Hope In Our Eyes #GoldStarAwards2017Winner

A Spark of Determination (Hazel)

The tires of our car soon slow down and stop at the curve of a train station. As I walk into the place, I am amazed by the ginormous size of the building. The entire population of District Twelve can fit into here with still a little extra space. Of course, my district is still the poorest and least dense of all districts, which is no surprise since people keep starving to death because of the few materials and goods they own.

Lavender interrupts my little sightseeing by exclaiming, "Once we board the train, you can do whatever you want until-"

At this I cut in, "Do whatever I want? Like, jump out a window to escape this hell?"

Alexander, who I've forgot was there in the beginning cause he's been so quiet, sharply elbows me in the ribs. I scowl at him, and then meet Lavender's frown. Why's everyone treating me this way? I'm gonna be dying in like, two weeks from now, so these Capitol people like Lavender won't have to see my behavior again. Also, cut me some slack. How would you feel about the people escorting you off to your death?

After a few moments of awkward silence, Lavender exclaims, "Oh look, it's time to board!" and giggles in a her high pitched voice thick with a Capitol accent. She straightens her wig and dress, and we step inside the train.

What I see is even more spectacular than the train station. The white walls are clean with a fresh layer of paint, there are carefully carved wooden furniture everywhere, and a beautiful, soft velvet red rug lies right under my feet. I can even feel the train tracks rumbling if I stand in a specific area long enough and pay close attention. In front of me is a magnificent hallway leading to two rooms.

"Do anything you like. Just show up at dinner on time." Lavender exclaims, sipping on a yellowish drink that I don't want to know what it is.

"Wait, who's our mentor?" Alexander demands.

Good question. District Twelve hasn't had one single victor over the course of thirty-six Hunger Games. 

"You will receive mentoring from one of our trainers, Diamond Belcourt." Our escort answers. 

An unfamiliar female voice calls, "Someone said my name?" A golden haired woman with sharp green eyes enters the room from the hallway. She's young, about twenty-seven years old at most, and she seems to be from a richer district like District One because she looks energetic and fully fed. Plus, her blond hair and green eyes are a dead giveaway.

"Hello, Diamond." Lavender trills. "These are our tributes this year, Alexander Atwood, and Hazel Slivers." She purses her lips as she says my name.

Diamond examines us from head to toe, checking out our strong and weak features, when I snap, "Just get a paper and draw a picture, won't ya?" As soon as I say that, I wince. Being sassy and sarcastic to your mentor may as well get you killed.

However, Diamond smirks in amusement. "I think I will. District Seven has been very generous these months."

"Well, how about we settle ourselves and have dinner?" Lavender trills.

Dinner? Is it really that late? I glance out a window and sure enough, the sun is setting. 

Soon, I'm sitting at a huge wooden table stuffing my face with stuffed mushrooms, buttery potatoes, a turkey drumstick, all the food that I can't get back at our orphan shelter. This stuff is so good, I keep eating more even though I find myself full.

Diamond, who is sitting across from me, asks, "So what are your strong points? Strength? Weapons? Agility?"

"Well, I can identify plants, and I can climb." Alexander, who's beside me, says.

Diamond doesn't look that impressed although she nods. No doubt, people from richer districts know a lot about fighting and weaponry, but they don't see nature as a great deal. However, a death from a poisonous leaf can do as much harm as a death from a sword in your stomach.

When our mentor turns to me, I answer, "I'm okay with knives, and I'm can run pretty fast."

"Okay, can you throw this around the pink area of this curtain?" She asks, handing me a small butter knife.

Diamond must think that all people from poor districts are horrible with weapons. That pink area on the white curtain is so easy to reach. I aim and hurl the knife with so much energy, the blade pierces the curtain. 

"That's nice." 

With that, we're soon watching recaps of all the Reapings. A few tributes stand out to me, like a sixteen year old creepy looking girl from District Two who eagerly volunteers like practically every Career from richer districts. What scares and confuses me the most is that she looks almost identical to me. Same black hair and gray eyes. Only her eyes are darker and her hair lighter. Then, another Career tribute catches my eye. Another girl from District Four who's older than me, with sea green eyes and dark hair. There's also a girl representing District Eight who looks so traumatized when she gets chosen. I feel sorry for her, but again, I need to try and survive these games myself. After that, I see a tiny girl who's the same as me-twelve years old-from District Eleven. But when the escort reaps the boys, what intrigues me the most is how fast a guy volunteers. Volunteering almost never happens among Districts Five to Twelve. He must be the little girl's brother, for they share the same hair and face features. 

Finally, the screen shows me getting chosen for the Games. I cringe on how timid I look. Usually, tributes like the Careers will kill the weak looking people first in the bloodbath on the first day. I have to look tougher to survive longer in the arena. 

Diamond must have been thinking the same thing, for she snaps, "You will have to be stronger than that to win. Be sure to work hard during training so what you looked like at the reaping will brush right past the tributes." She doesn't exactly look angry, but more like ... determined and thoughtful.

I frown and head down the hallway to a luxurious room. There, I take the hot shower that I would have never received back at District Twelve, and collapse on a ginormous bed, toying with the bracelet Poppy gave me. 

Right now, I have no idea how I will win the Hunger Games. The District Two girl keeps coming back to my mind. She must be able to kill an unsuspecting person with one flick of her wrist, or maybe even just slaughter you with her icy stare. 

Anyway, I am going to die, one way or another. But when I look at my bracelet, I think of Poppy and the other people back at home. I also think of how unfair the games are. How would President Snow act if he gets thrown into an arena with twenty-three other people who will kill him?

Suddenly, a spark of determination fills inside me. I am going to win this Hunger Games. I will show the Capitol that I am not just a piece in their Games. 

I just need to figure out how.