The Fourth Olympics

F I V E \\ My District Partner is a Psychopath, Oh Wait, That's Obvious

J A C K

I was awoken to the screaming of my dysfunctional district partner, Sierra Casio. She must be attacking our escort again, trying to slice him in half and eat him. According to her, he looked like a watermelon. Don't get me wrong, yes, Wyatt Packarbell was as round as a watermelon, and with his green and red clothing theme, he could be one too. But trying to disembowl him and eat his intestines is a little too far.

I really should introduce myself, but right now I'm too busy cursing Sierra with every fiber of my being. Once I had composed myself, I climbed out of bed and headed for the shower.

Okay, let's start from the beginning because I am not your ordinary sixteen year old genius from District Three. Of course, sixteen year old geniuses shouldn't be normal, but in our circumstances everyone is too intelligent for their own good. Take Sierra as an example, I heard she was so deep into her studies on neuro transmission that she conducted an illegal experiment which drove her to insanity.

But of course, that's a rumor.

My name is Jack Erdmann, and I have been deemed the most youngest intelligent mind in the District. Too bad that's going to waste because I knew over the first three games, everyone found District Three as a threat now. We might as well walk around with targets on our backs because we were always being hunted down or forced into an alliance depending on the fact that we help the alliance members and don't get killed.

We have a total of four Victors after the Hunger Games were reinstated. Yes, we took all the glory from the Career districts. Brain really does rule over brawn. The remaining five belong to a female from District Seven, a male from District Ten, and the rest being two males and a female from from District Two. Our mentor was Emmett Myers, a fidgety twenty year old who had won the first reinstated games at the age of Seventeen.

Despite his quite annoying fidgeting and tendency to talk to himself, Emmett was very helpful when it actually came down to mentoring us. Or me. You can't really tell with Sierra, one minute she'll be silently writing something down, next thing you know she's trying to eat the television. I'm kind of hoping she'll die first.

Next thing, in District Three, everyone has their own pity story. No, most of us are not poor, homeless, an oprhan, etc. Not stuff you'd find in other districts. In our district, our pity stories are usually unique. And for some reason, most of them involve a lab incident.  I don't know why that's so common, we work on technology, not robot killing machines.

Of course there are rumors that someone in the district is creating a robot army.

But in District Three, you really can't be sure what's true and what's not.

I'm not too eager to share my story right now, right now, I just want to enjoy my freedom. Well, try and enjoy my freedom. For fuck's sake, would she shut the hell up for a few seconds so I can think? Over the loud screaming I heard someone pounding on my door, yelling for help. Probably Wyatt, and because the screaming was getting louder, Sierra was here too.

Okay, see, the only thing that keeps Sierra calm, is when our escort is knocked out, or when I'm around. I don't know why, but ever since the Reapings, she's been clinging to me like her life depends on it. Probably will in a week anyway. So, to get Sierra to stop chasing Wyatt with a knife she got from who knows where, she needs to see me.

Too bad I'm taking a shower as of now.

I quickly washed off and wrapped a towel around my legs before I put on my glasses and opened the door slightly to get a glance of what was going on. Wyatt was bouncing around the bedroom area in the train like a mad man while Sierra continuously tried to pounce on him with a pocket knife. I sighed and whistled to get Sierra's attention.