I'm still stroking the magnificent bow I hold in my hands. I've never seen one in reality before, most District 12 residents don't particularly carry weapons with them. On occasions when families go camping or for picnics deep into the woods, a male in the family will take a sword or spear with them in case a grizzly bear attacks them, but they are few and far between in these parts. Apart from them and the hunters who supply the butcher with his meat or send their stock on the train to be sold in the other districts for a profit, no one here carries weapons.
"I want to have a go with it", I decide out loud.
"You have to joking", Anise is worried. "You could kill someone with a weapon like that!".
"Do you know how to use it?", Saffron quizzes.
"Not exactly, but I've seen it done on television", I bite back.
"It doesn't mean because you're holding a bow that you're the next Adrian Odair", Linden teases.
Adrian Odair; Panems favourite all-action stuntman, who performs for huge audiences across the Districts and the Capitol on live broadcasts every Tuesday. He was born and grew up in District 4 but apart from this no one really knows anything about him. He has many different titles; 'the greatest bowman of his time', 'the master of the trident', 'action man' and most widely 'god in human form'.
"Adrian Odiar is perfection in every sense of the word!", Anise exclaims. "One day we're going to get married!".
"I think he would have a problem with marriage to a girl who's 13 years his junior, that he's never met", Saffron laughs.
"Anyway, I'm going to try and get this bow to work", I cut across Anise as she's about to retort.
I extract an arrow from the quiver and can't work out how to slot it onto the wire. Saffron sighs and clips the split in the end of the arrow around the wire, shaking her head in mock disbelief at my ignorance. I line the arrow up with the rest of the bow and raise it up, aiming at the wide trunk of an oak tree (I couldn't possibly miss such a wide target). I pull the wire back as far as I can, narrowing my eyes at my target in concentration, which causes my tense body to shake slightly. I can feel it, the bow and me are connected, two parts of one being, two pieces of a puzzle. I release the arrow with confidence and my heart sinks as it clatters to the floor mere metres from my feet.
"Oh", I breathe. "That was harder than I thought it would be".
"Well you can't be great at everything", Linden says.
"I'm not!", I protest. "Name one thing I'm good at!".
"Running, climbing, gymnastics, dancing, singing, drawing, the list could go on", Anise counts them off on her fingers.
"God knows where she gets these talents from", Linden teases.
"Stop it!", I protest, feeling my face reddening. "What's you point?".
"You can't handle the fact you're not good at something!", Anise sticks her tongue out at me.
"Yeah, this whole archery thing, its going to be harder than I thought".
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Hours later, I trek back through the trees alone, clutching the bow to my chest, the quiver strapped across my back. Anise, Linden and Saffron left for home a while ago, shaking their heads and sniggering as my failed attempts at archery began to add up to an astounding amount. I'm hoping that Dad will know how to use a bow, perhaps he had one as a child? There's no point asking Mum, she's too timid to know how to use a deadly weapon.
