The Smartest Of Them All

The Capitol

I say nothing, show no sign of emotion, even though my insides are screaming and im constantly making new plans, and try to figure outhow to survive this hell. Because without a stradegy i'll be deadwithin a day

The rest of the journey to the capitol passes quickly.

I look at my opponents, try to assess their talent, their strength. One girl stands out to me. She volunteers for her little sister, and I wonder if I would have done the same for Flyyn if he was chosen, butI couldn't seem to find an awnser to that question.

I find myself looking for people who look like they could help me, but I stop myself before I could think any further. I know i can't make any alliances, the other person would bertay me eventually, or get killed. I can't decide which is worse. I have to win this with intelligence because i know exaclty i cant win a fight with one ofthe kids from districts 1 or 2, that have been training their wholelife for this fight, this sick game. At least not a physical one. Ihave to trick them, so they would become parts of my plan, and not the ones that were going to ruin it.

I dont really talk to anyone, our mentor just seems like she wants to get rid of us as fast as she can and I dont blame her. I wouldprobably go crazy if I met two new kids every year and then send themto die.

And as for Chris, I avoid him and he avoids me. I know how he thinks, he dosent have a strategy and I know that that isnt going to end well. He is too agressive and will not think about what he does. Chris is the type to run head first in a wall. I give him two days. If he's lucky.

We arrive in the capital, and immediatly, I was surrounded by people with strange accents, complaining about the way I look and what they have to do to make me presentable. Someone screams for a bath to be prepared and I get left alone to wash myself. After I get out of the tub of weird smelling oils and foam I feel clean. Cleaner than i have in a while. But I can't enjoy the feeling at all. I feel awful.

The next hours are just one long tangle of stylists and helpers who get me ready for the parade and put me in a horribly scratchy outfit made of palliates. I remeber the parade , the flashing outfits, the crowd of people cheering us on. How I hate them all. But we smile and wave and give the people what they want. Give the sponsors what they want. Because they are going to decide if we're dead or alive.

But as soon as the carriage of District 12 joins the parade we are not the center of attention anymore. Their Tributes, Peeta and Katniss were their names if I remember correctly, are wearing outfits that seem to be burning. The longer you look at the Fabric, the harder it is to look away. And the crowd is loving it.

After President Snow finished his speech we get brought back to the center.

After an awkward multiple course meal I lie in bed, thinking about my stradegy for tomorrows training. I know how to defend myself, but I'm not particularly great at anything that could help me win a physical fight. But if my plan works, I'm not going to have to fight anybody, I'm going to let them fight eachother. So I'm going to concentrate on training in building traps and finding food that I can eat. The trick is to not seem too weak, because that would make you a target, but also not too strong, because then, a lot of people are going to see you as a danger they have to get rid of.

I can feel myself falling asleep, the bed is comfortable and the day was long. I know I'm going to wake up in the middle of the night again, frantic and scared, my face wet from tears and sweat. That is the only time I allow myself to cry. Because no one is watching then. Those are the only minutes of relief, where I can just let everything out.