Ivory convinced me to take a sleeping pill the night before the arena. After what she had called my “temper tantrum” my body was already exhausted, but my mind was still spinning in a million different directions. It seemed I was never able to stop strategizing along every step of the way. So I may not have won my ideal sponsor over with my apparently subpar performance. Perhaps someone else was looking out for me? I knew I’d be able to make it for a while without a sponsor but in those final few days having an outlet from the Capitol could mean the difference between life and death. I could act weak- people might not see it coming from someone who only scored an Eight. But I was a Career…
She handed me the pill and I swallowed it dry, not wanting to waste any precious sleep time to go get a glass of water. It worked fast, and I barely had time to change into sleep clothes before I passed out.
The next thing I knew, I was waking to beams of sunlight hitting my face through my uncovered window. I figured I must have forgotten to close the blinds the night before and sat up, feeling well rested but apprehensive. The clock to my left told me it was about 6 in the morning, giving me about six hours left before Ivory and Indica shuffled us to the hovercrafts.
I started off by giving myself as much of a head start as I could- showering as thoroughly as I could, knowing I would probably not have the opportunity in the near future, and eating a thorough, protein-filled breakfast of eggs and bacon and sausage. I’d always been skinny and muscular, but suddenly I realized I could pinch a small layer of fat around my side. Curiously, I looked in the mirror, realizing my face looked fuller. The heavy Capitol food must have been more caloric than I thought. And I had been so careful about what I ate.
I spent a couple of hours curled up on the sofa, watching reruns of old games. The strategies used by some of the tributes were simply brilliant, and I stored several ideas away at the back of my mind. I watched Izara win her first games, vicious and brutal. This was a leg up on the bitch, I supposed. I was familiar to her fighting style, but she just saw me as the brat from One. I smirked and flipped the channel, just in time to watch Liucija finish up with her games, only two years ago.
We were going to be friends in the Victor’s Lounge, I decided.
Eventually the rest of my team slowly emerged from their rooms and began the hectic shuffle to begin the day. Peter seemed to have given up all of the fire I had seen in him on the train, and I realized he was most likely going to die today. He just didn’t care anymore. Soon enough Polly and the prep team had broken into the suite and whichever one was responsible for skin and nails had grabbed the hand I had cut with glass the night before.
“Now you know,” she told me as she began bandaging it even though it had already scabbed over. “Scabs are not very pretty, Miss Essa.”
I rolled my eyes and let them pull my hair back into a single braid down my back and dress me in whatever the Capitol decided would be my outfit for the arena. The camouflage was nice, but when they added the neon yellow raincoat I grimaced a little. That would be difficult to hide.
Mind started buzzing again. What kind of arena would this be? Evidently wet, as the raincoat indicated, though what could the carabiner possibly be for? Indica mentioned something offhandedly about my eyes looking wild and empty, but I simply answered with a glare. If winning meant putting all emotions aside, then so be it. Logic and perseverance and downright cruelty won the games. Not feelings.
I ate a quick, filling lunch of pasta and meat, loading up on carbs and protein to prepare myself for the arena ahead. Still feeling a little uneasy about the fat that I had gained- would it affect my physical abilities in the arena?- I finished up and Ivory put her hand on my shoulder, telling me that it was time to go.
I entered the hovercraft with a smile, taking a seat next to the girl from Nine, who I winked at before turning forward to face my competition. Most of the tributes looked anxious and apprehensive, but a select few- Klaus, Izara, and the like- looked excited. Like me, they had been preparing for this for years. I shot Klaus a thumbs up before leaning back in my seat as the hovercraft lifted off.
Thousands of plans and strategies whirling around and interconnecting in my head, I couldn’t help but smile as we made our way to the destination. Finally, my time to shine was at hand. Finally, my name would be the one that the lemmings in the Capitol chanted. I could almost hear it now.
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