"Maybe it's been years
since I genuinely smiled.
Maybe it's been years
since I wanted to be apart of anything."
Dexter Lowhill, District Elevens sixth winner of the 69th Hunger Games at the ripe age of eighteen years old.
It was his last reaping for...
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"You're all fucking useless."
Marina had her hand on Dexter's shoulder as they walked down the cold hallway, lightly rubbing up and down as if that might make him feel better.
"The suit is thin, so it's going to be hot again. Look out for water sources, but we'll try to send you some," Marina whispered, holding his shoulders tightly as she stood in front of him. She wore no loud colors today; the only color she wore was black.
Dexter nodded at his words, internally grimacing. The last arena he had was boiling and humid, even rained the last day. Dexter didn't want a repeat of that. "Yeah, thanks," he whispered, clearing his throat. Sixty seconds until launch.
Before he went to step into the elevator, he quickly hugged Marina. She reciprocated immediately, her head buried in Dexter's shoulder as she cried. "I'll... I'll send something to Archer, don't worry about him," she whispered through cries.
Dexter nodded, holding her tighter. He was shaking, and he didn't doubt that Marina could tell.
"I don't want to go up," Dexter whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. Thirty seconds till launch, thirty seconds until Dexter would begin the fight for not only his life but for two seventeen-year-olds who were supposedly going to start a revolution. The more Dexter thought about it, the less confident he was in Haymitch's plan.
"You'll do great," Marina assured him, pulling away and cupping Dexter's face with her hands. Dexter leaned into her touch, feeling her wipe the tears underneath his eyes. "Chin up. I love you, and I love Archer. I'll give him the biggest hug for you," she told him with a nod. Dexter nodded back, not wanting to think about Archer. He didn't know if he was ever going to see his brother ever again, and he didn't get to say goodbye.
Marina held his hand as she walked him up to the elevator, only breaking apart when she had to. Dexter stood in the middle, hands shaking by his sides as the glass shut between them. He put his forehead against the glass, and so did Marina.
"I love you," She told him through the glass.
Dexter didn't get to respond, as he was already going up.
"May the odds forever be in your favor." The robotic voice pierced Dexters ears as the elevator sped up to the arena. Dexter's heart felt like it was about to pump out of his chest. He'd rather die like that than in the hands of his own friends.
As soon as the door opened to the top, all he got was a wave of heat that made his skin sticky, and a blast of sunlight. He winced, covering his eyes as he rose to the top, blinking a bit to adjust.
"Ten." Ten instead of the usual sixty seconds felt like a punishment.
His heart practically stopped when he could finally see again, looking all around. He was standing on a big podium, surrounded by water. The closest walkway to the middle was a good seven feet away, and it's not like Dexter could jump that far. Knowing the game makers, there was no way the water was shallow. Dexter wouldn't be shocked if the water was infested with piranhas.
