Not Just A Game

Chapter 21

I wake with a banana peel in one hand and the other hanging halfway off the mattress of my soft bed. It's a shame I have to leave it today.

My hands get clammy and start to shake. Today I go into the arena, and may never come out.

My eyes well up with tears that cloud my vision, and I fall back onto the bed, just to cry for ten minutes.

I never want to get up from this spot. If I do, I know that I'll never see my family again. All I have left of them is my locket sitting on my nightstand, with their photographs concealed safely inside.

I remember the smiling picture of Belle, staring up at the clouds in the meadow, as if completely unaware of the person snapping a memory of her.

Then there's the picture of Willow. She stands outside our small cottage that we call home. She wears a plain brown skirt and a white blouse, her first reaping outfit. Her last reaping outfit.

Then in the third space sits a picture of my parents. The photo was taken at their wedding, hence my mother wearing her best dress, and my father in his suit. It shows them holding hands, jumping over the broom- an old tradition since we can't have real weddings in District Twelve.

I notice that my tears have stopped. The pictures comfort me in a way that no person could. It reminds me of home.

It just tears my heart into pieces to know that I probably won't see them again. I just wish I wouldn't think like that.

I want to get up. If I don't now, I won't for a long time, then everyone will come looking for me. I know that I can't lie down in this bed, and the Hunger Games will just roll by. So with one last grunt of effort, I pull the covers back, and roll out of bed.

My feet tingle when they brush the floor. It's cold and unwelcoming, but I know it's just me trying to trick myself into sequestering myself back into the comfort of my warm, safe bed.

I shift my weight onto my feet, softly and slowly so I can absorb the last bits of sleep left in me. Once I'm standing, I look at the clock. It reads 7:14 AM in bright red lights.

Now that I listen, I hear nothing coming from outside my door. Nobody is up yet, so I have some time. I take a quick shower, and brush my teeth- something I never had the luxury of doing back home in District 12.

I then dress in the outfit laid out on a hanger on the doorknob.

I'm dressed in a maroon t-shirt. Nothing special about it, but I assume that each district has a different color. I've seen it in the past. I am pleased that we didn't get a color too bright and noticeable.

The pants are flexible black fabric. It's very unlike the other games where you see the tributes dressed in baggy cargo pants. They're tight, but allow a wide range of movement. Almost like the yoga pants I've sported the last few weeks.

I also wear a thin black jacket with a variety of pocket I the inside. Probably for stashing weapons. It'll be perfect if I can get my hands on some knives. The jacket is warm, but doesn't seem like it's meant for a freezing climate. At least I know I won't die from cold weather.

Lastly, I put on a pair of shoes that are made of rubber soles and mesh. It must be because there's water in the arena. The shoes don't go past my ankle because of their low height.

I try to pieces some things together. The pants hint at the need for high mobility, so maybe a lot of climbing or swimming. A mountain range or beach would make sense.

The jacket shows that the arena will be chilly, but not cold. I may not need it at all. Maybe it's more for covering up my tshirt, so the other tributes can't see the color on it from a distance. That may be an advantage the Capitol gives the tributes.