The Hunger Games - PRIM EDITION

Chapter 7 - Last Free Day

I thought he'd have known better.

I thought that Peeta, the boy from the bakery, the boy who always seemed to steer away from the careers, would know better.

He should know better than to go making friends with the people who would probably end up killing me, and him for that matter. I am not angry. I am just at sea with the fact that he thinks it is a good idea to ally up with them. Doesn't he realise?

Doesn't he realise that they are back-stabbing idiots? Every year the careers turn on each other. Every year they end up killing one another, just so that they can go home, and show pride to their district.

I push it from my mind. It's his stupid choice I think to myself, as I throw knives into the centre of the target.

Today, I take Hazel's advice, and try something different. I take four knives with me, and put four targets surrounding me. I then pretended that the targets were other tributes closing in on me. I swiftly throw the knife at the first target, hitting it in the head. I spin around and hit the next one in the heart. I turn to the next one, and the knife just about hits the targets shoulder. I spin around to the last, and panic. I hesitate as I release the knife, and it hits the floor just in front of the target, the sound of metal against concrete echoing around the room.

I feel disappointed. It was going really well until that happened. With a sigh, I retrieve the knife from the targets it takes another couple of tries to get it perfect, by which time, I have almost given up. When all four knives hit either the head or the heart, I couldn't help but let of a sigh of joy and relief. I think I am ready for the final training session tomorrow.

When the bell rings for the end of the day, I am surprised how quick the day went. I must have been throwing knives for hours. I head up to the top floor without waiting for Peeta, but unfortunately, most of the tributes end up in the lift together, meaning that after the level 12, when Rue and Thresh are gone, Peeta and I are left in silence. The climb between two levels has never taken longer, and today it takes about 24 hours in my head.

When we finally reach the 13th floor, I rush to my room, and conceal myself from everyone, ignoring the knocks on the door and concerned questions from Effie and Peeta. Of course, Haymitch is too drunk to care anyway.

I end up crying. Somewhere in the past five hours, my mind wandered away to the dark corners in my brain. The last thing I remember before I finally drift off into sleep, is that tomorrow will be my last full day of freedom.

~~~

I am running through a forest, my feet getting tangled in the long grass. I am using strip of my effort to run faster, in attempt to escape the snarling, growling dogs behind me. I see a large lake ahead, and go for gold. I sprint faster and faster, every one of my limbs aching. I finally reach the lake and push hard off the ground, diving head first into the ice cold water. The dogs stop in their tracks, their snarling faint now.

I swim deeper and deeper, and when I finally get to the bottom, I see a target about 100 feet away from me. A knife appears next to me, and it is obvious what I have to do. I pick up the knife, which feels heavy. I concentrate on the target, and release the knife. I watch as it sails through the water, closer and closer to the target. I watch as it lodges itself neatly... Into Katniss' heart.

~~~

I awake with a start, a gasp escaping from my mouth. My face is wet with tears, and my whole body feels clammy with sweat. I sit up and look at the time. It's only 7am, and I don't really need to be up until 8am today. But I don't return to my sleep, no matter how heavy my eyelids get. I am scared of returning to my horrendous nightmare.

I crawl out of bed and go straight to the bathroom to take a shower. I stand there for about half an hour, just thinking and absorbing the sweet smell of vanilla.

When I get out of the shower, I feel refreshed, and peaceful. When I walk back into my bedroom, I see that a fresh set of clothes have been set out for me. I pull them on, and go out to breakfast. I feel happy to see that Peeta isn't up yet. I take a seat next to Effie, and opposite Haymitch, who seems to have sobered up a bit since yesterday. When I sit down, he speaks.

"Prim." He starts. "Today, you have your final training session. I hear you have a certain skill with knife throwing?"

"Yes, I'm okay at it." I tell him, trying to be modest.

"Good. So when the Game makers are watching you today, make sure you show off your skills. Make sure they remember you." He emphasises the last sentence, like the louder he says it will make me remember it more. I nod.

"Okay." I say obediently. "Where's Peeta?" I ask, just out of curiosity.

"Oh Peeta. He's already down at the training centre, there was an extra hour of last minute training this morning. We did knock the door, but you were dead to the world."

"Do I have time to go down now?" I ask, jumping up so suddenly a mug of coffee nearly topples over.

"Hey, slow down! No, it was from 6:30 till 7:30. Peeta should be back any second, actually. And with his words, a very sweaty Peeta walked through the door.

Haymitch turns to him.

"Okay, Peeta?" he asks, looking at the state Peeta is in. Peeta nods, grabbing a towel off the radiator and drying his face.

~

We wait in silence, as tribute after tribute goes into the training room to try and impress the game makers. The time gets nearer and nearer. I have less and less time until I go into that room.

"District 11, Rue!" the peace keeper calls through the door. Rue stands up, puts a brave expression on her face and walks through the doors. Time ticks on.

"District 11, Thresh!" the peace keeper calls. Thresh stands, and marches fiercely towards the training room. It's nearly time.

"District 12, Primrose!" It's time. I stand up, and walk through the doors. I walk over to the laughing game makers, all of whom, appear to be drunk. I clear my throat.

"Primrose Everdeen, District 12!" I call to them. They turn their heads towards me, and I walk with shaking hands to the knives.

I wipe my hands on my trousers, trying to rid of all of the sweat. I take three different knives, and walk over to the first cross on the floor. 30 yards away is a target.

I take a deep breath, trying to remember everything that Hazel has told me. Three, Two, One.

I throw the knife, and it spins through the air, hitting the target in the centre of the heart. I can almost feel the tension in the room, as every single game maker has their eyes intensely fixed on me.

I walk to the second cross on the floor, which is 50 yards away from the target. I keep everything the same as the last throw. Three, Two, One.

Although I had aimed for the heart, the knife found its way to the targets head, but it doesn't matter, because it still got an approving nod from the game makers.

Now I stand 70 yards away from the target. This is a real risk, because I've only ever thrown it from this far away once before, but I take a deep breath, and count. Three, Two, One.

And that is what happens when you hesitate. A millisecond of hesitation, and the knife came clattering to the floor just before the target. The sound echoed around the room, and 5 seconds later, so did the sound of the drunken laughter of the game makers.

Anger rises up in me, like a python ready to strike. I storm to the knives, pick one of my favourites, and storm to the 100 yards cross. Three. Two. One.

There is silence in the room as the knife hits the centre of the target's head.