This whole arena was a stage,
and not just the one laiden with the Cornucopia, not just the literal one.
It's more than just a cage,
it's a stage to glamour the tribute's deadly fun.
Captive and captor alike watch this gruesome show,
their children fighting for victory or eternal rest.
Even though it's only the first act, sponsors scream for more.
Which tributes will pass this next test?
All of these distressing thoughts swirl in the boy's mind,
the youngest one,
the one he knew the other tributes were trying to find.
He knew they weren't going to stop, not till their task was done.
He was scared.
The boy, he was terrified from the hunters he hid from.
He was afraid of the maze of the theater at which he faced,
racing down from the hallway, running from the room he had come.
Inside the room had been another of the dead,
Malik Leighton, stabbed in the throat with a fife.
Recalling the corpse, the running boy's legs feel like lead
he still hadn't gotten used to seeing a body without life.
The boy suddenly veers into a room, left
shutting the door quickly with a shaking sigh.
He moves and presses the ear to the door that wasn't deaf,
listening for someone to pass by.
The sound he hears though is unexpected and a complete surprise.
Not footsteps, not the rustling of the curtains of red felt,
but a delightful warble, singing the Ballad of the Old Cypress.
As Sammy listens to the beautiful voice of the woman, his heart melts.
His eyes glaze over and his hand reaches for the door slowly,
an ignoramus grin growing on his face, without all dismay.
The boy creaks the door open a looks out, unaware of his folly,
and he turns towards the direction of the voice, starting to run that way.
The song was drifting through the corridors,
echoing melodically, like musical ambrosia.
In a daze, Sammy follows the sound, completely enthralled by the voice's lure.
He follows it, and follows it, to none other than the Cornucopia.
In his haze, he doesn't notice the the other tributes there, just has hypnotised.
His attention was held only by the girl standing in the center of the stage,
a girl he recognized.
She smiles at him and continues to sing beautifully, completely unfazed.
She was a girl from his district, the one Sammy dreamed of.
But she wasn't the girl, pretty and fair.
The other tributes on the stage saw only their love
living or dead, they were there.
"Wardell?" The tribute from Ten sounded stricken,
YOU ARE READING
Author's Game Entries
RandomI decided since my old entries were just kind of sitting in my drive collecting dust, why not post them? It'd be nice to have them somewhere where I won't lose them, and I can easily direct people to them to read as a writing portfolio sorts. This i...
