Panem's Secret - The Hunger Games Fan Fiction

Chapter 8: Assessments

The training went on for about 3 days. Throughout those days, I became closer and closer to Rue, and finally on the third day, I agreed to be allies with her. It took some persuading but, I figured that we stand a better chance of one of us becoming a victor if there are two of us. However, even with two, the chances of us surviving are very minimal.

Throughout training, I've learnt how to make traps and use a small sword; the big ones are too heavy. Now, I have to show my skills in front of the gamemakers. They will then rate my score on ability. I've seen someone of the other tributes and I'm definitely not as good as them... but what did I expect?

I sit on a hard metal box, in a room with all 23 tributes. They call us District by District to be individually assessed. I'm from District 12, so I'm last. Time goes by as each tribute leaves the waiting area. Around 2 hours later, i'm the only one left. I still haven't figured out what i'm going to show the gamemakers. I'm pretty good at traps now so I may have to show them that.

"Primrose Everdeen, please report for individual assessment." The voice over says.

I start to feel queasy as I lift myself off the metal box. I know I won't be as good as the others, but i'm hoping my score doesn't turn out to be that low. I don't want to be the first target. I turn a corner and a steel door awaits in my path. At first, I panick because I don't know how i'll open it, but after a few seconds it registers i'm there and opens for me. I breathe a sigh of relief and creep into the assessment room.

The gamemakers are on a platform above me. There are around 12 of them, eating, drinking and laughing.

I cough and they look at me, "Primrose Everdeen." I say quietly.

The head gamemaker, Seneca Crane, makes a gesture with his hand, indicating for me to proceed with my 'talent'. I do what he says and gather some supplies in order to make my traps: A knife, rope, string, twigs. I settle down in a spot and start to make my traps.

A few minutes pass and I manage to make 2. I look up but notice that the gamemakers aren't even paying attention to me. I feel pathetic, and weak. I don't want to say anything to them so I just get up and leave. My feet make no sound against the hard floor. A tear trickles down my face; I quickly wipe it away.

Oh well, it's not like my training score would be very high anyway.