Not Just A Game

Chapter 36

After all the stress of training and interviews this week, coming to the realization that the games start tomorrow really hit me hard.

It's not that I didn't already know, it's just that I've been worrying about a million other issues in this short week that knowing that there's nothing but a few hours of sleep in the way from potential death is terrifying, to say the least.

My stomach feels permanently squeezed and my hands have been shaking non stop since I stepped into the penthouse after interviews.

No matter how much optimism Elsie throws into the void, my anxiety still manages cling to the surface.

My mind is an ocean. No matter how many drops of fresh water you give, the salty tang still overpowers it all.

It's bitter, yes. But you can choose to ride the waves back to shore or let them roll over your head until you drown.

Sadly, none seem like a great option.

So instead of ignoring the constant banging of my blood in my ears, I wander aimlessly around the suite.

Nobody questions my actions because nobody is around to do so. Every gloomy soul on floor twelve trodden silently to their bedroom and locked the door without a word.

I haven't heard sound.

No soft breathing on the other side of the doors. No muffled sniffling as they try to hide their cries in their forgiving pillows. No windows opened, no sheets shifting.

Not a sound.

And that scares me more than sobs ever will.

Knowing that everyone is a heaping mess on the other side of the door makes my heart wilt like the fragile flower that it is, never getting enough sun.

So I just keep pacing slowly around the room. Step by step by step. Never getting anywhere, but just struggling to keep my mind at ease.

I should have known it's not possible to ignore my upcoming fate, but I try. I shouldn't.

I listen to the faint roaring of the city outside the window. They laugh and chant and talk on and on, elated about the start of the Games. The lights are bright outside, casting a yellow glow through the closed curtains.

I try to focus on a single voice, but the crowd below me seems to be one enormous unit, trying to contradict my mood right now.

As if I don't have enough to worry about, the secretive conversation I overheard pops into my mind.

A familiar voice whispering frantically about keeping a tribute alive, but they can't know.

Then their 'plan' can begin. I heard bits and pieces that sounded like another rebellion. The last one ended in the creation of the games, so what changes will this one bring?

I can't stop the war in my head, trying to decide whether this is good, or bad.

Maybe it's both.

Maybe, there can't be change without a little hardship.

Maybe all of this won't matter in a few days.

Maybe I'll be lying with my eyes closed in a a wooden box buried six feet below the grass. None of this will matter. None of it will have purpose in my position. I'll be eternally silent and still, as I fade into the earth, long forgotten in the sea of lost souls, just a memory.

Maybe I'll wait for him- maybe he'll wait for me. Years from now, if I'm gone, he'll come back for me, hold my hand in his the way it used to fit so perfectly.

But in the back of my mind, I get a nagging pull. I let my mind wander, weighing possibilities. What if I live? What if I make it out? What if the rebellion never happens?

I can't help wondering, if all of those whispers, all of those hushed words, kept a secret known by two others, unknown by the secret holders themselves, what if I'm completely wrong?

I can't help wondering, what if it's me?

•••••••••••••••••••••

Author's Note

I'm soooo sorry I haven't updated, but I've been busy juggling school, homework, cheer, and I haven't found time to write. School comes first, so please understand, and I'll try to update as soon as possible, whether that be tomorrow or in a week.

Short chapter, sorry, but please vote if you enjoyed it and it was just a filler.

Comment PLEASE!

I feed off of the little comments I get!

Please point out any grammar or spelling mistakes I have made. I appreciate it.

Xoxo, IronAbbs