Author Games: Memoranda Of Terror

Task One - Interviews - Males

District One - Apollo Leier

The lights played over my face, and brushed over the white suit they had put me in, the top hung open revealing a grey shirt. They had told me it went well with my 'looks' and that it made my hair and eyes stand out. Not that they did anything to either of them, seems my curls were too unruly, and my eyes too 'nice' to try and outline.

I sat down in the plush chair opposite Kahve and shook his hand, he smiled to the audience and I followed his example. After a moment he turned to me and asked the first question, "Let's face it, there is always someone back home! Whether its a girlfriend, brother, mother, or even a friend. Tell me, who is waiting for you back home?"

I didn't have to think for long, "Well, my Mom and Dad, I also have a few friends that I used to hang out with, I never really focused on girls, they spent their time doing different things then us guys." I sat back and waited for the next question.

"We all have a story, what's yours?"

"I guess I could say, that I'm pretty average for someone from District , except that I like to play the lyre, which is my namesakes chosen instrument, very few people from One spend their time on music."

"Interesting... Now, winning's a nice thing, but it doesn't just happen. Have you got any tactics or strategies that you would like to share?"

I looked at him and smirked, "Well, Kahve, I wouldn't want everyone to know what I'm good at, would you?" Kahve chuckles as I continue, "However, I'm pretty good shot with a bow."

"There we have it folks, Apollo Leier!" he stands and I quickly follow, smiling as the lights brush my face.  

District Two - Xavier Waven.

Did not hand in.

District Three - Gizmo Glitch

The fly keeps zooming around my head, and I swat at it once again, hoping it will finally go away. I don’t like it; all it wants is to sting me to feed itself, then it will be gone. Everyone just takes what they want and goes.

“You’re that boy from Three, right?” somebody asks, I think the boy from Thirteen. He’ll probably just take what he wants as well, so I don’t reply.

The fly keeps taunting me.

“Now, we are proud to receive the male tribute from District Three, Gizmo Glitch!” Kahve announces, and I take this as my cue to walk onstage. The crowd applauses; they can’t wait to see me die, or kill, or something like that.

The interviewer smiles at me, though I don’t do anything back; smiling takes effort, and so does frowning. I don’t know him; I don’t need to put in effort.

“Let’s face it, there’s always someone back home! Whether it’s a brother, girlfriend, mother, or even just a friend! Tell me, who’s waiting for you to come back?”

It takes me a while to think of this. “People are waiting. Some people want me to get back to work; I do that well. I’m the one who takes care of fixing any of the machines that make other machines, which is weird really. Why would they have machines to make machines?”

This time, another fly joins in.

“I heard somewhere that flies gather around dead bodies, is that true?” I ask, and Kahve nods. “Well, why do these flies group around me? I’m not dead yet!”