Voices of the Dead: A Hunger Games FanFiction ©

4. Smalls

I fidgeted nervously in my seat as I saw tribute after tribute go and interview with Ceasar Flickerman. My mentors had for the most part focused their attentions on my district partner; Paisley. It didn’t bother me at the moment, but now, I was regretting not having paid more attention.

Both District One and Two had really gotten the crowd going; there had been cheers, applause, swoons, and in general, adoration. Few lived up to their popularity. I knew I wouldn’t be the exception.

“And now for the young boy from District eight, Mipe Smalls! Come up here young lad!” Ceasar beckoned.

I gulped and shook as I made my way up to the stage. As I climbed the stairs I stumbled when my own foot got caught on the hem of my pants. My stylist had not stopped complaining once about how short I was, and how horrible it was that she had to make alterations, and why didn’t I just roll up my pants rather than have her change it, it wasn’t like I was going to win. All in all, a great pep talk…

A round of chuckles rang from the crowd and I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Brushing my hands on my pants, I cleared my throat and continued to the stage where I thankfully sank into the interview chair. My feet dangled as I settled deeper into my seat and I absently swung my legs. “Hello Ceasar,” I said quietly, trying to only look at him and not the frightening crowd.

“Why hello, hello. Welcome Mipe. Aren’t you just the littlest thing I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed, not rudely, but genuinely amazed at my stature.

I shrugged and nodded. “You can call me Smalls, everyone does back home,” I said a little louder, “Yeah, I haven’t quite reached that growth spurt yet I guess.”

I heard a couple of good natured laughs from the crowd at my words. Maybe I could be funny? Naw, it didn’t come naturally.

“No, I guess not. Haha, now tell me Smalls, do you have any strategies planned for these games?” he asked.

“Not dying mostly,” I answered without thinking. Crap! I cursed myself mentally until I heard a familiar noise. Again, I heard the gentle, amused laughter from the crowd.

Ceasar laughed along with them, smiling almost tenderly at me. “Honest eh? I love that!” he reached over and actually patted my head, “Now tell me, what has been the hardest thing you’ve experienced since being here?”

Again the words seemed to slip from my grasp. “I miss my district, my home,” I said quietly, looking down at my shoes, “I miss my friends, they were the only family I had.”

The crowd shook their heads a little sadly, some actually dabbing at their eyes with tissues. Ceasar looked taken aback as well; a little crease forming in between his eyebrows. “How unfortunate, but don’t lose hope Smalls, you never know. We’ve seen jaw-dropping things happen in that arena and maybe, with a bit of luck, you could actually stand a chance,” he tried to say confidently. His voice ended in a questioning tone though, and the lie was apparent even to me.

Still, I appreciated the gesture. I smiled as convincingly as I could and nodded. “Yeah, you never know.”

“Now, before you have to leave, tell us who you think will be the biggest obstacle in your way throughout these games.”

I darted a glance at the Careers. They stared back coldly. “Probably one and two, though I don’t think they’ll be my only obstacle.”

Ceasar nodded, and then sighed theatrically. “Well, I wish you the best of luck in these games. Everyone, a hand for Mipe Smalls!” he said, clapping along with the crowd.

It wasn’t a standing ovation, but it went better than I’d ever expected.

I hadn’t done horribly, not spectacular.

I was in the middle, and I could hopefully live with that.