The Hunger Games: On the 70th ©

Chapter 4

Thain Byrns POV

           No, there had to have been some kind of mistake. This couldn’t be happening, not to me. No, it had been a mere ten slips amongst thousands, I knew for certain there were others with more than double that number. I’d done the math. My chances of being chosen had been so remote that I hadn’t bothered worrying; never even considered it a possibility.

My name…

Why me?

Amidst a sea of names…

There were so many others.

Why am I still being punished?

Can’t be true!

Haven’t I been through enough?

How can this be?

 

 

       It felt as if my soul had disconnected from my body; floating far away from this nightmarish truth, dissipating into nothingness. I felt like a ghost, there but also not there, in limbo. Numb. From somewhere, far away, I could vaguely see myself; hands curled tightly into fists at my sides, striding with a look of confidence toward the stage, my face slack and emotionless, appearing at ease and indifferent with this turn of events. Unafraid.

Though I tried to portray a calm and collected exterior I remained lost in a haze of shock and bewilderment while I made my way through the masses. I could hear the crowd murmuring, but as my mind grew lucid and the fog of confusion dissolved, a single phrase kept repeating in over and over in my head.

I. Will. Not. Die!

           This wasn’t just a simple wish; a fool’s hopeful yearning. It was my ‘inner hunger’ loudly making a statement, a proclamation. I was stating an obvious truth. Although these people didn’t know it, they were looking at the next winner of the games.

Concentrate.

Can’t show any weakness.

Not now.

I’m invincible.

Just keep walking.

The games start from the moment you’re reaped.

Have to look fearsome.

Already looked like a fool before.

Must make the other tributes dread me.

One step, then the next.

Walk deliberately.

No rush.

Nice even pace.

               I braced myself and climbed the steps slowly, and then took my place on the other side of the podium. I crossed my arms loosely in front of my chest and let my face fall into a light scowl.

                “My my! Aren’t you a sight, such a strapping young man!” Denedi exclaimed with a giddy smile. “I’ll bet your whole district feels proud to have you represent them! The odds are looking good no?” she asked the buzzing crowd without waiting for an answer. “Now why don’t you tell the lovely people watching at home what your name is Mr. Olive Eyes?”

                “They should already know, you read it loud and clear.” I responded curtly, staring daggers at the nearest camera. I was determined to win, but as myself, not some pretty-boy puppet putting on a show for the Capitol people.

                Denedi appeared unfazed by my tone and, with a giggle, waved me off and turned back to the crowd. “Ooo! Seems like we have a fighter this year don’t we? Now, come one everyone, let’s give a big warm round of applause to our two fabulous tributes!”

                The mayor shuffle back to the front of the stage and motioned for me and Annie to shake hands, then a round of, mostly unenthusiastic, clapping spread around the square, suddenly growing loud when a group of peacekeepers near the entrance started to reach for their batons.

                I noticed Annie’s hands were thin and slightly clammy, her face still pale as she made the effort to appear unemotional. She gave my hand what I assumed was a reassuring squeeze, then she looked up suddenly, her sad eyes searching mine with a look of what? Hope?

Don’t even think about it.

You’d be foolish to trust me.

I’m not helping you.

I’m not helping anyone in there.

You’re gonna have to fend for yourself.

I will kill you if I have to…

                As if she’d read my thoughts her eyes quickly darted back to the ground. The crowd continued to cheer and as the national anthem of Panem started to play we both turned back to face the crowd. A sudden sense of guilt started to leach its way into my thoughts. I could remember her then; her sea green eyes, so lively and bright, her thick wavy brown hair in two high pig-tails bouncing as she ran around laughing gregariously, sun warming her rosy cheeks, her scrawny knees covered in a thin layer of sand, seashells rustling in her pocket as she ran around with an innocent smile on her face. So unaware of what was to come.

I’m sorry Annie…

But I’m going to live.

There’s going to be other tributes.

Hopefully someone will kill you before I have to.

And if they don’t…Well, then I’ll do what I have to.

I will win...