The First Victor

Chapter Four

One by one we file through the gates, "Enjoy the show!" ringing out every time a new person comes in. Once inside, I look immediately up to the giant crowd sitting above us. These are the "tiers" I noticed before, all seating for people to watch. All of these Capitol people, dressed in their fancy clothes, looking at us with some disgust, some hatred, and some excitement to see us die. Then I look around the base of the building, where we will be fighting. The ground is hard and shiny in a pattern of white and gray. In the center is the symbol of the Capitol, a bird looking thing with stars encircling it. In this spot lies several knives, spears, axes, and other deadly weapons. Finally, what I assume to be twenty-four total red markings spread out in a wide circle. These are where the Peacekeepers are sending us. "Stay on your mark or you will be shot," each of them says as we step onto the red. Their firearms never lower from our heads. Once everyone is inside and on their marks, a different, more human voice booms out from above, "Wait for the countdown to end or you will be shot." This is the Peacekeeper's signal to leave, and even as they exit, they walk backwards, still aiming at us. I see the others positioned above us, ready to shoot at any moment.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first annual Hunger Games," the same human voice says, "The rules are simple, the last one standing wins. You can kill each other or starve to death." The countdown begins from above in the funny-sounding voice. "Ten... nine..." This is all happening so fast. I glance at the other kid's faces, and they look as unsure as I must. Are we doing this? "Seven... six..." A few of them are sobbing, and I'm sure one of those sobs belongs to Millie. I don't have a plan. I was trying to accept my fate on the train but couldn't. That means I would have to kill someone to win. Maybe not, maybe everyone else will kill each other and I won't have to hurt anyone. But I know that if I get attacked I'll defend my life the best I can. I'm just not sure if my best will be enough.

"Two.. one." A buzzer sounds for a moment, then it's silent. The expectation is radiating off the Capitol people in the stands. No one on the ground moves at first. The kid that looked like he was suffering heat exhaustion is on the floor, probably blacked out. We all awkwardly glance around at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. It comes sooner than I thought it would.

A boy standing seven or eight spots down from me walks towards the center, struggling to appear confident. He's on the older side, maybe seventeen? He's tall and bulky, with deep brown skin and hair. He picks up a spear, swiftly turns to face another boy, who looks just as strong, and hurls the weapon directly into his chest. I guess he decided his strategy would be to take out the other strongest competitors. The crowd gasps as the boy falls to his knees, pulls the spear from his body, and crumbles to the ground, coughing up blood. The audience erupts into applause as chaos breaks out. That's what it takes for people to scramble, running in every direction, going for the weapons, getting away from them. I feel frozen. I'm stuck on my mark, just watching it all ensue around me. To my right I watch a boy get stabbed in the throat, and as he stumbles backwards, a fleeing girl runs into him.

To my left I watch two girls wrestling on the ground, and a skinny blonde kid with an ax runs up to them, swinging it wildly. Ahead of me, a boy who can't be more than fourteen years old is running straight towards me with a sword. It's too big for him and awkward in his grip, screwing up his balance. I dive out of the way and stick my foot out to trip him. I could grab the sword from him and kill him now while he's down. But instead I turn and run in the other direction, towards a wall. What am I going to do with a sword? It wouldn't be any more use in my hands than his.

The cheers of the audience mixed with the sights of blood and death are too much for me. I feel sick. I slap my hand on the wall to steady myself and vomit on my shoes. I only allow myself to throw up once, because I need to watch my back. And just as I lift my head up and turn, the girl who had tripped over the dying boy earlier is coming my way, with a knife I assume she got from his throat. I block her attack, shoving her into the wall. I grab her wrist and twist it as much as I can, urging her to release the weapon. She yelps and finally loses her hold on it and it clatters to the ground. I smash my elbow into her jaw and push her to the ground. I don't want to kill anyone unless I absolutely must, so I leave her there.