The 25th Annual Hunger Games

Interviews (Challenge Five)

I woke up and was immediately aware it was my last day of guaranteed life. I would probably last a couple of days in the arena, but it wasn’t a sure thing. I wouldn’t have a bed, or food, or anything other than my allies and my miniscule skills.

I lazily went through my morning despite that. It was registered in my mind but it didn’t seem real enough. Mainly, I spent my morning alternating between snacking and reflecting on those simple facts that were more of a dream. It wasn’t even that they didn’t feel real, it was that they couldn’t be normal in any other situation. I guess I never fully questioned it growing up, since it never affected me. Did everyone from Eight think of this as their last day like I did? Did they think they would make it and just get slaughtered later? How hopeful were they, and was I just ruining their tradition by questioning this entire thing?

The scores were presented, and I actually got a decent score; a seven, which means the Gamemakers think I could make it to the mid-point at least! Everyone else in the alliance got a higher score than me, but that’s to be expected. I just hope it doesn’t put a bigger target on our backs.

I was lounging on the couch, waiting to be told what to do. I certainly don’t know the protocol for my last certain day, but the people who put me here absolutely should. We’d all be at a loss if I was the one in charge.

Rysone and his team suddenly entered, or maybe they had already been there and I just didn’t notice them. I really needed to work on that. I had my instructions at last, though.

“You’ve got sponsors to impress!” Konnel greeted, slinging an arm over my shoulders like we were old friends or something.

“We’ve got the perfect outfit for you! It’s not overly flashy, so you don’t have to worry at all. Plus it still looks good. Let’s get started!” Rysone and his team herded me to the prep room.

What were their impressions of me? We haven’t ever chatted so it can’t be that accurate of an assessment. Did they think I was a nervous wreck who couldn’t do much? Well, then that would be accurate, but still I’m a bit more than that.  What was the perfect outfit for me though?

Konnel guided me with his heavy body onto the odd table-bed again.

“So, do you wax your chest on your own?” Niavia, blurted out suddenly. She wasn’t embarrassed at all by her invasive question though.

“Ah, no. I just I’m not a manly man and my body reflects that I guess. I don’t grow much hair, to be honest.” I stuttered through my answer. Why hadn’t they asked this earlier? Well, earlier Rysone was the only one to see me change, I think. So how did she know that?

“Less work for us,” Tystim added, he really seemed like the type to never talk.

“I’m in charge of your hair, and let me tell you thank you right now! I barely get to do anything with male tributes, since they keep their hair short. You’re a blessing, really,” Niavia raved as she took my hair out of it’s ponytail. She set the metal piece from Rhys next to me, so I made sure to keep an eye on it.

Konnel grabbed at my hands like he did the first day, but didn’t comment this time. He immediately set to work on making them presentable. Tystim was doing something with a box off in the corner. I heard a rapid snipping from somewhere behind me.

“No!” I instinctively let out. The sound was far enough removed that it wasn’t to my hair, but it seemed to be going in that direction.

“Just a trim, hun,” Niavia’s frown could be heard in her voice. “Just so you can see later in the arena without having to do something with your bangs, and just to get rid of split ends.”