The dark haired threat

Part 20-gutless eyes

Evening writing session okay im down lesgo. something exciting is about to happen so please enjoy. 

okay here it is, part twenty;

As soon as i see his empty eyes it takes all the strength i have in my  body to not punch him square in the face, how can one person be so god damn irritating?! "i AM paying attention Bai, you ran at me out nowhere" i acknowledge and begin speaking again before he can retort-he wont like that "You know, in the games that could be a really dangerous trait" this gets his attention. Bailey scratches his head in confusion before unconsciously pulling up through his spine and leaning forward eager for me to elaborate. "Its all about strategy right?" i ask hoping he will at least know that much of the death match he appears to be ridiculously  infatuated with, he nods right away just like the entirety of the capitol nod graciously at president Snow whenever he speaks or moves, even breathing will earn him a deafening round of applause. His response lets me know i have the authority and so i continue "say you're in the games, its a forest simulation and its down to the final three. you hear a far away sound and go running as fast as you legs will take you through the greenery, you cut a corner with your sword in your backpack ensuring maximum speed can be reached and then BANG a cannon goes off and your picture flashes in the sky" Bailey looks confused at this, his smile fades which is surely followed  by the desperate question "WHAT? why? what happened to me? i dont get it man" as if on cue. He is looking me in the eyes, his pupils traitorously pleading for me to explain. "When you turned the corner there was a tribute waiting with an axe, he heard you running clumsily through the forest, heavy on your feet and he killed you. You lose." 

At this Bailey begins to whine like a little kid that has been denied pudding or Christmas. A worried expression works like a tsunami taking over his face, an emotion he cannot suppress or hide from me. I am like him, i am a predator just a much more sly one. He takes a moment in silence before saying with caution "i wont let that happen Cato, i wont run to the sound. i will climb a nearby tree and see if i can identify the location of the sound. i would get to high ground and find myself some dinner so i dont die from malnutrition or dehydration. When im in the games i will be careful bro, i will be crowned victor, you'll see" his tone leaks so much hope it makes me want to throw up. He isnt thinking tactically or about the consequences but i dont want to get into this right now, its twenty five past six in the morning i just want to finish my run and go home for some luke warm and slightly green coloured unsweetened porridge to fill my belly and head off to the training centre ...where i have to face him again. He isn't a bad person i understand that but he is the enemy, they all are. I cant afford to genuinely care  for people especially when the feeling may not be mutual. These people only care about themselves. I look at Bailey carefully and see his brows knitted together "whatever man" i tell him "i know you will be, i believe you just dont run into me again okay?" he nods in agreement "i gotta finish my run, see you later" i tell him and set back off on track praying i will be lucky enough to get lost in my own delusions and sure enough a swarm of fantasy surrounds me. 

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I arrive at the training center promptly where everyone is instructed mundanely to wait in the gymnasium. Somehow this does not feel like a mundane situation.  But nonetheless we all wait like good little angels just as expected, after all we would all hate to end up on the wrong side of Dwayne. As if she can read my mind the scrawny girl next to pipes up "i heard one time a few years back this kid disobeyed Dwayne one too many times and ended up getting kicked out of the training program and his parents felt so ashamed they disowned their only child but that was only after he was forced to spend a week in solitary. A final attempt to try and straighten him out they said" she purses her lips and nods at me as if shes confirming.  I stand a little taller and turn away from her as i draw a breath in through my nose. After five more long minutes of waiting the large steel doors are finally opened and like tourists we pour in with no order, just sheer curiosity. 

Dwayne stands arm folded and feet shoulder width apart ten metres from the entrance, two large guys on either side of him. There are  piles of large wooden boxes stacked in various rows of different sizes dotted all around the room. After a closer look i notice a fraction of the boxes are actually hay bales. I pan around the crowd to see dozens of squinting eyes making the same realizations as my previous discovery, some actually slightly gawp at the sight. Dwayne's husky voice springs to life grabbing our attention "this is a simulation, you have exactly  one hour to go away and find whatever you think you'll need for this challenge and pack it in a backpack. You will then return back here and the simulation will begin. nobody will leave this room for forty eight hours once it begins. Unless you die and then you will be discreetly escorted off and return once the simulation is over. The purpose of this is to prepare you for the games should you be lucky enough to be selected in the future"

 Another pan around the room and i see mixed reactions; peoples faces begin to read excitement, terror, nausea, panic, vexed and they all swirl together to make one big mixture of insignificant- they do not care about us i remind myself. And then i see her. Clove. Her face is challenging to read as if she has secret hidden thoughts of  her own buried deep like mine, like she is always aware of others and never letting her guard down. Suddenly he head snaps out of its temporary paralysis of listening to the others talk and winds in my direction far too quickly for me to react and look away. I stand dazed and panicked like a fool who forgot his own rule of never letting his guard down but before i can figure out a way to react i hear it cutting what feels like the longest second of my life clean in half "your hour starts now" 

The room transforms  immediately into a bunch of headless chickens running aimlessly around and clamming around the exit. one hour. sixty minutes. lets do this.