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Capitol / Arena

Arena Day

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AUGUST DIDN'T EVEN REMEBER falling asleep last night, or how he even got to bed. It was all too dizzy, too overwhelming. One moment he was on stage and the next he woke up in his bed in the Capitol, with a never ending knocking coming from his door. August fought, trying to get his brain up to speed while also ignoring his growing headache.

August closed his eyes, trying to ignore the sound, as his brain slowly recalled what day it was. The start of the official games, the day he was gonna be sent into the arena to fight for his life. It was his potential death day, though he didn't want to think about that, because it made his chest ache.

What would Aunt Rouge think of him, when she saw him on TV? What would she think should he die or kill even. She was the one who raised him, would she ever look at him the same?

The thought didn't make him wanna get up. What if he just stayed in bed? Would peacekeepers kick in his door in, pull him out of bed, to the arena, where they put his unconscious body in the platform? Probably.

It was a ridiculous thought, but a valid one. Because what was the worst that could happen if he just stayed in bed? Are they gonna kill him right on the spot? Not very likely, they want a show, and they will recieve it, because the Capitol always gets what it wants.

With a final knock, the door to his room was opened and Blight walked inside, looking at August's form with a sigh. He closed the door behind him before walking to August, stopping at his bedside, facing August. "Hey, uhm I am not the best at this but, I know that you probably don't want to, but you have to get up. You have to leave soon and you need to eat before you do."

August furrowed his brows lifting his face from his pillow. "What would happen if I don't get up?"

Blight sighed again. "Well, I assume that they will send people, who will drag you out of here, and throw you in the arena anyway."

"How lovely." August muttered, but sat up. "This is shit."

Blight nodded agreeing. "I know, and I am sorry that you have to do this, but right now, we can't do anything to prevent any of this."

August looked up at the older teen, who continued. "I would love to just end this whole thing right now, but I can't, and you can't run from it, unfortunately. But you can fight it, slowly, just take one step in front of the other and see."

August nodded, a feeling of numbness filling him. He probably should feel something like fear, or anger or something, but there was nothing, just blank. He knew he couldn't predict anything that was to follow in the next hours. He could just hope that the whole thing was gonna be over soon, and he could go home, preferably alive.

"Are you gonna get ready now?" Blight asked titling his head. August nodded reluctantly looking into Blight's eyes. "You're shit at speeches, you know that?"

Blight shrugged. "Runs in my family." He then walked out of the door, nodding one last time at August.

The dark haired teen sighed to himself when the door closed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I really don't wanna do this."

Nevertheless, he got up and put on some fresh clothes, before moving out of his room. The dining room represents August's mood to a T. A silent almost depression atmosphere sourrounds the inhabitants. Harlow moved the spoon around the cornflakes bowl slowly an empty expression on her face. Ramona and Blight looked up at August when he entered, but stayed silent. Even Marine looked quickly down at her plate, he usual colourful clothing was held darker than usual.

𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝 - 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌Where stories live. Discover now