The sounds of my sprinting feet echo in the Training Room as I dart out the door. There is an Avox with dirty blonde hair that stands in front of the elevator door as if he were guarding it. I wonder if he had been instructed to stop me from entering. I wish he would put his hands on me, so I would have a reason to take my anger out on someone. My mind races as I pass the Avox that does not move, enter the elevator, and try to process what had just happened. I cannot manage to hold back the tears that begin to roll off my cheek as I press the button for the second floor. There is no way that my training score will be anywhere near where it should be. I am going to be the joke of many years to come as the lowest rated Career tribute in the history of the Hunger Games. My father is going to be beyond disappointed in me, Brutus will give up on his hopes of having mentored another victor, and Malo will not even want to be associated with me anymore.
I contemplate lying and telling everyone that I downplayed my strengths to the Gamemakers with hopes of receiving a low score so that the other tributes would underestimate me. The elevator makes a dinging sound before the doors spread apart revealing Brutus, Vivian, Katrina, and Malo awaiting me. The tears on my cheek are visible and this causes them to halt whatever conversation they were having. I bet they thought I was going to walk in ecstatic to share how well I preformed, probably like Malo did. I imagine him running in only fifteen minutes earlier as everyone celebrated him. The thought causes my stomach to turn so I make it go away. Katrina rushes over to me first, "My dear, what happened?" I brush her to the side and walk down the hallway and into my room. I can hear her say, "How rude," in her dumb accent as I slam the door behind me.
I do not want to be here anymore. I hate the Capitol. Why can't we just get this over with and they kill me right now? President Snow can shoot me just like he did the Peacekeeper that my mother paid off. I thought she was crazy, but now I wish her plan would have worked. What is the point of humiliating me even more by sending me into the arena where I will just die? The girl from District Two who got the low training score. That is my brand now, that is what I have to work with. How can I twist this to my advantage? I can't. Even if I wanted to go with the story that I did it intentionally, Malo would not believe it, he just saw me crying and clearly upset. He will know I did horrible and that that is the real reason that my score sucks. There will not be a single person in the Capitol that will sponsor the girl tribute that has the lowest score out of all the other Careers. I allow myself to throw a pity party, crying it out, and ignoring the knocks on my door.
I have been locked away in my own solitude for hours, allowing dark thoughts to visit in my moments of sorrow. I take a deep breath before standing up and walking over to the mirror that stands above my dresser. The excessive crying has made my eyes puffy which compliments the bags that drape from under them. I am exhausted and want nothing more than to sit alone for the rest of the day, but I do not want to miss the televised reading of the training scores. Each year the Gamemakers conduct a score ranging from one to twelve for each tribute, one being absolutely horrible, and twelve being exceptionally well. Since the viewers do not see any of the training, this is supposed to give them an idea of how well each tribute is suited for the Games. I can remember learning in school that the training scores are never truly accurate in who will win the game, and that they should be taken with a grain of salt. You should have the same energy and focus going into a battle against someone with a score of ten, the same you would against someone with a score of four.
I have always felt that training scores were a double-edged sword. Yes, you are more likely to get sponsors if you have an impressive one, but ultimately it just makes you a target once the Games start. I know without a doubt whoever outside of the Careers has the highest score will be at the top of the hit list going into the arena. That will be the person targeted during the bloodbath, and if they somehow survive that, they will be hunted day by day until they are caught and killed. It is also bad for the careers as well, because when a brave tribute takes a shot, it will probably be at whoever was deemed the biggest threat before entering the arena.
After pacing around for another thirty minutes I finally find the guts to leave my bedroom. As soon as I open the door the pleasant smell of dinner hits me like a wall. I have no desire to eat but I quickly decide that I must in order to get the nutrients that I will need in the arena. The walk of shame from my room to the dinner table as everyone watches me is quite unbearable. I am surprised to see that Chrisana and Velour are here since I have not seen them since the Tribute Parade. In fact, this is the first time Malo and I's entire team has been together since that night. Chrisana takes no time before getting up and wrapping her arms around me in a hug. I feel as if it would be rude to ignore her, so I return the gesture and pat her on the back.
"My star," Chrisana says as she rubs my cheek with the back of her hand.
I force a smile and then we both walk over to the table and take our seats. There is a hodgepodge of different types of meat laying on a platter in the center of the table. On each side of the bowl there are trays loaded with warm vegetables that send clouds of steam into the air. I fill my plate with a mixture of the vegetables and then some roasted ham that causes my mouth to water. I take my first bite and get lost in chewing it, not realizing that everyone is staring at me.
"Well, are you going to fill us in?" Vivian says with curiosity before Katrina raises up her hand that calls for attention.
"No, first I deserve an apology," she declares in her dramatic Capitol accent that causes me to fight an eyeroll. I had totally forgotten that I walked past her, avoiding her earlier. I cannot believe that has been at the top of her concern since it happened, and I envy her trivial problems.
"I'm sorry, Katrina," I say.
"Thank you," she huffs back at me, clearly still dealing with it.
"Anyways, back to business..." states Vivian. The annoyance in her voice seems to be directed at Katrina, but maybe I am wrong. It would not surprise me if Vivian thought I was completely childish for running off and hiding earlier. She takes these games extremely serious and so do I, but she is traditional. She wants everything to fall in place and I am learning as of recent that I simply do not.
"Yeah, I didn't do too good," I reply, looking over at Malo's face which is flushed in concern.
"How bad?" Brutus asks before swallowing another spoonful of vegetables.
"I didn't do horrible with the axe, and I did really good with the knives. I was trying to finish strong like you said, so I ran at one of the mannequins and pounced on it. Everything was fine until I started stabbing it and that's when I had some sort of hallucination- or flashback, or something, of the girl from back home,' I tell the group as faces of confusion appear.
"The one that you..." Brutus says in an unsure tone, and that is when I realize that nobody understands what we are referring to. I know that Vivian must know because she is a mentor, unless Brutus kept it a secret from her. I always thought Malo knew as well and that we just did not speak about it. I also assumed that Katrina and the stylists would have found out because they are a part of the District Two team and dig for drama at any chance they get. I guess not though, because judging by their faces they have absolutely no idea what we are talking about it.
"Yeah, the one that I killed," I say as Katrina lets out a gasp full of theatrics.
"You killed!" Katrina raises her voice in shock.
"It was self-defense, don't get your feathers in a bind," Brutus snaps.
Katrina then pats down her dress that is covered in a vibrant peacock print. I look over at Malo who has not said a single word since I had walked out of my room. I would do anything to get in his head and see what he is thinking right now. I wonder if this makes him think of me differently. I mean, if I had found out that he murdered someone before the Games began it would strike me as extremely cutthroat. Does that boost my threat level in his mind? I wonder if he thinks that I am less trustworthy now, then again what if he never thought I was trustworthy? If that is the case, then he will definitely turn on me in the arena. I wait for him to say something, but he remains silent.
"What do you think caused it?" Brutus asks with a serious look on his face.
"I-I have no idea, I wasn't even thinking about her at all," I stutter.
"So, you just ran out?" Velour asks, the tattoos on his face hiding whatever emotion he is feeling in the moment.
"Yeah, it was bad," I say, feeling as if I had just let everyone down.
Brutus dismisses himself without saying a word and Vivian follows him shortly after. Katrina sighs and then walks over to hug me, and I accept it this time around.
"You'll just have to do good in the interviews, dear," she says before placing a kiss onto my forehead.
Everyone left at the talks sits silence, not touching the remainder of our food, not even looking at each other. I wish Malo would give me some sort of sign of how he is feeling because now I am assuming the worst. I know we are ultimately competitors that are fighting for the same goal, but I really enjoyed his company during the training process. We bonded a lot, and I would almost consider him a friend. It is ridiculous to view anyone as a friend before being pinned against each other in the arena, I think to myself, but I cannot help how I feel.
Horn of Plenty, Panem's National Anthem, begins to blare through the holographic television that has been programed to turn on automatically for updates regarding the Games. The Capitol has the power to play whatever they would like, whenever they please. Updates or announcements regarding The Hunger Games will be broadcasted throughout Panem and are mandatory viewing. While the anthem continues to play, Brutus and Vivian make their way back to the group and we all crowd around the screen. Caesar Flickerman, the host of The Hunger Games, appears and greets everyone to the highly anticipated reading of this years' training scores. I can feel my heart sink to my stomach where the acids cause it to shrivel up. Seated beside me, Malo looks over, "Good luck." The sound of his voice comforts me and I now believe that I was possibly overthinking his silence at dinner. "Thanks, you too," I say back to him before we both look back at the screen.
The scores are read off in order of district, the male first and then the female directly after. Lux's face appears behind Caesar as he clears his throat and then announces a score of nine. That is not bad at all, typically Careers receive a score anywhere between an eight and ten. Below a training score of eight would be viewed as someone who was not prepared to volunteer. Silica pulls out a ten which does not shock anybody in the room. My body shivers as Caesar's eyes glance at the notecard in his hand and then back into the lens of the camera.
"District Two, Malo Revel," Caesar begins. I turn to see Malo whose forehead has bubbles of sweat forming that the light from above is reflecting off of. It is apparent that he is nervous, so I put my hand on his knee and then look back at the screen.
"With a score of ten," Caesar announces. The whole room cheers for Malo as his face of worry turns to a smile that stretches across his cheeks. He makes a fist and throws it in the air as Vivian shouts for him. I wish I could be happy for him, but I am far too nervous for the reading of my own score. Everyone quiets down as my face begins to rotate around Caesar. The taste of blood fills my mouth as I realize that I have been biting away at the inner parts of my cheek. I ignore the taste and completely focus on Caesar Flickerman.
"District Two's, Carmen Delano... with a score of seven," he says, and my face flushes red.
A seven is completely unacceptable and nobody will be able to convince me otherwise. I feel the urge to run back into my room and bury myself in a mountain of blankets but that would just make me look worse than I already do.
"That's not too bad," Chrisanna says in an unconvincing voice as she leans over and pats my back.
"We can work with this, honey, don't you worry," Katrina announces.
I must not have noticed due to being in my head, but at some point, Malo had put his hand on my back. He rubs me up and down which almost triggers me to start crying but I am able to fight the urge off. Brutus does not even look my way which eats at me. The least that I could have done for him was perform well enough to get a decent training score that he could work with. Instead, he has received nothing in return for assuring me that my mother was out of harm's way. I have let him down after everything that he has done for me. My father will probably be too embarrassed to show up for work tomorrow in District Two with a daughter who received a training score of seven. I feel like an utter failure.
I completely zoned out of reality and missed the readings of the tributes from District Three. Ripley receives a ten, followed by Alanis with a nine, which was to be expected. I was selfishly hoping that one of them did badly as well so that the light would not shine directly on me. But of course, they had been training for this as long as I have and that was not likely to happen. The Careers alliance this year has received three scores of ten, two scores of nine, and then an outlying score of seven. My life feels like some nightmare that I cannot wake up from.
Jaws from District Seven gets a score of eight which stings like salt in my wounds. Some lumberjack from the forests of District Seven has outplaced me. I imagine a scenario in the arena where my allies trade me off for him since he is stronger than me on paper. My head begins to ache as I sit through the rest of the scores that average around five, which is normal for the other districts. The moment of silence that happens after Caesar Flickerman tells Panem goodnight is ghostly. District Two has never scored this low in my time watching the Hunger Games, and everyone here knows that. Chrisanna and Velour leave afterward, claiming that they would love to stay but need to get rested up for tomorrow. What a privilege it is to leave, I would do anything to leave here and be back at home.
Once the stylists are gone, I head to my room without giving an explanation of why as if it isn't obvious. Katrina audibly sighs and I am hoping that she does not try and follow me. After a few minutes of being alone, it is safe to assume that no one will be running after me. The events of today play in my head, and I still find myself trying to make sense of what happened during my individual training session. I enter the shower and as the water washes over me, I allow myself to accept that the odds are not in my favor anymore. I was so naïve as a child thinking that my dreams of being the first person to ever score a twelve could come true.
I take my time and dry off, watching myself in the mirror, standing naked and vulnerable. I feel the need to cry but I do not even deserve that, so I quickly wipe off the excess water on my body and dress for bed. An Avox must have cleaned while I was showering because my room is spotless. The idea of sitting in my thoughts any longer has my body begging for rest so I slide into bed and try to fall asleep. I mourn my life, my family, and what this experience was supposed to be. Eventually, my eyes tire out as I gradually shift into a state of dreaming.
-★-
The alarming feeling of Brutus shaking me awake in the middle of the night has put me on edge. I frantically squeal before he puts his hand over my mouth, muffling any sound that attempts to escape. He hushes me down until I am silent.
"This is the only chance we have to talk alone, so be quiet," he says sternly, removing his hands from my mouth. His body language is more aggressive than usual, almost like he is ready to fight someone. I have never felt afraid of him until this moment. Brutus grabs me by the arm, gripping tightly, then stands up, pulling me up with him.
"I should just give up on you, but I'm not because I refuse to quit. So, you need to listen to everything that I am going to tell you and then do as I say," he spits at me, with anger evident in his tone. He is not happy with me, that is very clear.
"What is happening?" I ask with shakiness in my voice.
"Nothing. I've been up all night and I've come up with a strategy that is your best shot at winning this thing," he says in a harsh whisper that is driven with passion. His approach in this situation reveals to me that his intentions of me surviving is secondary. All he wants is another win under his belt so that he can claim that he trained another tribute to victory. Afterall, this opportunity only comes around once a year and Brutus is not the type to let it slip by. I have quickly discovered that I do not like this side of Brutus that he has revealed, but maybe this is what I need to hear in order to survive my current situation. His greed could very well be my saving grace, so I am all ears.
"Now, promise that you'll do what I say," Brutus mutters at me.
"What is it, I want to know first," I respond, hoping that I am staying quiet enough to keep this conversation confidential. I am worried but also intrigued by whatever Brutus needs to tell me that can not be discussed in front of others. This exchange feels underhanded and rather serious.
"Carmen, promise first. You owe me, remember?" Brutus says back to me with words that cut like a knife. I do owe him, greatly. I hate that I am indebted to him, but I am. He has helped me from the start, given me pointers I was never taught at the AOW that were much needed during training, assured me that my mother was back in District Two, has vowed to do everything he can to keep me alive, and this list goes on. The darkness of the room closes in around me as I find it in myself to trust Brutus. My mother would want me to come back home, so this is for her. I look into his eyes that hungrily wait for me to cave. I take a deep breath, "I promise."
An evil smirk overpowers the anger that was once displayed on Brutus' face. He holds my head in his cold hands, sending shivers over my body. There is an unsettling nature about everything that has conspired tonight. I have no idea what master plan Brutus could have came up with after the announcement of my training score. I now assume that he felt I needed a solid score in order to gain any type of momentum in the games. The fogginess in my brain clears up, awaiting what Brutus has to say. He leans in as his grip around my face gets firmer.
"You have to kill Malo."