The Divergent Games[In Editing]

The Divergent Games XI: Slam Down

Why do we do this, anyway?

     Why are we sent in luxury, just to slaughter one another? It's cruel. It's a pathetic punishment, given by those who have protruding stomachs and small minds to those who can barely get a scrap of food on their dinner plate and spend most of their days trying to obtain some sort of education. It doesn't make me fear the Summit or the Capitol. It makes me pity them for being so ignorant and it makes me want to strangle them for being so frustratingly stupid.

     I should have slit my throat. There was no way I could recover from that. I wouldn't be standing here today, on this night if I had slit my throat instead of stabbing myself in the abdomen. It aggravates me, the choices I've made. I could've ended it all, but I missed the chance. Last night at dinner I wasn't even allowed a butter knife to cut the meaninglessly elegant food that we were served. No one talked to me. I didn’t talk to them. Eventually, after everyone seemed to just be pushing food around their plates and taking small bites about once every five minutes, I had to excuse myself. It wasn't that I wanted them to go on like nothing happened. I just didn't want to eat with them at all. They all thought that I was completely insane by now, and they should. Maybe I am going crazy, and there's nothing I can do about it.

     I ate in my room that night, and went to bed early. Today we would have no training, no events to go to until tonight. They had to postpone the interviews because of my "training accident".

     I didn't go to breakfast. I knew there was no point. Instead I sat inside my room and did pushups and sit ups until my arms felt like string and my chest started to burn from the inside out. My stomach was still sore and clenched from where I had stabbed myself, but it was healing rather quickly due to Summit medication and the surgery they had given me after the incident. They didn't need to tell me I was on probation. They didn't need to tell me that my act of rebellion was going to cost me my life. I already knew.

     I pressed my ear against the door, listening in as Cameron's stylist team left with a good bye and a notice that they would be back in seven hours for dinner and preparation for the interviews. It was the same with my cosmetologists- they all left except for Dalia. The only ones out there were her, Blake, and Cameron, so I worked up enough mental tolerance to show myself.

     I had just stepped out of the shower, so my hair hung in damp, wavy black strands over my shoulders. I wore a simple black button down, dark slacks and laced up boots. Upon hearing my door open, they all looked up from what they were doing, whether that was picking at the nail polish on their fingers, reading, or eating. I tried not to make contact with anyone, especially Blake. I didn't need one of his long lectures about peace and the crumbling of the corrupted world as we knew it. I didn’t need to hear I had to be less high strung and whatever else he was opinionated about.

     "We missed you dearly at breakfast, darli-" Dalia tried to get out, but I had already shut the apartment door behind me and was into the hallway. If she's Candor, she really shouldn't lie like that.

     I didn't look back, even when I heard the loft door open and close behind me. My pace quickened and I reached the elevator, quickly pressing the button to go to the lobby floor and closing the doors before anyone else could step inside. I leaned back on the glass wall, taking a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the crowd. It was obvious that all the tributes would be in the lobby or their apartments, since they had nothing better to do on a day like this. I wondered if they knew why the interviews were cancelled until this evening. I was sincerely hoping that none of their mentors told them. 

     Surprisingly, no one noticed me. At least, not right away. I walked silently, keeping my head down. My choppy bangs had started to dry, so I was thankful when they hid my eyes. There were about two or three tributes from every faction down here, so it wasn't as crowded as it could've been. The Erudite took up a sofa, reading silently with one another. Except for the red haired girl, who was hanging around with Nicanor and that other kid who was their ally. He hadn't made any real impressions on me, so I disregarded him. Erela was nowhere in sight. Smart move. I would have stayed back in my apartment as well, but that would have meant having to talk to either Blake or Cameron or Dalia at some point. At least here, I didn't have to worry about that.