Playing With Fire (A Hunger Games fanfic)

Chapter 6: Training

September 15, 2147 the Capitol of Panem

Electra's POV:
The Hunger Games are scheduled to begin on September 18, so the tributes are forced to spend the next three days in training.

There are several different stations, with skills ranging from knot tying to combat lessons. The tributes are allowed to go to any station they choose, although sparring with the other tributes is forbidden. There are trainers on hand if we want to practice with a partner.

As a make my way to the combat station, Cinna's face flashes in my mind. I'm here to help you make an impression.

I realize he's right, my only chance is to make a lasting impression on everyone. Impressions are the difference between survival and death, and not just in fashion. I have to make sure my combat skills are perfected.

I keep my eyes peeled in search of an axe, as I've always done my best combat with a blade. I quickly realize that my only hope is to find some form of a blade in the arena.

The arena! I soon realize that my chances of survival are also dependent upon the type of arena I'm thrust into, and since the arena changes each year, one can never be totally sure. And looks can be deceiving...

The year my father won the Games was the second Quarter Quell, and the arena that year seemed like the most beautiful place on earth, but there was a pang of darkness hidden within its depths.

I drag myself over to the combat station, pick up an axe, and begin my training. (Which is a lot harder than it looks)

The Capitol weapons are much heavier than those I usually practice with at home, so it takes me a few moments to get used to them.

Once I've steadied my grip on the axe's firm handle, I take a delicate, yet forceful swing, expertly slicing into a sandbag that's been suspended about three feet above the floor of the gymnasium.

I smirked lightly as all eyes fell upon me.  They were no doubt all amazed by my level of skill.

The murmurs of awestruck tributes and trainers alike echoed throughout the silent room.

This had no doubt commanded Peeta's attention, as he chose to join me at the combat station.

"Damn, Girl on Fire. You're definitely skilled with an axe. I've never seen anything like it," he says. "The other tributes would be stupid to mess with someone like you."

I smirked lightly, soaking in his praise. "Thank you."

I spend my time over the next three days perfecting my combat and knot tying skills, as the bloodbath at the cornucopia will be my first chance to prove myself in the arena.

My father tries to help me work out my strategy for the Games, but I ignore his advice. I know what it will take to win the Hunger Games, to get back to my precious Cinna. But I'd fight like hell to win, that much I knew for sure.

Throughout the course of training, I keep one thought in the back of my mind. It's my only source of hope.

Dying is easy, Electra. Living is harder.