The Wunder Games-A Hunger Games Fan Fic

The Wunder Games 14

Garren and I don't say much to each other when we get back to the training center. Tomorrow, we will be going our seperate ways. Garren, with the Careers, and I, by myself. Daze and Karine haven't talked to me since the second day of training. But I wouldn't mind teaming up with Hunter and Brit. She seemed pretty nice. 

It seems like I know so many people in the Games. I don't want anyone to die.

I head straight to bed. It will be the last time I sleep on a bed for three weeks. Possibly the last time ever. But no. I WILL win. I HAVE to win. I am GOING to win. For my mother.

Just the thought of seeing Karine's corpse on the grass makes me want to weep for her. Even though she probably hates me to the last whim right now, I want her to win if I die. Or Hunter.

As I shower and slip into some comfortable pajamas, I think about what is to come. How do we get into the arena? What will we do? Will a Capitol hovercraft drop us in some random spot in the arena as a voice announces the games are beginning?

This will be the first Hunger Games. I hope it will be the last.

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In the morning, I don't find my prep team standing over me like they normally are. I don't find any servants there or not even Elaina. My room is empty. Today, I head into the arena.

Tension takes over my body. I have to rush into the bathroom and splash cold water from the tap on my face to keep blood curling screams from tumbling out of my mouth. I sit, curling up in a ball, on a soft cushion chair for a minute, forcing myself to breath deeply. The clock reads 6:00 a.m. Half the Capitol is asleep right now. The other half will be celebrating the start of the Games.

How can they celebrate sending innocent children to their deaths?

There is a soft knock on the door.

"Olivi?" Klea creaks the door open. I'm so glad it's her and not Elaina. 

"Come in," I croak.

"You're up very early," she says, "The hovercraft should arrive at eight. You should get some more sleep. You'll be short for the next three weeks."

"I don't want to sleep," I respond.

"Then eat something," she insists, "Please, Olivi." When this doesn't work, she adds, "For me?" I nod slowly and accept some dried fruit. As I munch, Klea does little things, like remove my nail polish and brush through my hair.

"What's your plan?" she asks me.

"Don't really have one," I reply, "Since I don't really know what I'm facing yet. Do you know anything?"

"They don't even tell the stylists," she sighs, "Suppose they drop you right in the middle of a battle? What would you do then?"

"I'd run," I admit, "Will their be weapons? There will have to be if they train you with them?"

"I know that much," Klea tells me, "There will be all sorts of weapons and probably some supplies...just...about, I guess. Like food and blankets. The strongets will fight for medicine and tents, maybe." I take all this in.

How quickly two hours pass! Soon, Klea is herding me up out to my private balcony to be picked up by the hovercraft.

"Shouldn't I change?" I ask.

"You'll get the chance," she assures me.

Suddenly, a rope ladder drops from the sky. The hovercraft has arrived. I start to say good-bye to Klea but she tells me she'll meet me up there. Then I am hoisted off the terrace and into the air. I come up in a bland room. A woman with a needle awaits me.

"Be still, Olivi," she instructs me, "I have to inject this tracking device into you." And she does. I can see a small bump descending into my arm. It sends a sharp jolt of pain through my body.

Soon enough like she promised, Klea joins me. We are escorted to a room where I can eat breakfast during the hovercraft trip, which will take about fifteen minutes. I don't want to eat much, but Klea convinces me since I am about to starve. I scarf down some sausage and toast.

When the shutters to the windows close, I know we are approaching the arena. Klea and I are led to a landing platfrom. After touching down, Peacekeepers take us to a medium sized room, with chairs, tables, a television, a changing station and a shower. I rip off my pajamas and shower right away. The cubicle fills with thick layers of steam as the hot beads of water pour down my back.

When I step out, Klea blows my hair dry and flat irons it. She sings a funny little song, one I've never heard before, but she smiles as she sings it. I look like the girl from interview night now. That's until she twists my hair into a simple ponytail on the side with three hair ties going down it.

I turn down food but sip on a small cup of water. I refill twice. The outfits for the tributes hang in the changing station. They consist of khaki pants, black knee high boots, a long sleeve maroon shirt, a black vest, and a thin maroon jacket that reflects body heat. 

I am surprised when Klea droops a chain around my neck.

It's the one my aunt give me in District Four with the bulb of sand. 

"I found this among your things," Klea whispers, "Wear it into the arena, my little rebel." Rebel? What is she talking about? "Remember, my dear, wait for the mockingjays to take up my song. Then you will know."

"Tributes," a voice comes out of no where, "Please step on to your platforms." Klea shows me the platform, a silver circle, and I cautiously step on. A sheet of glass instantly snaps around me. I pound on it. Is it a trap?

"Klea, help me!" I scream.

"Relax, Olli," she says, "It's a part of the games. Remember, you will know when the time is right."

"What will I know?" I shriek, but I am lifted off the ground, soaring higher and higher above the floor. "KLEA, HELP ME! GET ME OUT OF HERE!" 

And then I smell the sea.

And then I am running again.