The Future Mockingjay🕊️

Chapter Eleven

▫️Willow ▫️

"Today, we examine our opponents." Thyme suggests, spreading his arm to indicate he was talking about the tributes.

"Okay. Good idea." Perla agrees.

I glance at Mark, but he was looking at me as if for confirmation. "Yes, so we know who is the greater enemy." Mark nods.

I held a spear in my hand, feeling the weight of it, and observed one of the tributes in front of me. She was around 14, with curly black hair that fell in locks around her heart-shaped face. She was shaking like a leaf, holding a spear in one hand and throwing it, but it lands before the target.

I turn my head to where Mark stood beside me, watching another tribute. A muscular one. He gives a loud roar and throws a big ball that hit some sacks, scattering it. A good competitor, I guess. I imagine myself in mercy of him, and shudder violently.

I felt Mark's arm wrapping around my waist, turning me towards a girl, who was my age. I realised I don't even know how old Mark is, so I ask him.

"How old are you, Mark?"

He diverts his attention from the girl to me. "14. My birthday is in a few months. I don't know if I'll even be home to be able to celebrate it." He smiles sadly.

I hug him. "My birthday is in a few days." I calculated for a moment, and release a gasp into his chest. "It's the day we go into the arena"

He hugs me tightly. "We gotta think of a brilliant plan to survive this."

I have nothing to say, so I don't. Until a commotion at the knife area got my attention.

"What's happening?" I asked Mark as he moves closer to it. As we reach closer and closer, I see that a fight was going on between the muscular boy we saw earlier and another boy who was even more muscular. I sucked in a breath. This was against the rules.

I look around for people to restrain them from hurting each other, and spot a few not far away and coming with practiced speed.

I turn towards the fighting tributes once again and saw that one of them has a bloody nose. The people took them apart, and they were sent somewhere else. Probably to a nurse to check if they had any broken bones. Or nose.

I heaved a sigh of relief, and lift up my wrist to check my watch for time. It was lunch time. I leave the Training Room for the Dining Room and chose a place to sit. Mark was by my side every moment, and sat beside me. Thyme was opposite me, and of course, Perla was with him.

Everything was going normal, until Mark was called to the Training Room. His eyebrows knitted in worry and confusion, and I reluctantly let go of his hand. Why was he called there?

I ate my food in silence, mind in a whirlwind filled with questions about it. In about 30 minutes, he came back.

It was a private training session with the Game Masters.