UPHILL BATTLE (Cato)

One: Aemilia changed her hair

Dedicated to my best friend, who helped me with this.




Aemilia Invictus strutted into the stage.

She was dressed in the most ridiculous, yellow - well let's just call it a thing. Yes, she was wearing a ridiculous, yellow, thing. It wasn't a nice yellow either, a sunset or honey shade. No, Aemilia was dressed in lemon yellow, with a lime sash and stupidly tall high heels.

To top off the costume, her beehive of hair had changed colour. To neon orange. All in all, she looked as if she'd just fallen out of a fruit bowl. No wonder District Ten always did awfully in the games. This was our escort.

Aemilia pressed her green lips together, before calling out, "Hello! Hello."

All was silent as we stared at her. Someone coughed.

She cleared her throat, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

It was the same every year. Every year. Of course, this time Aemilia changed her hair again. Last year, she had it like Caesar Flickerman's, and it looked like her head was bleeding . Unfortunate, truly.

A million thoughts whizzed through my mind, accompanied by cold fear, settling like a rock in my stomach. Any name could be plucked from one of those bowls. Any. All I could was hope that it wouldn't be me.

At some point, the video that had been playing finished. It was on every year. I noticed a while back that Aemilia always mouthed along, for some strange reason known only to herself. Some kind of Capitol pride thing? I wouldn't be surprised if it was.

I realised I had zoned out when, Aemilia's voice increased in volume even more, as she crowed, "Ladies first!"

 She tottered over to the bowl on the left. It was circular, almost a complete sphere had it not been for the hand sized hole at the top. Filling it almost to the brim, slip upon slip of tiny paper names, carefully folded so that no one could see.

Her orange nails brushed them as she lowered her hand inside. Her fingers felt around, like antennae on a butterfly searching it's surroundings. For a solid couple of seconds, she simply rooted around for a slip, before finally she grasped one and pulled her hand out.

Aemilia straightened, and gently unfolded the crisp paper. She cleared her throat.

I held my breath. It was dead silent. I stood rigid, staring with apprehension at the escort. Not me, not me, not me.

 "Rhea Aaron!"

My heart stopped. Rhea Aaron, Rhea Aaron, Rhea Aaron. My own name echoed around my head. Cold fear enveloped me. Heads turned, whispers broke out. Hands reached out, grabbing at the fabric of my dress, pushing me forward as girls I knew from work, from the shops, from school offered me to the Peacekeepers.

The crowd parted around me, a long path stretching all the way up the the stage, where the white-uniformed figures stood. I took a step forward. Then another  and another. As I walked, the fog in my brain cleared and I fixed my face, twisting my features easily into an emotionless mask.

My shoes clacked on the wooden steps. Eyes followed my every move. Behind me, the crowd moved back into position. I took a deep breath, and walked steadily towards Aemilia, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress.

I probably looked a state, dark hair pinned messily back and clad in a pale, ivory coloured sundress. A wisp of coffee coloured hair had escaped, and invaded the side of my forehead.

Aemilia moved sideways slightly, and with an over exaggerated smile and far too much enthusiasm, asked me, "How old are you then, Rhea?"

 " I'm sixteen. " I spat out. Aemilia looked to me as if she wanted me to expand on that. I stared back at her stoically. She gestured with her hands, 

 "And...?"

 I took the cue, "And I work on a farm with my father."

 Aemilia nodded, satisfied. She then turned to the other bowl, which sat ominously in place, "Now for our male tribute!"

 I shook my head in disgust as she called out the name, "Ben Holstein!" What an irritating woman. Barely a human, actually. More of an alien from another planet. Might as well have been. With her makeup, fancy dresses and brightly coloured hairstyles.

The shock was beginning to set in, as 'Ben ' and I were herded to the edge of the stage, and escorted towards the Justice Building. I was going into the games. The Hunger Games. Where I would likely die.

The peacekeepers left me in the tribute room, next to Ben's. I recognised the tall eighteen year old from the nearby farms. Although I had never known his name, I knew that he was rude and surly, from previous encounters. He was a herder, unlike myself, as I worked partially with the cows and sheep, and partially with the bull.

The bull on Miranda Farm was called Duke Augustus of Miranda. The workers all called him Duke for short. We clearly didn't name him originally. I had never really loved the monstrous hulking thing, with its chestnut brown, shaggy fur, stubby legs and angry little eyes, but I felt like I might miss it on some way, considering I was his keeper.

I was jolted from my thoughts by the door thumping open, to reveal my first visitor. My dad. He stood there for a moment, as the door then closed again behind him. Thump. The sound made us both jolt into action, running at each other and crashing together in a messy, emotional, heartfelt hug.

He sobbed, I whimpered in his warm, familiar arms, but forced myself not to cry. If the cameras saw tear streams and puffy eyes then I would be labelled as weak by the other tributes. I couldnt allow that. I pulled away, as my father sighed.

 "Please, Rhea. Come back to me. I can't lose you too...."

 I knew he was referring to my mothers death, giving birth to me. Ever since my first breath and my mum's last, I was the only thing my dad had left. I was his last link to happiness and joy. My heart ached, and stung, and threatened to rip from my chest. I couldn't leave him. He would be fine money wise, and physically, but his mind would be lost to whatever horrors my existence kept at bay. I couldn't bear to even think about that happening to Devon Aaron, my father.

 "I'll try, dad, I'll try...." I murmured, hugging him again. A frown marred my face, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

 " Why did it have to be you..... " he wailed.

The door banged open, we both turned instinctively. A peacekeeper stood in the doorway, "Times up." he said.

And with that, I was alone once more in the room.

The first chapter done! Don't worry, Cato will appear in the next couple of chapters of Uphill Battle. Unlike Buzzcut Season, Cato appears sooner.

Also, this time I've gone with gifs and pictures for each chapter, instead of the watercolour, flowery numbers which appeared last. Thank god🙄. 

We don't like Ben.