Dangerous Affection- The Hunger Games- A Cato Love Story

Chapter 8: Strategy

Chapter 8- Strategy

To say I had a restless night would be an understatement.

My dreams- err, my nightmares, are filled with the red-headed boy, intertwined with the gory images of previous Hunger games, with my brothers scared and Father withdrawn right after Mother's death, their faces then being the image in my mind of them now, knowing I was headed towards my death. I wake up screaming, as a sword slices through my chest, taking me away from ever seeing my family again.

After I wake up screaming for the third time, the morning light can be seen filtering through the window's shades. I push them open, and realize the bad, metallic taste in my mouth is my own blood. I must have bitten into the side of my cheek in the night- a bad habit I thought I had been ride of. My tongue probes the ragged flesh, and I taste more blood. I sigh, thinking about the scar that would be there when it healed. The inside of my mouth is full of them by this point.

I close the shades tightly back, and stumble into the shower. I stay in there much longer than I needed to, letting the scalding hot water run down my body. As I try and shut it off, my hand slips and I'm assaulted with rose smelling foam that I'm forced to scrap off, and still never manage to feel as if it's completely gone. Well, at least I'm awake.

When I'm dried and opening my closet, I find an outfit has been left for me in the front. Tight black pants, a long-sleeved black tunic with green edging with my district number on the back near the top and on the upper left pocket on the front, and a pair of leather boots. I tame my wavy hair in a side braid, my better side losing the debate to pin my bangs back, instead leaving them to drape across my forehead. This is the first time since the reaping that I look like myself. No fancy clothes or hair, no snowy costumes. Just Alexandra Cade, staring in the mirror back at me.

They hadn't given me an exact time to show up for breakfast, so I head down there now, hoping there will be some kind of food awaiting me. I'm not let down- a long table had been laid out with at least thirty dishes. An Avox stands at attention by the food, and I ask if I can serve myself. He nods, and I load my plate down with pancakes, sausages, a handful of grapes, slices of melon, quarters of oranges, and a whole grain roll. I look at my plate, seeing the fruit outnumber the rest, and smile at the thought that even all the way in the Capitol, home still stuck with me. As I sit and watch the sun rise over the Capitol, I break off bits of bread, mindlessly dipping them in the hot chocolate, and liking the way it tasted.

My mind yet again wanders to my brothers and father. They must be up now, eating their breakfast of mush, unless Xavier had managed to catch anything the day before. I wonder if Xavier has taken Trevor into the woods yet. I think about how many nights it has been- just two? Yes, just two mornings ago I was at home, atop the trees. How wrong the house feels, even from this distance. I imagine Xav would wait until my death was certain before he lifted the rule of Trevor not being allowed into the woods. But then, what would be of Marco when they were both out hunting? Xavier would never let Trevor go into the woods alone, yet leaving Marco home by himself was out of the question too. I briefly thought that they might take him with them, but then thought the better of it, for one it was too dangerous, and another, if they wanted a meal that night, Marco wasn't exactly the quietest little boy. I suppose they will have to figure that out on their own.

Ryder, Garrett, and Harry file in, bid me a good morning, and fill their plates. It irritates me that Ryder is wearing the exact same outfit I am, but since all the tributes wear the same thing- only the trimming colors are different- I guess I can't argue.

I find myself slightly nervous about the training. There are three days in which all the tributes practice together. On the last afternoon, we all are to perform in private before the Gamemakers. The thought of meeting the other tributes face-to-face makes me lose my appetite.