Black Ice (The Hunger Games--Fanfic)

s e v e n

I shuffle my feet awkwardly, not knowing what to do. This is everyone's first training session, yet they all seem to have much more of a clue of what to do than I do. Much more of a clue than I ever will.

Each tribute has a number pinned to the back of their shirt, the number district they are from. Mine is a 4. Sam also has a 4 on his back, but that is because he too is from district 4.

I look up, though I don't really want to make eye contact with anyone, because they might see into my mind and find out a way to kill me.

Don't be silly.

"Mira, right?"

I look up.

It's another tribute, but she is facing me, so I cannot see the number pinned to her back, though it is likely she wants to sort out some allies, as she isn't very good at fighting. Most people who aren't careers, are not exactly the best fighters.

In the first four districts, we are referred to as 'careers'. We are bought up to be prepared for this sort of onslaught, with training for those who wish to survive the longest, and then the older ones volunteer for the younger ones. Which is why no one volunteered for me, because I am one of the older ones. They don't care about sparing my blood as much.

I nod, in response to the girl's question.

"Hi, I'm Rose,"

"Like the plant- you know the red flower? My mum likes those,"

"Yes... I do know... Yes..." she looks confused into my eyes.

Should I have said that? Maybe? Maybe not? Oh goodness, why did I say that? What must she think of me? Will she tell the others I'm crazy?

"Don't tell them please!" I blurt out.

For goodness sake, Mira. Just keep your mouth shut, until she asks you to talk. With your luck it will be possible to mess this up even more!

"Tell who what?"

"Oh, sorry, nothing, never mind. Hi Rose,"

"Yeah, I think I am going to go now, see you around,"

Yeah, when she's about to rip your head off.

"Shut up," I murmur.

She turns around. Oh crumbs...

"NO! NO, NOT YOU- DON'T WORRY!"

By this point the majority of the tributes have turned to face me. Most of them holding spears, axes and knives, looking like they might throw them at me instead. No... No... No...

"Urm..."

Way to ruin your chances, the few you had.

After a couple more seconds of awkward glares, they all slowly turn back to what they were doing, and shake their heads, a few murmuring rude things, thinking I cannot hear them. Or maybe wanting me to hear them, in a more subtle way?

I sigh, and bite my nails in frustration and fear. How could I have been so silly? She just said hi. I messed up the entire conversation.

As I take a look around, I notice how the other career tributes are showing off their skills of strength. I wander if they took the training that their district offers to them, to help them prepare for death. Most likely. I don't see how anyone could be born ready to chop off the limbs of another human.

Most of the skill stations are taken, so I walk over to camouflage. I'm not really any good at this sort of thing, and I was never too artistic back home, though I would do the occasional paining or drawing when I was younger.