ODDS

impressions

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓯𝓸𝓻 our training evaluation was a stressful one. It wasn't the fact that we would be performing in front of a bunch of Capitol officials. It had nothing to do with the fact that a great score could earn myself sponsors, or that a lower score could be detrimental to my survival in the games. I wasn't even worried about what I was going to do when I got in there.

What really made me anxious was sitting in the waiting area with every other tribute. My stomach soured at the thought of half of these kids being gone, dead in the next few days. Who would kill who? Would I kill any of these people? Could I, if I absolutely had to? I had no idea. I didn't know if I really wanted to know.

Sander was called before me. The robotic voice came over the intercom, and he stood up, sending me a wink and a reassuring nod. I grinned up at him, rolling my eyes as he ruffled my hair. I lightly pushed him away and he chuckled under his breath. He was gone before I could wish him good luck.

I sat there without worrying about Opal, due to the fact that she had been the second name called. I had decided to act like she controlled me until come arena time. Then the real fun would begin. Zane had told me that it was a great idea, explaining that had been how he'd won his games. Mags seemed to disagree, but admitted it was better to keep on the down low until it was absolutely necessary to come out as stronger than they had originally thought.

Finnick didn't say a word.

Before I could continue in my thoughts, my name was called, which meant that it was my turn to perform for the Game Makers like a monkey in a circus. I realized that I would be doing this alone, and my stomach knotted up instantly. I took a deep breath and made my way towards the door. It opened as soon as I walked up to it, and I slowly made my way into the next room.

I was surprised to see the area look so neat and orderly. Perhaps someone had cleaned it before each new tribute came in. I noticed a few missing weapons, probably broken by a tribute or two. It didn't matter. As long as I got my hands on a few kukris, I would be fine.

With my posture straight, shoulders back, and head held high, I walked in front of the audience of Capitol Game Makers. The Head Game Maker, and old man who went by the name of Apollo Hemingway, stood, making himself taller than his peers. His lips were thin, with orange skin and dull blonde hair, he looked like a nightmare. He seemed to find me amusing, or maybe his face was pulled up that way surgically. Whatever the case, his stare made me uncomfortable, as he looked me up and down as if I were a piece of meat.

I took a breath, closing my eyes and gaining my wits.

And I played the game.

"Alana Knight. District Four." I flashed a cocky grin, flipping the hair of my pony tail over my shoulder. I swiveled on the tips of my toes and bounced over to the kukris, grabbing two of them and throwing three more over the belt that had been provided. I turned, facing the dummies that stood dilapidated at various distances.

I had one chance to prove to them that I could do this. I could win.

I surged forward, my left arm swinging the kukri forward in order to maim the first dummy. A slash, then two. The stomach looked destroyed, so I aimed for the head, knocking it completely off.

One down.

I spun around, the kukri in my right hand catching another dummy in the neck. It fell over in a heaping mess on the floor, and I moved on.

It went like this for at least a solid ten minutes before I landed from a front flip onto the tips of my feet. My ponytail fell into my face, then flung back as I blew it from my face. I stood, actually proud of myself, despite being completely out of breath. I held it in.