The 65th Hunger Games - EDITING

Chapter fourteen

As soon as I step inside the gymnasium, all the game makers and high society members look at me, study me, without stopping their conversations. They stand in small groups of four or five to talk, laugh and eat the feast that was prepared for them. I walk to the weapon rack and violently grab a trident the color of silver. It is really light, probably made from carbon fiber or something similar. The point of each prong is so sharp it could easily go through anything, even bones. Of course, it's exactly why it was made, murder. In front of me, there's a panel full of controls. I haven't used it yet, but I've seen the careers train on it and I know how to make it work. I press a few buttons and a silhouette appears, running towards me. Once it gets into reach, I stab it right in the chest with the end of my weapon. As soon as it dies, another one appears behind me and I kill it as easily as the first one. And so on, they keep appearing and then fading as I impale them with the trident. The last one is faster and looks stronger than the other ones. I throw my weapon right through its head as it explodes in a million of tiny pieces that disappear before touching the ground. A shrill sound lets me know the simulation is over. I look up to the crowd, a drop of sweat running on the side of my face. The game makers look amused by my performance, while the high society members seem to be excited. The head game maker, a cruel smile on his face, dismisses me from a simple hand gesture. I leave without a word, hoping that I was good enough to gain enough sponsors for my team.

***

We're all sitting on the white couch, watching the TV, Viviana, me, our stylists and Ionel. Caesar Flickerman is talking about how excited he is about the games and knowing the personal evaluation's results. I've not seen the boys since before I went in for my evaluation and I'm as eager to know their result as I am to know mine and Viviana's. At exactly eight o'clock, the Capitol's seal appears, shining on the screen. We all straighten up instantly. Caesar's face appears again, a bright smile crossing his face as he starts talking about the results he's about to give and their impact, agitating an envelope in his right hand. We silently listen to every word, waiting for the moment where we'll finally know how good or how bad we did. The first number finally appears alongside the headshot of the boy tribute of district one. He scored a seven, which is really low for a career tribute. Caesar mentions that this may be due to the fact that no one volunteered this year and that the tributes from district one, two and four are pretty young, which most likely means that no one was actually ready to go in the arena and that they may have needed a few more years before volunteering. His theory makes sense and if he's right, that means that we could beat them. He makes sure to remind everyone that training your children for the Games is strictly illegal and can be punishable by death. However, we all know the district one, two and four, my own district does it anyway and that the Capitol never cared about it. The boy's face is quickly replaced with the girl's picture. She scored a nine, which is way better than the boy, but still a point lower than the usual career's score. The boy and the girl from district two also both got a nine. The girl from district three got an eight, probably by throwing spears since I haven't seen her practice another skill while we were training. If the careers have done the exact same thing before her, the evaluators may have been getting bored and gave her a lower score, even if she's as good as them. Adenias' face appears on the screen beside a number, four. Mags look at me, surprised and probably deceived by our choice of ally. I nod and smile, trying to let her know that even if his score is low, he did well; the lowest, the better. Then, his picture is replaced by Viviana's, but the number doesn't change. Ionel gasps loudly, horrified.

"A four! You got a four! Not one of my tributes ever got a score so low! And I thought that finally getting a career district would pay off. I'm going to be the laughing stock of all the Capitol!"

"I've seen worse." replies Mags, finally understanding our strategy.

I see our escort shedding a tear before quickly drying his face with his tissue. I hear him wish a better score for me, but really, he does it for himself. Ionel shrieks as soon as he sees my number. It's an eleven. I have the highest score so far, it's even higher than the careers'. I look at the screen, still amazed by my result. I thought I'd get an eight or a nine, but I never imagined getting a number that high, especially not for just throwing a trident at a hologram and stabbing some pixel-made humans with said weapon. My parents and my brother always said that I made fishing look easy when I was using a trident and that it always seemed like a natural extension of my arms. My best friend used to tease me about it, saying that if I spent as much time chasing girls that I was spending practicing this skill, I'd be married by now. My disinterest towards the girls of my district may have saved my life. I guess they were right. As soon as my face disappears, everyone in the room starts congratulating me, but I stay quiet, still looking at the screen, patiently waiting to see Cedar's result. He got a nine, which is pretty impressive for someone from district seven. My best guess is that he probably threw some axes at mannequins or used the simulation like me. Faces appear and disappear, one after the other. Most of my opponents scored between six and nine. In general, the scores are higher than the previous years, which only means one thing: the careers are not the only ones we're going to have to watch out for. Anthos' results appear on the screen; a three taking the place of the precedent tribute's result. As much as his result doesn't surprises me, I'm wondering why the career's was so low compared to usual; they seemed so strong while they were training. Unless, just like us, they didn't show the extent of their skills which could very much result in a painful death for all of us.