The First Annual Hunger Games Contest Book Entries

Training: Day II

I woke up earlier and walked over to Nerias' room. Before I fell asleep last night, I decided that I couldn't be with Atlas anymore. I know he hates me and when I'm close with him, my broken heart aches. It was better to be away from him. For my health and because it is what he wants.

"Nerias.." I whisper. The man was sprawled out on his bed, his head hanging over the edge and he was snoring. Loudly.

"Nerias!" I whisper hiss. He jolts awake and pulls the blanket up on his body some more. He glares at me for a split second but his glare softens into a sleepy stare.

"Darling, what is it? Nightmare or something? If it's Atlas again, I swear.."

"Actually.." I say, rubbing my forearm. Nerias returns back to a glare and shoots out of bed. "That little punk. Has he never been educated on how to treat a lady?!" He says, walking towards the door, wrapping a robe around his body.

I quickly grab his arm and pull him back. "Nerias wait! He didn't do anything! Yet.. It's just.. Nerias, I can't be around him anymore.. It hurts.."

Nerias looks at me and stokes my cheek gently. I look down on sadness and hug myself. "I just can't be around him anymore.. He hates me and I thought he was different.."

Nerias sighs and pats the top of my head. "I'll see what I can do, sweetheart.. Go get ready for breakfast.."

I hug him and nod. Walking out of the room I whisper, "Thanks for everything Nerias.."

He chuckles and nods, looking on his closet for today's outfit. "Go on and get dressed, Cherokee. Don't worry about anything, I got it under control."

I rushed back to my room to get ready. My plan to conquer this day was to get down to the training center early and learn a bit of every skill before coming back to the quarters and practicing with Nerias and possibly Samual, that is if he won't hit me with his stupid cane every time I made a minor mistake.

I got dressed in the training attire and rushed down to the kitchen to grab a banana or apple to eat on my way down to the training center. Instead of taking the elevator, I decided on the stairs in order to warm me up before getting down to heavy training. Which was a good idea in retrospect but I didn't really think of any possible consequences from my decision.

At the bottom of the landing was a multitude of news reporters, journalists, and plain old nosy people. They first were facing the elevators, waiting to bombard the first tribute who rode the elevator down with a zillion of pointless questions.

My mistake was not being quiet enough as I bounded down the stairs. By the time I saw the outlines of the figures, they already heard me racing down the stairs and were turning to me, yelling questions left and right, mostly about Atlas and how my nights in his embrace were.

What the actual fuck? Who tells these people these ridiculous rumors?

I turned my head left and right, feeling smaller and smaller as these strangers got closer and closer, yelling conspiracy theories about my love for Atlas. Camera flashes went off in my face, my eyes adjusting to see a white blindness and little dots all over the place.

Suddenly, I felt a tight grip on my arm as I was being dragged away from the horror of Capitol life. My eyes finally regain normal vision and I saw that who saved me was a peacekeeper. He shoved me into the training center and slammed the door shut after I was "safely" in.

Some tributes were already in here, probably silent escapers, no thanks to my ravenous diversion. Everyone was intently focused on their task at hand. After recollecting my thoughts, I wandered over to one of survival tactic stations; first aid to be exact.