The Volunteer - Gale Hawthorne

Chapter Fifteen

I had spent the whole day, listening to Haymitch reiterate the same thing over and over again. Don't go for the Cornucopia, find water, make shelter, careful with fire, avoid the Careers, find food, get a backpack if possible, yada yada yada. 

Then, I had to hear Effie's disapproval of my poem I made for Gale. She is convinced that I need to play the 'stronger than them' card during my interview. She critiqued my entire poem, telling me that it is too cryptic, then too obvious, then stupid, and then that it is an absolutely ridiculous thing to say on camera in front of the entirety of Panem. 

"Effie, I've made up my mind. You have never escorted a Victor. Let me be your first. I need the people to want me to go back home. They have to want me to win to sponsor me. If they think they'll get a fantasy love story out of a Victor, they're going to sponsor." I explain one of my reasonings, the smaller of my two. My other is that I want Gale to know how I feel in case I do die.

"I guess that is a good point." She finally admits, though I can tell she's reluctant. At least she can't tell me it won't help. 

"Listen, they already know I'm more than capable after that score, so there's no point to reiterate it. What I need now is for them to think there is a reason for me to come out of those Games alive. They need to understand that I have people to go home to, people that I love more than life itself. If they have a love story that they can follow, they're going to want me to get out alive and watch my life like television." I continue to explain. I already know how I'm going to keep them hooked in the arena. It's not going to stop with just an interview.

"I just hate that you have to go into that arena. But you're one of the most promising Tributes I've ever escorted." Effie says, smiling at me. 

"Peeta has a good chance. He's strong and from the Merchant area. He's eaten pretty well his whole life, not to mention he's thrown hundred pound sacks of flour clear over his head for years. He could deal a lot of damage if he were to try. I'm not the only good Tribute you've got this year." I inform her, hating how she indirectly put Peeta down. 

"Well, of course Peeta is a good Tribute, but I'm confident to say that you're the best Tribute." Anger comes over me as I listen to her basically throw Peeta under the bus. I decide that no more words are necessary. Deaths should wait for the arena. 

"I'm going to go to bed. I need plenty of rest before that interview." I mutter before walking to my room, where I lay down and fall asleep damn near immediately.