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the screen cuts to the general advertisements played throughout the day. new perfumes, fashion lines, we even see one of tassian's designs pop up.
though when we have seen tassian's designs crop up before, we would be hollering in delight. pouring champagne, clapping him on the back.
not even a shift in a sofa cushion occurs. delicate quietness, not wanting to disturb the collective dread.
why is caesar needing to check my score?
either they really did cut down my score based on my axe being stuck in the floor, though i don't expect that.
this has never once happened in the past.
caesar's smile shows up once more, shaking his orange head in such a fashion, it's impossible to assume what went on while all was dark.
i clench my hands into tiny fists, moving backwards in between the cushions of the couch.
i am not sure what to expect.
"eve flanagan." caesar announces, shuffling his cards in his hands. "from district four." he adds. "granddaughter of mags flanagan." he adds again.
my leg bounces, growing impatient. i hope my grandma is watching this from her room.
what i expect the least happens next.
no one in the room expects me to break a hunger games record twice in the space of five minutes.
so when two huge letters show on the screen, only a scoff from aria is heard.
"twelve!" caesar repeats the numbers that show.
i stand up as if it is an instinct, rushing out of the apartment.
i always felt pity for those with high scores in the past. the perfect target for all other tributes.
so when i'm the first in history to ever score a twelve, where will that put me?
what will the other mentors advise to their team?
and why did i ever deserve a twelve?
there's no way i could've scored that, not in the ten minutes given. perhaps even an eleven would be a push, after noting how harsh the gamemakers had been on their scoring to the other tributes.
i'm on the roof for a couple of hours, regretting ever rising to james' challenge.
i watch as footage from the tribute's parade appears on huge screens that are strung high on massive buildings. footage from district four's reaping.
theyre plastering me everywhere.
it's as if they know my plan.
stomas' glare, full of an emotion i now could not begin to place. does it mean more than i think?
