The Sixty-Fifth Hunger Games

Frank

To say the training area is giant would be a gross understatement. There are sections for pretty much every skill you could possibly think of, including trap setting, camouflaging, and even a place for learning to tie fancy knots. I don't know how much that will be useful, but I head there first anyway. There's someone else already there, a boy with black hair and mint-green eyes. I recognise him from when I was re-watching the reapings. His name is Percy Jackson, from District 4. He must be experienced with that. Maybe I can pick up some tips. I walk over to the station, where he is practicing tying a complicated knot. I pick up a long silvery rope and attempt to mimic him. He chuckles. "You're doing it all wrong." He takes his own rope and demonstrates how to tie the knot. I copy him, and find that it's much easier to tie the knot now that I actually know how.

"Thanks, but why are you helping me?" Percy shrugs.

"Well, there's a good chance we're both going to die, so I might as well help you." I stare at him, mouth wide open in shock.

"But... you're a Career!" Percy frowns, confused.

"What's a Career?"

"It's what most of us call the people in Districts 1, 2, and 4, since the kids from the upper districts usually train for the games." I respond, a bit uncomfortable. Percy frowns.

"Oh."

After Percy teaches me how to tie a few knots, I head over to the archery range. There's a girl standing there and shooting arrows at the target. She's pretty good at it. I move a little closer, and realise that I've seen her before. She's the female tribute from District 3. Annabeth Chase. She has honey-blonde curls and stormy eyes that easily distinguish her from the fairy-tale princess she might've been. Judging by her interview, she's anything but. She grunts and tosses it to the ground.

"Why?" She whirls around.

"Why what?"

"Why did you stop? You were doing pretty good." She scowls.

"Pretty good isn't enough to do anything useful, and there are much better things I could be doing than mastering archery." I frown. Mastering archery is probably one of the best things she could be doing right now. I don't tell her that, for fear of being murdered in my sleep. I don't want to get on her bad side. Instead, I pick up one of the bows and a few arrows, and head over to one of the other targets.

I've seen a bow and arrow used to kill animals. After all, District 10 is in charge of livestock, and it would be too expensive to kill all the animals 'humanely'. It never made sense to me; just because the animal doesn't feel the pain doesn't make it the right thing to do.

I carefully place the arrow on the cord strung between the bow, copying what I've seen others do hundreds of times. I draw the string back with two fingers, and with a twang the arrow is released from the bow and sails forward, striking the edge of the target.

"Pretty good, for your first try." someone says from behind me. I turn around, picking up an arrow. The boy steps back, a little intimidated. He's scrawny, and he has dark hair, twinkling brown eyes and a cheeky smile. "I'm Leo." He steps forward, hand outstretched. I shake it awkwardly.

"Frank."

Leo picks up one of the bows from the basket next to me, and I flinch involuntarily. He doesn't point it at me, though. Instead, he examines it, running his fingers along the gold engravings. "This would be really useful..." he murmurs to himself. He taps it against his leg, as if testing it. I wince. "Nice and supple, there's absolutely nothing weighing it down." Leo attempts to spin it on the tip of his finger, but it just falls to the ground. He shrugs. "It was worth a try!" He turns around, his eyes still light despite the circumstances. I can tell they're hiding something, though. "Well, good luck mastering archery!" I smile halfheartedly.

"Good luck to you too," I respond, but I don't really mean it. Something about that kid weirds me out.

~*~

I toss and turn in my bed, trying to fall asleep. Once I drift off, though, I immediately regret it. Visions of arrows piercing the hearts of frightened cows, slowly merging into the face of President Zeus, cackling at the sight. A girl's face. She looks familiar and her eyes stand out like liquid gold. And then she screams, and I feel sudden pity for this complete stranger. I hear lightning, and a whisper. Thirteen, Frank. Go to thirteen. With a shock, I recognise the voice. It's my mother's. I haven't seen her since she was taken away by a Peacekeeper almost 5 years ago. I have no idea if she's even alive. Probably not. I don't even know why she was arrested.

What does she mean by 'thirteen'? I massage my temple, trying to understand what my dream meant. I shouldn't be reading into it that much. It was just a dream, I tell myself. It had no real meaning. But I still can't help wondering what it might've meant.

Thirteen. The only thing that comes to mind is District 13, but that's practically a legend. Why would Mom want me to go to District 13? The radiation would kill me. Anyway, it's not like Mom really told me to go there. She's dead. And it was just a stupid dream.

I don't fall asleep for the rest of the night, but not because I can't. I don't want to experience another dream like that. As I curl up on my lavish bed, everything starts to sink in. I basically have a couple of weeks left to live, unless the Gamemakers actually want me to win, in which case they'll probably unleash wild animals on all the other tributes. I wouldn't exactly be mourning if Clarisse died, though. She might be one of the only tributes other than the Careers who is genuinely happy she was reaped. Clarisse has always been kind of... trigger-happy, to say the least. Not exactly 'friend material'.

I shift, trying to prevent myself from getting sleepy in any way I can. Eventually, I resort to sitting on the floor to keep myself awake. I stay there, staring at the dull gray sky for hours, until the sun rises, washing everything with a shimmery golden glow.

This chapter was written by yours truly.

-Toodles!