HungerGames72

ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ᵉⁱᵍʰᵗᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵒᵒʰᵒᵒ!

I sit on the couch for several minutes, watching the little dust particles dance about in the rays of light. After a while, I realise it's just me in the apartment.
I curl up on the soft cushions, pulling my knees up to my chest. It's so warm here, so safe. If only I could just lie here forever. Slowly, my eyes begin to droop, before I finally drift off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

🌙✨🌝

☾Clementine? Is that you? ☾
I open my eyes groggily. A bright light beams into my eyes.

☾ Clemmie? ☾ whispers a voice. A familiar voice.
I sit up suddenly.
☾August? ☾

Brown eyes float above me, blinking softly.
☾Clemmie, it's me-☾
✨🌙✨

"Rise and shine, Clementine!" Yells Archimedes, yanking me out of my peaceful slumber. I groan loudly, grabbing a cushion and covering my face.
"That's the spirit! But you better get up quick, I've given you a long lie. Training starts in an hour, and you've got to be there sharp."
I sit bolt upright. "Breakfast?"
He nods. "Over there."
I look over to the dining table, where Cinnamon, Drayton, Daya and the prep teams sit. Daya waves cheerily. "Toast?"

After a slightly awkward breakfast, I shuffle into my room.
It's gorgeous, high ceilings and marble pillars glowing in the morning sun. The bed looks so incredibly comfy I instantly regret sleeping on the couch, considering it might be one of my last nights sleeping in a bed.
I stop myself from thinking any more, and slip into the bathroom. My makeup from last night is still smeared on my face, although a bit smudged, which makes me slightly resemble a panda.
I struggle out of my cow dress and wash, then I pull on the fancy training suit. The black suit feels like a second skin, perfectly aerodynamic and probably waterproof too. In the mirror I look like an absolute badass, ready for a day of training.
A shame that in real life, I could already feel the nervous sweat running down my neck. After splashing my face with the cold water I feel a bit more alive, but still the idea of the day ahead turns my legs to jelly.
"Ready yet?" Barks Cinnamon.
I take one last look at myself. I could do this, couldn't I?
"Hurry up, you can't be tardy on your first day!"
I open the lock and swing the door open.
"Did you not shower?" She squeaks.
"No. No I did not. I was trying to not fall over, thank you."
She sighs. "Let's get going. Drayton?"
Drayton is sitting hunched at the window, his head in his hands. Hearing Cinnamon, he resists for a second, before reluctantly getting up.
We follow her back into the lift, where she presses the 'G' button with her perfectly manicured hands.
"You were right." I mumble to Drayton. "G is for the training floor."
He nods, but scoots closer to me, our shoulders brushing.
Some tiny flecks of white are still on his face from yesterday, but otherwise his face is clean. I, on the other hand, have badger eyes and unbrushed hair, but I quite like that way. I feel like myself. Like the farm girl from ten.
The doors slide open with the familiar cheery 'ping!'.
Cinnamon nods her head for us to follow. We're led into a dark lobby, where just two other people stand.
"Well, I've got to leave you now. Ta-ta." She says curtly, already back in the lift.
"She's a bundle of laughs." Says a voice from the shadows. It's the boy from nine again.
"Oho, it's a non stop laugh fest with our Cinnamon." Mutters Drayton. "I know absolutely nothing about any tactics or whatever shite we're supposed to know. Big fat fucking whoopee."
The boy laughs. "I guess we struck gold with ours. Rayan actually wants us to stay alive. Which is a plus. She's alright, isn't she?"
The girl in the corner whispers something quietly.
"Yeah, she's cool. Oh, sorry. I'm Galileo. Nice to meet you." He extends a hand to Drayton, then me. His hands are small and slender, and oddly cold.
"I'm Clementine." I offer my hand to the quivering girl.
She takes it tentatively, and only shakes for a few seconds.
"Eleanor." She whispers.
"Nice to meet you, Eleanor."
Drayton smiles at her. "Nice meeting you."
The lift squeaks open to reveal both District one and two, who enter the lobby with an air of triumph, as if they'd already won.
"Sizing up the competition, eh, pretty boys?" Snarks Copper, grinning spitefully and showing off his sharp teeth.
"Not much to size up by the looks of things." Drayton snaps, staring him dead in the eyes.
"Oooh, mummy's boy has a spark, does he? What a shame the next time mummy'll see him is in a pretty wooden box."
Drayton grabs Coppers wrist and pins it against the wall.
"Say one more word about my mother and all that'll be left to send back to yours is a few of those pretty little teeth."
Dragon, the girl from one, holds Copper's shoulder. "Don't listen to him. We'll get him first in the arena. See if he's so brave then."
The career tributes retreat to the corner furthest away from us. They don't try to quieten their voices as they discuss every possible way they could...eliminate us. Before anyone snaps again, the lift opens again. Three, eleven and five nervously shuffle into the hall.
Apart from one. The girl from five saunters right up to the careers, and whispers in menacing tones to them, to quiet for us to hear.
Copper wheezes. "You think we'd let you join? Oh, you're really only just a pretty face, aren't you?"
"Listen!" Cries the girl, her nose almost touching his. "If you don't let me join, you'll be first dead."
Copper wheezes.
"I'd watch your back, smart-ass." The girl turns on her heel and marches right next to the door, and watches us all intently for the next while, as the lobby fills up with more and more tributes.
When the digital clock displays 10:00 am the giant metal shutters open.
A woman in a dark suit similar to my own stands in the middle of the gigantic training hall. Different stations have every weapon imaginable, from spear and swords to humongous weights. A complicated-looking climbing wall covers one side, and across the ceiling are climbing ropes and bars. In one corner sits a pile of forest materials, and in another ropes and strings.
"Come, come." Says the woman, her dark skin glowing golden in the strange artificial lighting. "Twenty-four of you stand here today. In around two weeks, twenty-three of you will be dead."
The realisation almost brings me to the ground. Over seventy years of games, hundred of tributes dead, and I thought I could outsmart them? I really thought some measly, shitty pills were going to get me, get us out alive?
"Most deaths aren't murder, though. Sometimes the elements get to you first. A fever cause by bad quality water combined with a cold night can take you out quicker than the tribute who can use a spear."
Velvet nudges Harlow and whispers "nightlock."
"So spread your time out evenly. Don't just stick at the archery section, just because that's what you were best at in your town. These aren't 'the buffest boy in the neighbourhood' games. It takes a balance to win. Now- if you follow me this way,"
For the next half hour, the lady shows us around the training hall and introduces us to the gamemakers, who are seated in a little balcony above us, watching and taking notes on our performance. Well, that's what they're supposed to do. It's only around half ten in the morning and already about five of them have cocktails in their hands.
We get told that lunch is at half twelve in the dining room attached to the gymnasium hall, and that we train from then until about half past seven or so.
After a few more rules, the lady (who I found out is called Atla) finishes her speech. As soon as the last words leave her lips Copper sprints over to the archery station, and while we're all watching him he takes the opportunity to shoot the dummy square in the head.
He turns, holding his arrows over his head. "This. This is what happens when you mess with me."
The girl from five scoffs. "Oh, please."
"You too, girlie. I bet those pretty hands can't do this. Maybe if you be quiet I'll let you on my team."
She pulls a face in indignation, before running up to the spear section, grabbing one, and throwing it.
Copper's bow dangles from the wall, held up by the still quivering spear.
She spits. "Oh no! Who'll protect me now?"
We stand still, glued to the drama. No one dares to move.
"What you looking at, assholes?" Yells Copper.

"Let's go." Says Drayton. "Will we just go around all the stations?"
"Sounds like a plan."
We go to the sword section first, but after I drop my sword on my toes I decide to just watch Drayton fumble about and correct him on his technique.
"No, no- hold it a bit higher. They're gonna try hit your chest, not your knees."
"Oh, sorry. That's why you protected your toes, huh?"
"Yes. That's why I protected my toes."
He holds it higher. "Better?"
"Better. Try hitting that dummy thing."
He starts to smack the dummy in the sides with the flat of the sword.
"One clang of this guy on the head and it'll knock you out like a light." He muses, turning it about in his hands.
"You'd need a pretty big one to knock out his thick skull." I mutter,watching Copper swing from the ceiling ropes and hurtle abuse at the other tributes.
"What a compassionate, friendly soul."
"I think the boy from eleven is coming over." I say, watching him leave the archery station. "D'you want to go somewhere else or?"
"You can, if you like. I'll practise with him."
This version of Drayton is very different from the surly, angry boy that I met three days ago. I suppose the plan was giving him hope. Even if it doesn't work, at least it's made him a bit happier.
"Ok, well, I'll be at the fire building station if you need me. See you at lunch."
"See you." He says, before stabbing the dummy right in the chest.
"Nice one."

I try to walk confidently past the other tributes, but I probably just look like I have severe cramps. Dragon and the girl from four, Coral, are fighting. They shout criticism at each other while ducking and punching. Harlow sits at the side, and yells all the best places to hit someone to knock them out.
I speed past them,just in case.
At the climbing wall, Oak and Pigeon from three are trying to scale the walls and failing miserably. Ivy from eleven takes pity on them and goes to help, showing them where to put their feet and how to tell if something can support your weight.
I reach the fire station.
The boy from five, Mars, I think his name is, sits scraping flint together, making a spark.
"Hello." I squeak. "Can I sit here?"
He looks up, surprised. "Yeah, of course you can."
I poke at some of the sticks scattered across the floor, feeling for the dry and brittle ones. When I was younger,sometimes me and August would go up to the forest and build a fire, and he'd always send me away to find the best sticks.
I find quite a fire-worthy one and keep it by my side, and begin setting up a circle of rocks. I place the smallest sticks in the middle, along with some moss and dry bark. Then, I add the twigs and bigger sticks.
I hold out my hand. "Could I have the flint, if that's ok?"
He hands it to me, watching intently.
I scrape the flint with a pocket knife, and tiny sparks go into the twigs.
"Shit, I forgot." I look at Mars. "Try get something to shave the flint with, and put them in the fire first. I always seem to forget that."

Little tiny bits of flint go into the fire as Mars shaves it with a serrated knife.  He adds the twigs and dry bark, then makes the flint spark.
Within a minute a small fire is going, crackling away.
He grins. "Toasty."