Sharp Tools

Chapter 7: The 66th Hunger Games

Clove's POV:

"Guys, come on it's starting!" I yell to my family as I grab the remote and turn on the television.

We all circle around the small projector in our living room, squished in the couch with eyes riveted toward the screen. I watch as the camera pans to each tribute waiting for the countdown to end. I hold my breath as Dallas comes onto the screen, his face focused and blue eyes only concentrated on the Cornucopia.

A loud voice boom across the plain: "Ladies and gentlemen, let the sixty-sixth Hunger Games begin!"

"Come on, son." Dad whispers. 

I fiddle with the pendant Dally gave me before he left, as if affected his performance in the games. I can only imagine what Aunt E is going through, between the Tribute Parade, Training, Score Distributions, and surviving the Games, she must be stressed. Especially since one of her tributes is her nephew. I have high hopes for his success. He scored a 10 in training. I assume it was because of his strength and even weaponry he learned from his mentors. But a small part in the back of my mind worries that something might happen and he won't survive. That that moment in the building after the Reaping would be the last time I would talk to him. 

No. I can't think like this. He's going to win. He has to. He said he'd see me later. 

I quickly shake out of my thoughts as the Games begin to start.

"5....."

"4....."

"3....."

"2....."

"1....." 

As soon at it reaches 0, a gong sounds, officially initiating the start of the Games. Almost immediately, chaos floods the arena. Tributes dispersed in different directions, some fleeing away from the Cornucopia, others heading straight for the center, and most trying to obtain a supply bag before getting killed. You don't even know where to look. Suddenly, a flash of bright red overwhelms the arena. As the male district one tribute makes the first kill, a cannon sounds. More red. More cannons. It's like a never-ending cycle. 

Then I see Dally. He was one of those who headed straight for the Cornucopia. I didn't know whether to be proud he wasn't a coward and didn't run away, or worried that someone might kill him. But all my fears evaporated as a few other tributes gave him nods of acknowledgements. The career pack. I was so focused on the screen that I didn't notice Mom shielding Carter and Crystal from view. Dad was too captivated by the events to be bothered.

That's why when I saw it. Dally killed someone. I don't remember who she was, what district she was from, or even her name, but I do know that he killed her. I couldn't help but let a gasp escape my mouth, morbidly surprised by the lack of apathy on his face and the impassioned bloodlust displayed in his actions.

"What? What happened?!" I hear the twins cry.

Mom ignores them, continuing to conceal the violence displayed on our screen, and instead looks at me. Weirdly enough, she doesn't tell me to not respond, or to even look away. She only stares me in the eyes, and it's like we have a obscure understanding of each other. He doesn't want to, but he needs to kill to survive. No, not to survive, but to return to us.

I look back toward the screen to see that the violence has severely diminished. Now, a stray of corpses litter the ground, blood stained into the grass and onto their faces. Just the look of it makes me want to gag. 

"WOOOO," the district one male yells. "how many did you guys get? I got 3." The camera quickly pans over him for us to see the large smirk across his face.