Isolated Together | Panem's Past Hunger Games

Chapter 7

Serena

The size of the crowds on either side are insane.

Of course, I've seen them on television before, but it's so much more overwhelming and so much more intense in person.

The image of these very people placing bets on my friends lives seeps into the crevices of my mind. My stomach lurches.

They will not die.

I rub my left arm, absent mindedly soothing the pain from Reyna grabbing it when I tripped earlier. My fists clench at the prospect that Reyna saved me and not the other way around.

It won't happen again.

And with way Reyna's eyes hollowed out after she helped me, I don't think she's very happy with it herself. She thinks I don't notice the way she's slowly been distancing herself from Sheena and I. I don't know what she's trying to achieve, but odds are it's got something to do with her family. At least, that's what I think. No matter how many times I ask Sheena "what happened", I still don't know anything. Well, I don't know much.

I do know her father died.

Everyone says it was a suicide.

I shudder and push up from the sandy floor of my mind, breaking through the surface and gasping for air. Now is not the time to be contemplating. Now is the time to be strategic.

Even if it means stepping way out of my comfort zone.

I'm trying to embrace the crowd, I really am, but the mere sight of so many people crowded together is transforming the air around me into sulfur.

Get a hold of yourself, Serena. You're not doing this for you. You're doing this for them.

Finally, I look up fully into the cameras and smile. I wave. I repeat and continue, only faltering when we pass Khione - the president - and the anthem spills out of the speakers shining above her in all their glory. I shudder and raise my shaking hand once more to give a few final waves as the chariot plunges into the darkness of the training centre.

As my team mates and I stumble off the chariot (well, I stumble. Reyna ninja jumps off and Esmẽ moves in dance like motions as she steps down after the others) the Prep Team huddles around us like a flock of ducks waiting to be fed. Izzy stands in the middle of them as they gush and shower us with admiration and praise. She merely gives us a tight-lipped smile and a firm nod before scampering away.

Penelope walks over, and I notice with a start that she isn't wearing anything luxurious or colourful. Instead, she is wearing simple casual clothes that don't seem to fit her right. Her make up is smudged and her red hair (now dull) is messy. Her head is low and her eyes look devoid of their usual shine for the dramatics.

I take a step in her direction, but she catches my eye and turns away before I get the chance to initiate a conversation. Something coils in my stomach.

Thomas proceeds to explain the simplicity and perfection of the tower. He explains that each level is for a certain districts' tributes. He mentions that they had to expand the tower for this years games, so that the luxurious life style of the capitol would not be compromised by the number of tributes.

He leads us to the elevator, Penelope trailing behind the group with her head down. We arrive at the extravagant dining table and the just as spectacular feast placed atop it. The night soon fades into laughter, eating, and soon a heavy sleep.

.........................................................................................

The moment the first drop of sunlight seeps through the heavy velvet curtains surrounding me, my eyes open and my thoughts begin to race.

This is really happening.

I really could be dead before the end of the month.

I take a shaky breath rub my temples.

BANG BANG BANG.

A look up at the door.

"Who is it?" I call.

"Training starts in 20 minutes and you haven't even eaten yet! Are you alright? You're not usually one to be late to anything."

Hazel.

"Yeah, sorry. Just had a... bad dream. I'll be out in a sec," I yawn. The nightmares hadn't been as they usually are this time. In stead of the steady, creeping feeling they exude as they evade my attention for the first few hours of the night, they were a crashing, deafening parade marching circles around my head for hours upon hours. Each excruciating minute was an eternity.

Since I don't really feel like eating breakfast, I get changed into the clothes an avox has left for me, presumably chosen by Izzy. Comfortable black pants and a blue shirt made of linen.

I open my lavished door and head out to the elevator, where my friends – my team – are waiting.

Esmẽ looks not only exhausted, but something else as well. Something... dark. I can't tell what it is but it's showing through her posture and facial expression.

I shiver.

Everyone else seems to be ok. As "ok" as you can be in this kind of situation, anyway. Reyna looks withdrawn. Sheena and Jess are arguing over something. Hazel is trying to keep the peace between them.

Once the elaborate elevators have transported us to the training centre, we realise just how little our chances of survival are.

The other teams stand tall and proud. They look strong. They look like they know how to use their strength. If that's the case...

A deadly combination.

I try to stop staring at the massive amount of tributes before me and instead frown at Jess for humming at a time like this. I lurch forward as something brushes against my back and almost lose my balance completely.

Sheena giggles.

"Calm down, they're just pinning your number on," says Esmẽ, rolling her eyes. I glare at her and look at Jess and Sheena for support. Sheena just tries to contain her laughter and Jess pauses to think for a second.

"Uh... Esmẽ, keep rolling you eyes, and um... maybe you'll find a brain back there!" Jess stammered. We all give her a look before laughing at how terrible her attempts at "roasting" are.

We begin the training activities as a group, too nervous to separate but too proud to admit it. The excitement level is mediocre. It's nothing like I imagined it would be.

There's no thirst for blood seething out of the air the careers breathe. Instead there's a blunt determination surrounding them. Their eyes are blinking, their hearts are beating, their lungs are breathing with and for the sole purpose of victory. The tenacity in their minds is the same that I glimpse in Reyna sometimes.

It scares me that one of us – one of our team – could be closer to the mentality of a career than we could ever imagine.

I'm so deep in my thoughts that my reaction isn't immediate when I hear Esmẽ shouting profanities at something. Or someone.

I turn around to see her punch this guy I've never seen before and continue to scream at him.

I jog over to them and intercept the next blow of Esmẽ's, wincing as she hits me instead.

"Woah woah woah calm down, what the hell is going on?!" I exclaim as Esmẽ backs away and glares at the person I've defended.

"I was just practicing my archery – AND doing very well – when this sorry excuse for a gamemaker decides to come and just TAKE the bow out of my hands like he owns it?!" Esmẽ hisses.

I stare at the guy behind me. He spins the bow around his finger and looks away.

Who does this guy think he is?