The 53rd Hunger Games- Two Words

49.A Dangerous Game

I feel like I haven't said enough. I don't think it's safe to say more, though. Lingering on the topic of Hadrian isn't allowed. The Capitol can't know my secret. President Snow would surely kill me if I even hinted at our romance.

President Snow could make it look like an accident.

The applause brings me back to the interview.

There are a few more questions. Only a couple concern the arena. These are the hardest for me to answer. But I do answer, not letting myself feel anything, but smiling, grinning, overjoyed on the outside.

In between questions, when I have a few seconds to spare, I look through the crowd. Not to find Tule or Wade; they sit off to the side of the stage with the rest of my support crew. Velia bounces up and down in her chair, she is so excited. My stylist, prep team, escort and mentors were introduced at the start of my interview/showing of the Games.

I'm really looking for the president. Is he here? Or is he watching from his mansion, his horrible cold, blood-coloured mansion?

I think the interview is going well. The spectators are all beaming up at me. This isn't the official interview, really. The private one takes place tomorrow. That one is not so worrying, though. It is filmed in my floor of the Training Centre. It is broadcasted live, but there is no audience. No, now is the time to concentrate. I must get it right.

Caesar asks me a final question. Finally, the interview is over. It was short, fifteen minutes at the most. It seemed longer, though.

I notice that I am beginning to tremble a little. In anticipation of what I will see. Last year, they made the montage horribly upbeat. Happy music was playing, and all the colours were made bright, bright, bright. What will they do this year? Please, not upbeat. They won't make it downbeat. I don't know what I'm hoping for. I think I'll close my eyes.

Caesar turns to address the audience. "Are you ready to watch this year's Hunger Games?"

One of the loudest cheers of the night is emitted.

Keeping the smile on my face becomes harder. Hurry up! I just want this night to end. I am getting hot under my dress. Seeing the Games is the last thing I want. Watching other years of it was torture enough. Years where I wasn't in the arena, but those I knew were. I was never close to them; they were older girls and boys I'd seen around school and the market. One year, a girl who took the same train as me, whom I sometimes saw walking towards the warehouse next to mine, was chosen to go into the Games. She died.

I hate it. It is terrible, seeing people from my district die.

Though maybe winning is worse than dying.

The lights dim. The seal appears on the screen. Everyone is silent.

The first half hour of footage is of pre-arena events. The Tribute Parade, the Interviews. For this part, I don't really pay attention. Then the footage of the Games comes on.

The first shot is of the Cornucopia, from directly above. I can see myself, Gladius, Hadrian, Arabella, Jem, Argus, Marina, the girl from One, the boy from Five, the girl from Nine, everyone. Then the camera cuts across each face. I am the first. Hadrian is fifth or sixth or seventh, I think. He doesn't look as gaunt as I remember him being when he died. He isn't smiling.

I have to look away as the rest of the tributes flash across the screen. How can they do this? How can victors look at the screen and bear it? It is cruel, because when I see him, it is like Hadrian is almost alive.

But he is dead. So are the other tributes. Twenty-three dead. I killed some of them. I drove a blade into them. I knew that I was killing them. I wanted to kill them. It sinks in again, my murdering. How ruthless I was.