It is perhaps unsurprising that my dreams that night are ringed in fire. But the most vivid detail I recall in the morning is the silhouette of the hunter, dark against a blazing sunset, her bow and arrow primed for release. In the few moments I have to myself, blinking sleepily in my bed, I try to work out whether this was a nightmare or actually a good dream. I feel strange – a little nauseous, slightly giddy. But also calm and self-righteous. I may not have a clear plan as to how to accomplish it, but I do have a goal.After I shower, I see some athletic wear has been laid out for me - this will be for the training sessions, which start today. I meet Haymitch coming out of his room and we walk into the dining room together. Katniss is already there, not eating anything but a roll, which she is absently dipping into her mug.
"Good morning!" I say and she turns and looks at me, and she frowns a little. It's palpable - the wall that she is putting up between us - and I get it, I do, but it's so contrary to every last instinct in me. Why hurry into the competition? It's coming soon enough.
I pick at some eggs and pancakes and a cup of coffee. Haymitch starts devouring stew. Katniss picks up another roll and turns it over in her hands, still frowning in contemplation.
After he finally finishes eating, Haymitch pulls out his flask and drinks straight from it. "So, let's get down to business," he says, wiping his mouth. "Training. First off, if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now."
Hmm, this might be a good idea - I need to figure out some way to achieve my goal, and maybe Haymitch can help.
"Why would you do that?" asks Katniss.
"Say you had a secret skill you might not want the other to know about."
Katniss and I look at each other, and I laugh out loud - all my skills are pretty benign. "I don't have any secret skills and I already know what yours is, right? I've eaten enough of your squirrels."
She raises her eyebrow, as if surprised. "You can coach us together," she tells Haymitch.
"All right, so let me know what you can do."
"I can't do anything," I say bluntly. "Unless you count baking bread."
"Sorry, I don't. Katniss? I already know you're handy with a knife…."
She shrugs. "Not really - but I can hunt. With a bow and arrow."
"And you're good?"
Seriously? Is Haymitch the only person in District 12 who doesn't know it? I suppose he could afford to buy real meat. It's just interesting that Katniss never attempted to gain him as a customer. Too close to the Capitol, maybe – that might be it.
Katniss hesitates on the answer. "I'm all right," she says modestly.
"She's excellent," I cut in, a little surprised to find myself annoyed by her self-deprecation. "My father buys her squirrels. He always says how her arrows never pierce the body - always just in the eye. Same with the rabbits she sells the butcher. She can even bring down deer."
Katniss' mouth drops open and she narrows her eyes at me. "What are you doing?"
"What are you doing?" I fire back. "If he's going to help you, he has to know what you're capable of. Don't underrate yourself."
At this, she curls her lip. "What about you? I've seen you in the market. You can lift hundred-pound bags of flour. Tell him that. That's not nothing."
Wait … what? Where is this coming from? "Yes, and I'm sure the arena will be full of bags of flour for me to chuck at people. It's not like being able to use a weapon. You know it's not."
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peetas story
Fanfictionwhat was it like to be in the games as peeta? this story is from peetas poverty FULL DISCLOSURE IT IS NOT MY STORY