lethal
010 ─── so it begins .
" you will never be the same "
rowan's view
ℑ couldn't hear what Haymitch was saying. And I couldn't tell whether I couldn't hear because I was in shock or I couldn't hear because I was blocking him out.
The Games were about to begin.
I could feel it in my bones, like a terrifying tremor that resonated through me every few seconds, making my hands shake, reminding me where I was going.
What would the Arena be this year? A scorching desert? A freezing glacier? I didn't know. It was the not knowing that scared me. I was prepared in every way possible except for this; this was the one thing I couldn't prepare for. It was the way that the Gamemakers fucked with our heads, making our minds go in constant loops. What was the Arena going to be? What terrifying muttations were they going to send after us this year for their own entertainment? What horrors were held in store for us?
Were we going to survive?
All those questions reverberated around my head, making Haymitch's words jumped and hazy. I could barely focus on the elevator doors ahead of me, the grey metal turning into a blur with my unfocused eyes.
The elevator that was taking me to the roof of the Tribute center, where a hovercraft awaited me and all the other Tributes. A hovercraft that would take me to the Arena.
It was only when the elevator dinged, a loud and sharp noise, that I jumped out of my skin, Haymitch's phrase suddenly piecing itself back together in my head.
"They'll put all kinds of stuff right in front, right in the mouth of the-"
"Cornucopia," I blurted out, turning to Haymitch with wide eyes. Haymitch's eyes met mine, his cool blue orbs startlingly relaxed. He had license to be relaxed, I supposed. He wasn't going into the Games.
Haymitch didn't look surprised that I had known what he was going to say. In fact, he looked as if he had expected it. His lips pressed into a thin line, and I could see him suppress his pity. He knew me, and he knew that I didn't want pity. Not right now.
Instead, Haymitch let out an amused sigh. "I don't know why I even try," Haymitch gave me a wry smile, the easy interaction making me reciprocate the gesture.
"Okay, how 'bout I pretend I don't know more than you for five minutes," I said with a light smirk. It was distracted; the interaction. It was normal, or at least as normal as a conversation with Haymitch Abernathy could get.
"There'll be knives. Don't go for them." Haymitch didn't even hesitate to start telling me what to do. "Don't get pulled into the Bloodbath. You turn, run, find high ground, look for water. Water is your new best friend. Oh, and don't step off of that pedestal early, they'll blow you sky high."
I knew all of this already, but it didn't help to be reminded.
"I won't," was all I said, throwing Haymitch a small, weak smile. That small, weak smile disappeared, however, when the elevator doors swished open.
My head snapped forwards, my eyes widened as I took in the giant pad on the top of the roof, and in the middle of it all was a giant hovercraft. It was one of the most massive things I had ever seen; it was even bigger than the hovercraft that transported Effie to District 12 each year.
District 12. Home. I might never go home again.
I pushed that thought out of my head and stepped forwards, forcing myself to walk out onto the cement roof, the part of the roof that I had never seen before. I made it about five steps before I felt Haymitch's hand fasten around my bicep, stopping me in my tracks.
"Rowan," Haymitch said, his voice no longer aloof and amused. His expression was serious, his eyes darkened as they connected with mine. "You can do this," Haymitch continued, placing his hands on my shoulders.
I glanced back at the hovercraft nervously. "Thanks," I said simply, my voice hoarse. Haymitch just sent me a small smile, supportive.
Haymitch's hand on my back sent me off towards the hovercraft, my foot moving one after the other towards the ship. Towards the Arena. Towards my possible death.
𝔛
"Give me your arm."
"Give me your arm."
"Give me your arm."
My gaze, which had formerly been stuck on the metal floor of the hovercraft, snapped up when I heard the voice of a woman sound from directly in front of me. I startled a little when I saw her, as I hadn't looked up since I had taken my seat.
The woman had dark brown hair that she had tied back as far as it could go, stretching the skin of her face across her hairline. The bottom half of her face was covered with a mask that was the same colour as the uniform she was wearing. Her thick, brown eyebrows her furrowed over her dark, bottomless eyes that seemed to pierce my soul. And in her hands, nothing but a large needle that looked like it was built for an elephant.
"Give me your arm," the woman repeated, irritation leaking into tone and her eyes narrowing. She opened and closed her fist again, her glove crinkling.
I gave her a doubtful look, eyeing the needle before holding out my arm, placing it in hers. I hated needles, but in that split second, I decided that it was probably better to give up the fight before it even started.
She grasped my arm a little tighter than she needed to, most likely because of how long it took for me to give it to her. "What's that for?" I asked right before she stuck the needle in my forearm, making me flinch.
"It's your tracker," the woman said shortly, pressing down the syringe. I bit my lip as I saw something that glowed a bright white go from the needle to my arm, giving me the sudden urge to throw up.
Her explanation was short, and she didn't elaborate. And I didn't get a chance to ask, because she moved to the next Tribute.
I kept staring at my arm, where the glow had now receded. My stomach churned a little, and I could feel myself getting lightheaded at the prickling feeling in my arm, so I forced myself to look away.
To distract myself, I shifted in my seat, trying to move the seat belt off of my chest as I glanced around. My eyes moved over a few Tributes, searching before my eyes found Rue, the little girl from District 11. She was glancing at her arm in pain, wincing every time she shifted it. I felt sympathy pang in my stomach before my gaze moved again.
My eyebrows raised a little when my eyes landed on the red-headed Blye from District 5, whose bright blue eyes were stuck on me. As soon as my eyes met hers, she looked away, starting to fiddle with her hands nervously. I pursed my lips a little before looking away.
My eyes met Peeta's as soon as I looked away from Blye, his warm brown eyes already watching me. As soon as he saw that I was looking back, his lips spread into a small smile, which I returned best I could.
His eyes were brown, just like Prim's. Prim, my little sister, who I might never see again.
I had to look away.
Instead my eyes landed on Cato, whose gaze was wandering around curiously as if searching for someone. His eyes scanned the hovercraft, the myriad orbs of blue looking for something, or someone. I glanced to my right, where Clove was seated, as that was most likely who he was looking for, before looking back to Cato, only to jerk in shock when I saw his eyes pinned on me. To my surprise, Cato's tense muscles relaxed when he saw me, as if I was the one he was looking for. He didn't dare offer me a smile in front of his fellow Careers, but I saw the corners of his mouth turn upwards slightly, almost imperceptibly, as he laid back in his seat.
My eyes were ripped from his when the hovercraft jolted, creaked, and lifted into the air, giving me an odd, weightless feeling that I had never felt before. My gaze wandered up, and my hands grasped my armrests, my knuckles turning white.
The light coming from the windows on the side of the hovercraft faded out, replaced with white lights, illuminating the hovercraft. A metal wall crashed down in the middle, separating the two halves of the hovercraft; separating me from Peeta.
As we lifted off and started flying, I turned my head to the right, seeing that Cato's elbows were resting on his thighs, showing off the contours of his muscles as he looked around. He was the only one not sitting upright; the only one who wasn't tense. Including me.
The Games were about to start.
𝔛
The Peacekeepers opened a door for me, practically pushing me in, and I looked around at the metal walls holding me in. And the giant tube in the middle of the room; the tube that would undoubtedly send me into the Arena.
As soon as the door closed behind me, my eyes landed on Cinna, who immediately moved forwards and enveloped me in a hug. I let out a sigh; the hug was comforting, even though it wasn't going to do me much good.
As soon as he let go of me, Cinna moved me forwards at arm's length and resting his hands on my shoulders, smiling at me comfortingly. "Here," he said before turning around, grabbing a thick rain jacket and offering it to me.
I grabbed it, moving it around and pulling it on. I turned around, and as soon as I did, Cinna grabbed the lapels of the rain jacket, straightening it before undoing a button on my left side, revealing the fire pin that I bought for Prim. The pin that Prim gave to me when we said goodbye.
I looked down at it in shock, smiling warmly before looking back up to Cinna. "Thank you," I whispered, raising my hand to caress the cool metal.
"Thirty seconds," a robotic voice sounded through the chamber, grinding into my head, making me flinch.
"I'm not allowed to bet. But if I could I'd bet on you," Cinna said, smiling again warmly. Somehow, the smile didn't chance the terrified feeling budding in my gut.
I hugged Cinna one more time, one last time, before the voice announced twenty seconds, and I let go of my stylist, heading over to the tube. I hesitantly stepped in, my breath shaking furiously.
Katniss.
As soon as I stepped in, the door to the tube slid closed. I turned back to Cinna, watching him calmly, forcing my expression to stay passive. He nodded supportively; I nodded back.
Prim.
The floor of the tube started lifting me up, rising, rising, until I could no longer see the launch room but simply cement walls all around me, containing me. And as soon as the cement walls faded away, I was blinded by light.
Gale.
The cool, fresh air hit my skin before I opened my eyes hesitantly, my gaze wandering around. I had to suppress a grin when I saw the Arena; it was a forest. The same as the forest in 12; this was my Arena. My element.
My mother.
All of the Tributes were on their own pedestals, the twenty-four of us forming a circle around the large, misshapen figure known as the Cornucopia. My eyes landed on the weapons laying in the hollowed out structure, all laid out temptingly. The piles of weapons and food were exactly what I needed to survive in these Games. In the back of my mind, I also noticed backpacks laid out around the field; I needed one of those.
The glowing letters above the Cornucopia ticked down, like the clock ticking down on my life. Fifty. Forty-nine. Forty-eight seconds.
I then glanced around the Tributes frantically, searching desperately for anyone. I let out a brief sigh of relief when my eyes landed on Peeta across the field, but I frowned a little when he glanced at the Cornucopia before looking back towards me, shaking his head. He must've known what I was thinking; he was telling me not to go for it.
And then my eyes looked past Peeta to Cato, whose blue eyes were focused on me same as Peeta's brown. To my surprise, he repeated the same action as Peeta, shaking his head, telling me to not go for the weapons - the weapons that could save my life.
I didn't know how many seconds had gone by, so I ripped my eyes away from Cato and looked back towards what I wanted from the Cornucopia. I let out a breath as I took in a beautiful set of throwing knives, glinting in the sun, and a backpack a few feet away from it, undoubtedly filled with goods that would keep me alive.
Knives, backpack. Knives, backpack.
Twenty seconds.
I glanced up to the clear, blue sky, knowing that someone could see me. Knowing that there were a million cameras watching me, and knowing he would see, I whispered, "I'm sorry, Haymitch."
Ten seconds.
I looked back to the Cornucopia, to the orange and black backpack and the perfect set of silver knives.
Five seconds.
I let out a shaky breath, the silence resonating in my ears. I could've sworn that no one was breathing.
And they began.
xxx
a u t h o r ' s n o t e:
Sorry, this chapter is really short, the next one will be longer. I'll update as soon as possible. Comment thoughts on what you think Rowan should do!