We Could Make It

5. Memories.

My sleep is filled with nightmares. The face of the redheaded avox girl, gory images from past Hunger Games flashing by, my mother here but unresponsive, Prim scared out of her mind, my father's face before the mine explosion. All of those images are gone within a second and replaced with something else.

I look around and see I'm in the woods. For a moment, I wonder if all of that was just a dream. I don't have time to breathe a sigh of relief before Gale materializes a few feet in front of me. I smile for a second, I wanna walk towards him, but I can't. My feet won't move. My smile leaves my face when his eyes meet mine. He's looking back at me with cold eyes. Just as the spear pierces his body, I bolt up, screaming his name. I'm awake.

It's still early; the sun isn't up yet. My head hurts, and I must've bitten my cheek in my sleep, as I still have the taste of blood in my mouth.

I drag myself out of bed and into the shower. That dream invades my thoughts again. What troubles me the most about that dreadful dream is that something like that could happen to Gale very soon. And that terrifies me. I shake those thoughts from my head and focus on getting ready.

When I'm dried and moisturized, I find out the outfit that has been left out for me: tight black pants, a long-sleeved burgundy tunic, and leather shoes. I put my hair in a braid down my back. At least I kinda look like myself for once.

No one has come to get me for breakfast, but I'm starving, so I head down to the dining room anyway, hoping there is food. I'm not disappointed. The table is empty, but there's a long board off to the side of the room with at least twenty dishes laid out. A young avox boy stands at attention by it. I ask if I can serve myself, and he nods. I hate having them do things for me. It makes me feel like one of the Capitol people. So unless I have to, I try my best not to ask anything of them. I load my plate full. As I gorge myself, I watch the sunrise over the Capitol. There's a haunted and sinister air that hangs over this place. But, man. You can't deny that view.

After getting a second plate of food and a cup of hot chocolate, my mind wanders to thoughts of my mother and Prim and Gale's family. They must be up by now. Just two mornings ago, we were home. Can that be true? Just two. What did they think about the fiery debut last night? Did it give them faith, or simply add to their terror when they saw twenty-four tributes gathered together, knowing only one will make it out? Do they have hope I'll make it home? If they do, it's false hope.

My thoughts are interrupted by Haymitch and Gale entering the room. I don't understand why Gale and I have to wear the same outfits. We're supposed to be rivals, yet they portray us as a team. We are a team, but in their eyes, we're just a couple of kids who are supposed to kill each other.

Gale comes and joins me at the table, two cups of hot chocolate in his hands. He hands one to me as my cup is now empty. I smile gratefully.

I'm anxious about training. There will be three days in which we all practice together. On the last day, we all get a chance to perform privately in front of the Gamemakers. The thought of seeing all of the other tributes face-to-face makes me nauseous. I stare into my cup, my stomach churning. I'm scared if I drink any now, I'll lose my breakfast.

When Haymitch finishes several plates of stew, he pushes his plate away with a satisfied sigh. He takes his flask from his pocket, takes a long swig of it, and leans his elbows forward onto the table. "So, let's get down to business, shall we? Training. First of all, if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now."

Gale and I glanced at each other with perplexed expressions on our faces. "Why would you coach us separately?" I ask.

"Say if you had a hidden ability you might not want each other to know about," he replies.