAm PLATINUM said...
on Sep. 20 2012 at 10:06 pm
AsIAm PLATINUM, Somewhere, North Carolina
48 articles 3 photos 606 comments

Favorite Quote:
"According to some, heroic deaths are admirable things. (Generally those who don't have to do it. Politicians and writers spring to mind.) I've never been convinced by this argument, mainly because, no matter how cool, stylish, composed, unflappable, manly, or defiant you are, at the end of the day you're also dead. Which is a little too permanent for my liking." — Jonathan Stroud (Ptolemy's Gate)

Thanks - I'm glad I could help. HAHA I'm glad it's not just me deluding myself ;) Tell me when you post more. Mine is really long so it more than makes up for this one, so if you want me to read another, or the rest of this one (if you wanted to send it over nanowrimo or something) I'd be happy too. And NO, this has nothing to do with wanting to know how this ends OR wanting to see Ridgeback. *lying through my keyboard*

on Sep. 20 2012 at 8:03 pm
milforce SILVER, Bloomington, Illinois
9 articles 0 photos 135 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Those who have the ability to act, have the responsibility to act."

Thank you so much for your feedback! It's wonderful!! I'll check out your novel this weekend. Also, Ridgeback is totally hot :) Just for the record

AsIAm PLATINUM said...
on Sep. 20 2012 at 6:05 pm
AsIAm PLATINUM, Somewhere, North Carolina
48 articles 3 photos 606 comments

Favorite Quote:
"According to some, heroic deaths are admirable things. (Generally those who don't have to do it. Politicians and writers spring to mind.) I've never been convinced by this argument, mainly because, no matter how cool, stylish, composed, unflappable, manly, or defiant you are, at the end of the day you're also dead. Which is a little too permanent for my liking." — Jonathan Stroud (Ptolemy's Gate)

I really like this! The idea is great - it pulled me away from my flesh-and-ink book and kept me interested. I'm invested in the characters and dying to know how it ends. I also think you did a very good job of making the Panem world your own. This is very hard to do - kudos on that. And I'm sorry, but Ridgeback sounds really hot. Maybe that's just me, but it is impressive that you are able to make your characters real enough for people to fall in love with them.   That being said, nobody grows without criticism, and while I think this is an excellent story, I think it could stand for a couple more revision cycles. There are a few things that don't quite fit:   1. Some of the dialogue is awkward and rings a little false. To improve this, I suggest you get into the Character Development world in the Fiction Forum. The better you know your characters, the more natural their voices sound.   2. An avid HG fan myself, I was a little confused with some of the details. Why is her stylist so helpful? (I know Cinna was but the book gave you the feeling that was rare) Same with Hestia - Effie was pretty useless. Also, why are they on floor 6 if they're district 5? How can they sneak around together so easily? Why wouldn't the Careers think it's odd that the others came down early?   3. The bit about the dance was a little odd to me... The Hunger Games doesn't seem like the time people are feeling good about anything. It seems like most people would be worrying about who will live and who will betray them etc, rather than being happy that they stood up for themselves, no matter what the next day brings. Perhaps have it a little more tense? Stiff, warrior humor? Of course it's your story, it just struck me as a little odd.   4. Purely stylistically (is that a word?), I think that you can continue to improve this. Especially in the beginning, the sentences are run-on and feel a little rushed.  Also, remember to show rather than tell, and to not underestimate the reader - don't tell them things they can guess on their own. Remember, less is more - the road to h*** is paved in adjectives. ;) In general though, I think you do a good job of avoiding such things.   As I said, I really really enjoyed. Nothing is ever perfect, and I think yours is at that stage between "oh gosh why did I think it was a good idea to write this" and "this as good as I can possibly make it". Still room to improve, but very good all the same. Best of luck, and I hope to see where you go with it. Would you mind looking at my novel and giving me some feedback? To clarify, it's called Unconquerable Soul, and by "feedback" I mean "rip it apart with your bare hands and throw what's left of it at me". Really, there's no such thing as mean - I want to hear it all.