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...
But I can't get out of this mess now. All it took was two seconds to promice to tell them, and now I can't back out. I take a deep breath, collecting myself, and speak.
"Surprisingly or not, archery isn't my best talent," I say to Darrien, who's eyebrows raise in wonder. "I'm amazingly good at throwing knives, most likely because I used to throw knives at home to catch the flies around our house." By now, Crystal, Rhett, Carly, and people from home will know this is a decoy. First of all, our house was bug free, because my mom was terribly frightened by any type of bug and used different chemicals to rid our house of bugs. Also, my mother would have never allowed knives being thrown anywhere near her house.
"Really?" questions Darrien. "You killed flies by throwing knives?"
"Oh, yes," I say. "All the time. Well, anyways, I warmed up for about 15 minutes, with the Gamemakers' still playing their stupid game. And I got... frustrated." One of the Gamemakers actually shuckle, until the new Jasper punches him in the arm and he whimpers. I look at the controls booth and see a burly man take a hammer after a box crammed with wires. He smashes it again and again until it explodes into sparks, and suddenly, I'm not on stage. I'm back in Private Training, watching as sparks fly everywhere and see a woman's hair be singed off and she falls to the ground. I see an elderly man get hit in the head by a chunk of metal, and collapse off the perch and plummet 30 feet below to his death. And worst of all, Jasper looking me in the eye as he falls off the edge....
I blink until I'm back on stage, looking into Darrien's eyes. I hsake my head the slightest bit and continue.
"I decided to sneak into the Gamemakers' perch," I flounder out.
"Why?" begs Darrien. I shake my head.
"I really don't know," I say. By now, every head is turned my way, and a hush has fallen over Panem, hanging onto my every word. "But I created a grappling hook and scaled the wall. When I got up there, I found a safe. There was a thick lock, one that not even I could have broken." Even Darrien is silent. Usually, he would make a joke such as 'I bet I good have, with these puppies.' while kissing his tiny muscles, but he is too intent on my story.
"Finally, I broke it using a sword I took from a statue. And inside, well, I'm sure that this will surprise every citizen of Panem." It remains silent for a long time, but Darrien can't stand it any longer.
'What?" he whispers out.
"Posters," I say, making Darrien's face grow confused. "Of Crystal and I, the ones that adorn the Capitol. It was stacked with them, and without thinking, I threw the safe over the edge and jumped. I landed and hung up the posters on every square inch of the Training Hall. Everything had our faces on it." I falter now, allowing them to get a mental picture. "That's when the Gamemakers came out."
I can't hear anything now, because every single person in Panem, even the new Gamemakers and the operators, are listening to my every word.
"I was already sweating from fear of what I did, terrified of what the Gamemakers might do. And when they walked out, I whipped around and shot an arrow past their heads, through the door, and hit their game. It exploded, went everywhere. I remember all these gruesome things..." I trail off, living back in my Private Training, and speak. I forget where I am, who I am, and only speak what I see.
"Colors went everywhere. Sparks of red, orange, white, and yellow flew around like jumping beans. There was a woman their, standing near the machine, who's hair got burned to hashes, and she fell to the ground, on fire, screaming. There was an old man who got hit by a chunk of metal and bled and bled, bled until he had no more blood and collapsed off the perch. Their was another man, very young, who tripped and fell onto the system, and when he came up, his face was dripping with blood and melted skin. His face was like a droopy bowl of red and tan mush, his melted skin dripping onto the floor as he collapsed ontop of the sword and got stabbed." I stop there, shivering as I remember the poor man, the men, the women, the innocent people I killed.
"The sparks flew onto the posters, and the Training Hall went ablaze. I struggled for air, getting burned, catching on fire, watching people die when I saw the shower. I found a bow and arrow, aimed, shot, and turned it on. I got under the water, grateful, when the roof collapsed. Brick after brick hit me, soaking me in blood, when I got caught in a complicated net left by another tribute," I look at Crash, obviously who made the net, gleaming as he realizes he was the cause for my suffering.
"I gagged up blood, and watched as Jasper fell off the edge, looking into my eyes, and thought, I killed you. Finally, I fell out of the net, gasping for air, and the last thing I saw was a heavy brick, falling for my face, but I couldn't get up. My last thought was that I killed the Gamemakers. Those people up there," I say, pointing to the new Gamemakers, "are not the real Gamemakers. Only people who look like them." And that concludes my story. I sit back, afraid for what I just did. The Gamemakers have a look of hate on their faces, but I see something else on Jasper's face. Not hate, not anger, something else... admiration. My mind flashes to the real Jasper's face in the fire, with the same look. Without a doubt, I know it's admiration. But the question is, why?
Everybody has the same expression: shock. Jaw dropping, eye popping shock. And now is my chance to rebel. But I'm interrupted.
DING! DING!
My time is up. I'm not finished, though, and I don't plan on leaving. Neither does Darrien, who signals to the booth for two more minutes. They reluctantly nod, and I know Darrien is in for a heap of trouble.
"I have a question," he begs. "Why were you afraid for putting the posters?"
This rubs me the wrong way. The real reason is because I know it meant Crystal's death. It meant our death, when I meant for the opposite. Because the Gamemakers would hate me. But what bugs me is Jasper's look of admiration, the old and new Jasper. Why? But now, and Rhett senses it too, is my time to rebel. I shoot out of my chair and shout to Darrien.
"Why was I scared?!" I shout. I point to Crystal. "I was scared for HER life!! Do you know why they gave me a 12 and her a 1?! Because they knew that in order for me to be punished, I would have to go home without her. I love her more than ANYTHING in the world! And then now, I'm doing anything to let my littlse siter live!" I shout into a camera, holding Crystal's hand.
"THIS IS NOT FAIR!" I shout, followed by clapping. "How can someone do this, put siblings in a fight to the death? VERONICA KNOWS WHAT I MEAN! The Capitol is too cruel! And I won't stand for it! THAT'S WHY I COVERED THE TRAINING HALL IN POSTERS, TO LET US LIVE!!!! LET US LIVE!!!!!" I shout, holding our hands above our head. And on TV, it's absolutely heartbreaking. Dressed in the Hash, holding hands, it brings tears to my eyes. And that's why I storm off the stage, without being dismissed, holding Crystal's hands. We walk defiantly, leaving Darrien in total bewilderment. And when I see the Gamemakers', Jasper smiles at me. Smiles. And I smile back.
We take our seats, cameras angled on us, and we smile and wave. Smile and wave. The crowd is in chaos, chanting out "LET THEM LIVE!" We can both live.
Suddenly, it's training all over again. Peacekeepers swarm in, keeping the mob under control. White obscures my vision, and they push us around, trying to get everyone under control. Now that the camera can't see us, Crystal pulls out a sheet of paper from her boot. The sponsor list.
She unwraps it, and I see that within five minutes, her sponsors have increased from 8 to 102. That's $9, 823. Unbelievable. We can both live.
Suddenly, a woman is yanked from her three children by a Peacekeeper. The woman is holding a poster of us, chanting to let us live. She throws the poster down and fights for her children, but she can't reach them. The kids scream for their mother, with her short pink hair and green dress. She screams for them, and they scream back, when a Peacekeeper hits her in the head with a bat. It comes again and again, filling the floor with blood.
I've seen many awful things in my life. I've seen kids fall out of trees in the orchards and die, their family weeping for months. I've seen people be eaten by bears in the woods, their blood soiling the grass. But nothing can compare to this horror, this madness, this mother be beaten in front of her bawling children.
The mother gets thrown to the ground, and the last thing she does is reach for her children and say "I love you." before the bullet enters her head, and sponsor 45 vanishes from the list, as well as her donation of $1,000.
Authots Note: Fan, Vote, Comment, Share with friends! How was it? Tell me if it was good! Deadline: Monday, May 14. Happy Mother's Day!