The Hunger Games: Foxface

Chapter Eight

I wake up a bit groggy. Right, the Games. Training. Fantastic. I slowly get up and look out the window. It’s changed from Phoebe’s grave to a regular window. It’s dawn and the city looks beautiful. Phoebe would have loved this. Maybe she saw the same thing as I am. I rise and turn on the shower hoping the cool water will make me alert and ready for training. My hands fly around the controls, getting the perfect blend of warm water with pulsing jets of hot. With another wave of my hand, my hair becomes lavished in a wonderful moisturizer, and it rinses out quickly. I step out of the shower and feel the familiar whoosh of the fan. My entire body is dry and my red hair gracefully comes down my back.

After my shower, I find clothes waiting for me. Skin tight pants and shirt, obvious for keeping you dry from sweat, though I doubt I’ll be sweating much. I pull my hair into a high ponytail and leave my room heading toward the table for breakfast. My breakfast awaits me: piles of french toast, bacon, eggs, cereal, sugary treats best not eaten, and plenty of fruit. I grab an apple and sit out on the balcony. I have to be careful not to eat a lot, or else I’ll become too hungry in the Arena, and hunger is something I don’t want on my mind at that time.

Sean joins me on the balcony. By the looks of it, he didn’t get any sleep last night.

“You look horrible,” I say. No point of sugar-coating it. He does. His hair is ruffled, his face is pale and has gigantic bags under his eyes. Even his hands are shaking as he bites into his toast.

“Thanks, I guess. God I can’t stop moving!” His eyes are darting all around. He reminds me of myself, right when I’m ready to run. Oh, I really hope I don’t look that frantic when I’m on edge.

“It’s probably nerves. Look, I’m sure you’ll do fine today. What are your strengths?” I say, trying to comfort him, but I’m obviously failing.

“Talents? Strengths? You mean the ones that can save my life? Those talents? I don’t have any. I may look athletic, but I’m not. I’ve never held any weapons, and I’d only be useful if they give me some hydro-electric equipment. If not, then I’m dead.”

This is going to be way harder than I thought. Convincing Sean that he has a chance will be very difficult.

“Well since you’ve never held a weapon, I guess the training room will be the perfect start.”

“So I can look like a fool in front of everyone? I don’t think so.”

“At least you won’t be an immediate target,” I reply trying to act like this is no big deal.”

“You are impossible,” Sean’s getting really mad now. “Why do you seem so, I don’t know, excited for this?” Sean asks me. It’s a good question. How am I in a good mood? I’m going to die for the love of God.

“Um, I guess I’ve accepted the fact that I’m going to die. And I’m fine with it.” I say, calmly.

“No your not! You are smart and fast! You have the sharpest hearing and vision I have ever seen. You’ll survive. I’m the one who will die! I’m the one who should be accepting my destiny or what ever you want to call it! I don’t want to die! I want to live! How do you not have an ounce of survival instinct in you?” He starts to storm out. I have to tell him about Katniss and the Rebellion. I have to. I don’t want him to die still mad at me. I wouldn’t be able to live with that. Well, you won’t have to Autumn. You’ll be dead. Okay, but still. I can’t let him go into the Arena mad at me. I run after him.

“Sean! Sean wait! Come to the roof with me!” He slowly turns and follows me up.

I’m just near the door, but decide the library will take too much explanation. I go up the stairs all the way to the roof. It really is beautiful up here. I shake my head to keep focused.