The Hanging Tree

Before: Learning to Survive

Extravagance. 

This is what hits me more than anything. Everything surrounding us is simply the finest, even by Capitol standards. 

Apparently it's not always like this. While tributes have always been treated with a level of respect and fascination and been provided for, this year is different since it's a "Quarter Quell".  

I'm starting to get really sick of that term. 

Nothing but the best food. Nothing but the best quarters. Nothing but the best instructors from the best Games. 

"You're special," everyone says to us. "You were chosen to be here."

As if I could ever forget.

But the one thing I have trouble getting used to more than anything else is all the people surrounding us whenever we step outside our quarters. There are fans and reporters who poke and prod and stare at us every waking moment. It gives me the strangest feeling that we are cattle. 

The 1st Quarter Quell. It's going to be a Games no one is ever going to forget. Or at least, that's what the Capitol keeps saying. 

I'm too afraid they might be right. 

*** 

"So if you just pull it up like then the person will be trapped."

"Uh-huh." My fingers are working the snare even if my mind isn't.

Out of all of the tributes in the training center, I am the only one always alone. Most of the others are either with their district partner or are already forming alliances with the other tributes. 

But I don't want to. I don't want to know any of their faces or names when they're all going to die. 

Not even the boy from District 4 called Danila who is the youngest of us all. 

But that's not what's making my mind wander right now. What is are those throwing knives over there, the ones that shimmer with the light and end with the sharpest points. I have seen a few tributes go over there and try their hand at it but none have accuracy or skill. None were meant to hold them. 

None except me. 

So far, I have spent all of my time in training learning different snare ties or survival skills - not that I really need to learn how to survive, I am from District 12 after all. I haven't gone near any weapons. I keep telling myself that I can survive on these snares, that maybe I can just set up traps in the arena and if other tributes get caught in them and die, well, it isn't my problem. But I also know that's bullshit and that if I want to survive, I need to learn how to use those knives. 

Even if a knife in my hand would destroy me. 

My thoughts are interrupted by lunch being served. Most of the kids rush immediately to it, gorging themselves on the food they'd never had in life. I hang back. I may not have that many ways to look tough but I can in this. Plus I know from experience that eating too much after having so little will just come right back up. 

And I'm right. 

But my little act of strength doesn't impress the Careers. 

"Hey 12," says District 1's tribute; a boy I've heard the others call Flicker. "Be careful around that food. Wouldn't want you to trip up and ruin it for the rest of us."

The other Careers snicker. All, that is, except Killian who doesn't do anything at all. Come to think of it, he doesn't really do anything ever, so unlike the enthusiastic boy he was when he was reaped. He barely speaks and when he does it's in two word sentences. I've rarely seen him work with any of the instructors. The only thing he ever does seem to do is stare at the world like he's trying to piece it all together. Like he's doing to me right now.