The Hunger Games: Never Safe From Danger

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Frinn’s POV

I’m sat on the sofa in a ridiculously over-decorated room in District Nine’s Justice Building. Seriously, it looks like some fashion-obsessed kids from the Capitol came earlier with boxes of pretty pink stuff and exploded them. Still, I’m going to take this in my stride. If I let a fluffy, pink carpet get to me then how will I survive five minutes in the Games?

The answer is: I won’t. I laugh out loud. It’s funny, really- I am a thirteen year old boy getting sent to an arena to fight huge teenagers to the death. I don’t stand a chance! Ha!

Wait a second…I don’t have a chance. Suddenly, I feel so alone. How could I laugh at that? I’m an idiot. A total idiot. And now I’m isolated in this room of pink lace and silk, and I’ll be dead within the month. All because Ryda picked me as male tribute.

It’s my fault, really; the first rule of school is that nobody, and I mean NOBODY, annoys Ryda Meller. And what did I do? Go and annoy Ryda Meller. Yeah.

She’s a year older than me and is incredibly popular. Problem is, she’s also built like a tank and I’ll be her first target in the arena.

It all started one morning in May. My family was getting really poor, so I had no shoes to go to school in. She just didn’t get that not everyone has as much money as her.

I could feel sympathetic eyes burning into my back as Ryda marched up to me.

“Poor little Frinny not have enough money to live?” she said, fake pouting. I tried to ignore the remark and step around her, but she blocked my way. “I’m right, am I not?” she said. I realised at this point that I’d have to hold out against her instead of run, because I couldn’t escape. She grabbed my shoulder and held me against the wall. I decided I’d better speak. I looked directly into her evil snake-eyes and said, “Yes. You are. Please can I go now?”

“What’s the matter, Frinn? Scared of a girl?” someone shouted, and people laughed.

I was scared of this girl (and still am), and I had good reason. I made one final mad attempt at freedom, but she blocked me. “Where ya going?” she asked.

“Nowhere,” I sighed. 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t expect your little brain to be capable of holding complicated information such as directions around the school,” she said patronisingly, which got a laugh from some of the gathering crowd.

“That’s not true,” I mumbled.

“Speak up, or you’ll never amount to anything in life. Whoops, too late. You’re doomed, Frinn Keyden. You and your stupid sister haven’t got a chance. I’ll be surprised if you last the Winter!” she said, smirking.

And that hurt me, but mostly it made me angry, so I just let my emotions take control of me. “Shut up! Just because you’re an insensitive, arrogant idiot who has no idea what kind of thing the rest of us go through every day, do you really need to voice it? I wish you’d just leave District Nine forever, or something! As long as I never have to see you again, I’m okay!” I had yelled.

And then I punched her.

Of course, it had no effect (I told you that girl was built like a tank) but the gesture was enough, and since then we have been deadly enemies.

So yeah, she got reaped and picked me to come to the arena with her. I think she sees this Quarter Quell as a bonus instead of a cruel twist, which makes me feel pretty angry. I know I’m going to die in the arena incredibly quickly, so all I can do is hope that it won’t be at her hands.

When your death’s inevitable, you can’t help but wonder how it will happen…

A whole load of times, the Gamemakers have released muttations to spice things up a little. I believe it was the seventy-somethingth when they used the DNA of dead tributes to create huge, wolf-like creatures. Which begs the question- did they still know who they were? Or was the resemblance only skin-deep? I guess I’ll find out if they do it again.

And of course, I’ll have careers to think about. Careers are tributes who have trained their entire lives to participate in the games, typically from districts one, two and four. They tend to form packs and hunt down other tributes before eventually turning in on each other.

And then there will be the tricks of the arena- one time, I think it was a Quarter Quell, they had this absolutely gorgeous arena. Problem was, everything was poisonous. And there was this other time, also a Quarter Quell, where there were different sections, and every time it was a certain time, something terrible would be released onto the appropriate section.

I remember in school one of the teachers told us about a particularly unfair year where the arena was flooded and the strongest swimmer won.

So really, the possibilities are endless.

The door opens and my big sister, Alline, comes through. I have forgotten about the goodbyes, but now, as she enters the room, I seem to magically recall.

“Be brave in there,” she tells me. Then I’m crying. Standard stuff for the last time you’ll ever see the most important person in the world to you. We lock into a hug for the rest of the time. We don’t need to say anything. There’s just nothing that needs to be said.

After Alline, it’s my mother and grandfather. My grandfather stands there as if he has seen a ghost, his features drained of all blood. My mother, on the other hand, runs over to me immediately. She’s not  Alline; she’ll want to talk. I brace myself for the most heartbreaking fifteen minutes of my life.