The 25th Hunger Games (fanfic)

Chapter 15: The Uprising

A split second. Half a second. Less than half. A split second is all it takes to get yourself into a mess you can't get out of. Maybe less than a split second. You can jump from a cliff in half a second, shoot an arrow at somebody's head in a plit second, or worse, do what I did.

Promice to tell all of Panem what I did in Private Training: murdered the Gamemakers.

They don't know yet. They don't know that the original Gamemakers are dead. Only the new Gamemakers, Rhett, Grace, Jannie,Crystal, and I know. Nobody else. Well, not for long. In just a moment, words will pour out of my mouth that will tell all of Panem that I killed the Gamemakers, I set the Training Hall on fire, I covered the Training Halls in posters, and broke into the Gamemakers' pen. 

And it's the perfect chance to rebel.

That thought dawns on me. What I've just got myself into, it's what I've needed all along. This is the time to show the world that the Capitol can't do whatever they want, that people matter too.

And all I have to do is speak.

Darrien is in total shock, eyes wild and hands hanging below his chair. The Gamemakers' are also in shock, but it doesn't last for long. They pick up a phone, and from the corner of my eye, see a perch across from them where the controls are. Somebody answers the phone, and I see that the Head Gamemaker, 'Jasper Drake', is yelling. The operator in the controls booth flinches, hangs up, and fumbles with controls. He, too, begins yelling, and they begin frantically to turn this off of live TV. But as I look at Rhett, beaming with joy and pride, he sees what I see. He slowly shakes his head and holds up a remote, the one that is used to control what plays on every TV across Panem. It's the head control, and somehow Rhett has stolen it. I see the control operators searching for that very remote, the shiny black one with a pad in the middle, also a TV set. It's quite large, bigger than the 'iPads' Americans used to own. Beside the pad are all sorts of buttons, and I smile. It's risky, but I can do it.

"I'm not sure if anyone else has experienced this," I say, loud and confident, my voice echoing into every citizen of Panem's ears. "But as I walked into the Training Hall, there were no Gamemakers, except for Jasper, who was playing on his phone. Everyone else was in this little closed off area, where they were playing with some new videogame."

"Do you know what game?" asks Darrien, unaware of the danger he's getting the both of us into. I search for a mental picture of the game, not covered in sparks, and I finally find one.

"Galaxic Racing," I proclaim into the microphone attached to my ear. Darrien nods.

"That's a veryy popular game," he nods.

"Well, the rest of the Gamemakers called Jasper into their little area," I say. "And, I'm sure you know, but the Gamemakers rest in a little perch cut out of the wall about 30 feet above us. Anyways, now that I'm alone, I decide to practice shooting arrows, because I can hit a 75 from the 50 yard mark." Darrien whistles with applause.

"Well," he says slowly. "Are you a newbie at archery?" I nod, making him chuckle.

"Beginner's luck," he starts. I shake my head.

"I don't think so. I hit either a bullseye or 75 every time I shot an arrow, no matter where I stood."

"Wow," says Darrien, quietly, wrapping his mind over my skill. "What else are you good at?" Should I tell? I look at the other tributes, their ears craning to know more about me. They'll undoubtedly use this information against me. I look up at the controls booth, where the operators are flipping switches and smashing wires, but nothing seems to happen. One glimpse from the Gamemakers and I know that they'll ensure my death. No, not my death..... Crystal's death. I almost fall out of my chair.This is a mistake. I shouldn't have done this...