A Knife in the Dark | ✓

One

I was fourteen. At that (young) age, I was already one of the fiercest fighters in District Two.

I guess that warrants an explanation.

District Two was one of the three "career districts" within Panem's Hunger Games. The other two were District One and District Four. This basically means that they were the Capitol's favorites, for one reason or another. District One provided them with luxury items like diamonds and gold and fancy chandeliers. District Four provided the people of the Capitol with their favorite type of food--the kind from the sea. It was a delicacy in any district.

And then we had my home. District Two. Mostly we were known for our seemingly endless supply of Peacekeepers that poured from our academies like blood from a deep wound. We fueled the army and guarded the districts and the Capitol. But that wasn't our actual purpose. Actually, we provided stone and construction materials. Some of the best Capitol architects were from District Two. Not that they would have ever let you know that. Also, being the "military state" of Panem, we were pretty advanced in our torture, fighting, and scheming methods, meaning that we were generally excellent picks to be Gamemakers. Any cruel plot you saw in the Games probably came from the mind of one of our own.

It was illegal to train and prepare for the Hunger Games prior to being reaped. However, living in District Two--the Capitol's absolute favorite--meant that you got to bend some laws every now and then. People said that our training was all underground and kept a secret? Ha. Yeah, right. It wasn't. In fact, we had a Training Center built exactly like the one for tributes in the Capitol, stocked with the same weapons and everything. Our trainers were taught with the ones in the Capitol. It was encouraged. We didn't have to, but depending on your parents, you could have been forced to, and no one would argue against that. I'd seen the effects of the Breaking plenty of times to know how easy it is to force the hand of a child or teenager. Their wills crumble easily. Even the strongest, most rebellious had often found themselves turning to quick putty in the trainers' hands.

Unlike a lot of other kids in the district, I chose to train. I'd wanted this since I was six and was told that my parents died in the fire that consumed my childhood home, leaving me terrified, alone, and in the hands of a childless couple. At this point, eight years later, I'd beaten my way to the near top. The push of my adoptive father--the Head Peacekeeper for our district--had helped, I supposed, but most of it was my iron will.

Why do I say near-top? Well, I wasn't the top fighter. I would have been, but I was tied with the Mayor's son. Ridiculous, because he was one of the kids that I'd seen--well, heard--being Broken.

His name was Cato Marcellus. He was two years my senior, six inches taller than me, and a complete asshole. He was betrothed to a girl in my class named Laelia Gavros, who was nothing more than an airheaded bitch (civil, I supposed, but an airheaded bitch). He was cute, I guessed. But he was an asshole.

The was also the fact that you didn't mess with a Marcellus. Even if they messed with you first.

It was a pity that I didn't listen.

I should have been finished training. Checking the watch on my wrist, I saw that it was half past five. I should have been on my way to the locker rooms, changing into my clothes and rushing to make it home before dinner was on the table. But after a long three hour archery session, I needed something more close-contact. Something rougher.

Most people had cleared out by then or were walking out with bags slung over their shoulders. It was a Thursday, and based off of their chatter, everyone just wanted the week to end so they got their two days off. I ducked behind some dummies and slowly started towards the rack of swords. Swords aren't for girls, the chiding words of basically everyone else hissed. My braids irritated the skin of my neck and chin, and I shoved them back over my shoulder. Note to self: one braid might be less annoying. Try that tomorrow.