The Games We Play

The Tributes

  Light was seeping through my closed eyelids, voices were murmuring excitedly around me and something smelled of medicine and dying flowers. Slowly, I opened my eyes and caught a glimpse of four familiar faces in the infirmary. Head Trainer Ram was by the door, talking to two trainers, Calla and Blank - the latter was Cato's trainer. Cato looked uncomfortable on his seat by my bed, his eyes glued on the wall clock. I sat up, gathering all the attention. "Where the hell am I?"

"How are you feeling, Clove?" Ram asked me with a small smile on his face.

"Like shit. Where the hell am I?" I repeated my question but nobody answered. I saw Calla and Blank's faces wearing similar smug grins. I wondered why they looked so happy, so I asked, "Why are you two grinning like insane clowns? What's up?"

"I've been asking them the same question." Cato grumbled. He looked pissed, "They wouldn't tell me unless you're awake." He turned his attention to the two trainers, "Are you going to tell me what Spade told you guys?" Spade was the Head Trainer of the four Career Centers around District Two. He was famous for training three of the Victors: Lyme; Brutus; and Magdalena.

"Tournament is cancelled." Blank laughed, "Spade called it off."

Cato rose from his seat, in indignation. "Then what the hell are you two so happy about? Am I disqualified from the Tournament? Did Spade disqualify us for the Tournament?" The blond was clearly full of questions, I just waited for them to continue.

Calla answered, "No. Spade just thought it was irrelevant now. He decided to have you two as the tributes for District Two. He liked your little show well enough." Her eyes told me that it was Spade who stopped Cato from killing me. Was he also there to witness the whole thing? "He said he'd meet you two tomorrow to discuss the flaws in your fighting styles."

"Wait. What?" Maybe they gave me more morphling than I could handle, was I hallucinating? Did I hear them correctly? I'd be in this year's Games alongside Cato?

My surprise went along with me on my way back home and Magdalena watched me with sharp eyes when I entered our house. "You were supposed to be back an hour ago, Clover." She had a knife ready in her hand but when I told her the reason for my lateness, Magdalena actually smiled and returned the knife back to her belt and nodded as a response, "This is the only exception. Wonderful work, Clove." Her words made me smile as well and it didn't matter to me when she left me standing by the foyer, all that matters is that I'd be in the Capitol in few weeks time and away from the life I was leading.

A spot in the Games was so exclusive that not everyone can get in. In the other Districts, the Games were feared as though it was a death sentence but in One and Two, sometimes even Four, The Hunger Games was a chance for hope and eternal glory. A Victor is a hero, revered and respected. When you lose, your memory is shamed along with your family. When you lose, you are not good and strong enough. You are replaceable. I am good enough. I will be respected.

I intend to win.

Tomorrow morning, people suddenly knew my name. The cancellation of the Tournament caught attention and the two names, mine and Cato's, were suddenly overnight celebrities. People, young and old, called out my name as though I knew them. Those who didn't like me were the teenagers hoping to compete, I only smirked triumphantly at them. They don't matter to me, they never did.

When I reached the Center, Cato was waiting for me by the entrance. He looked up from his thoughts and I immediately went into defense mode. Cato's eyebrows met in confusion, "Jeez, Clove, I only wanted to talk." He shook his head, "I swear, you need a social life. You're so weird."

"What do you want?" I asked, already irritated.

"I want to talk to you, settle differences."