Birthday Quell

6

~training~

I stand in the corner of the training room. My green eyes rapidly scanning the room, as a knife flies hitting a target right in the chest. Two other tributes of the same district fighting and blocking. Not literally fighting eachother, but practicing. They were all so much older than me.. all in their high teens and older. I was fiddling my fingers in the corner just watching. A boy from district two, whipped a knife, the blade impaling a target in a matter of a second piercing right in the neck.
I slowly raise my hands to my neck, looking in shock.
Tyson was no where to be seen.
All these tributes around me, the sound of knives and swords clanging and tearing through targets. Grunts and annoyed groans coming from the  training tributes.

We were all wearing a black shirt with a red and silver stripe on the shoulders.
A male tribute passes me a snicker passing across his face, deadly brown eyes piercing mine. I look away from his gaze, biting my bottom lip. Just as I look away, the direction I turned into, I saw Marcus  viciously and mercilessly stabbing a target, throwing knives at it getting the perfect killing hit.
My green eyes widen in fear.
He was about to throw a knife, but noticed me. He smiled evily, raising the knife acting like he was growing to throw it. The blade glistening in the light as it sparked in my eyes. He lunges his hand forward, making me sprint to the side, trembling.
He chuckles turning back to his training, slamming a knife right into the targets head then yanking it right back out.
"Good luck. Youre going to need it." Atalia whispered in my ear, making goosebumps appear on my skin before she walked off, shoving me in the process.
Where was Tyson...
I shakily take baby steps around the taining area, eyeing each tribute and their swift movements. Many of them were former victors, some werent.
"Tyson?" I ask, looking around the training area. There was no response or sighting of him. The games havent even started and I was already afraid of losing Tyson, like a lost little kid scared in a grocery store unable to find their mum. That's how I was right now.
"TYSON!" I call out, my hands cupped around my mouth to project my little voice louder. I get an echo of my own voice back, along with the groans and clanging of weapons.
Where could he have gone? He clearly wasnt in this room.
I start to panic and run between tributes, shoving my way through them, some shoving me back in return with no mercy or care.
"TYSON!" I yell, scanning around the training room in a quick motion.
"Move pipsqueak." A tall male tribute says deeply, shoving me roughly so I stumble backwards and land on my butt on the hard floor knocking the air out of my system. These people were so rude and careless, Tyson on the other hand was really sweet and kind. Not like the others.
I quickly crawl under tributes' legs and swirving around them, dodging their fists as they punch bags or pretend to punch eachother. Also dodging other body parts that are swinging and attacking.
Right now, I was out of it and didnt know where I was going. Just running like a chicken without a head. Unaware where I was going, just running in fear. Hoping to find Tyson.
Before I knew it, I ran infront of a tribute that was in midthrow of a knife, me being in between the tribute and the target.