When The Canary Sings

A Hint of Betrayal

First Person~Picker Sparks

"In two weeks, twenty three of you will be dead, one of you will be alive. Who that is depends on how well you listen to what I am about to say," the woman said. Becca and I were down in training, surrounded by our competition. "First, no fighting with the other tributes, you'll have plenty of time to do that in the arena." The woman said with a light chuckle, as she said that, I found myself blanking. I had told Becca I would keep her safe, but what if someone got to her before me? What if we were the last two? What if someone gets to me before I get to her? "Twenty percent from dehydration, exposure can kill as easily as a knife." The woman finished, and we were dismissed.

"You alright?" I heard a voice ask next to me. I looked down to see Becca's face looking up at me.

"Fine, just blanking." I responded truthfully, Becca just shrugged and walked towards the knife throwing station. I followed.

"Haymitch said stay separated," Becca said, looking up at me. "If they know we're gonna stick in the arena, they're gonna try and separate us." Becca whispered, keeping her head down and fiddling with a knife. "Can't sing my way outta this one, huh?" She muttered into the knife and I chuckled. She picked up her head and gave me a questioning look.

"Maybe not, but you have natural charm." I laughed, looking around at the careers grunting as they threw spears across the room.

Becca scoffed, "what? Am I supposed to flirt with the eighteen year old from two? Sing to the sixteen from one?"

"I mean charm the audience." I said, "Think about it, why do the kids from one, two and four usually win?"

"They're careers," Becca said, looking up. I remember her telling me I should join them, I still feel bad for considering it for a second.

"Yeah," I said, trying to build a point that I didn't really have, "they're careers, meaning they volunteered. If they volunteered for a death game, it means they have a huge amount of...." I stopped, trying to see if she would pick it up.

"Confidence?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Exactly," I said, "and confidence gives them personality, and the Capitol likes personality." I said, "When the kids from 12, 11, 10, come in, they're sad, sullen, boring."

"I get it." She half laughed, "I'll up the charm." She threw the dagger at a dummy, and it landed on an outer rim of the bullseye. She turned and gave me a look that said, go away, so I left.

I walked towards the middle of the room where I found a fire starting station. I contemplated trying it, but I already knew how to start a fire, so I skipped it. Eventually, I stopped at the spear-throwing area, and started testing my luck. I picked one up and inspected its head, sharp and perfectly made.

Wonder what child slave in Two made this one?

I held it like the instructor told me, and threw it. To my surprise, it landed in the middle of the bullseye. I kept throwing them, and throwing them. I could see the careers staring, and I basked in it.

Eventually, I moved onto the throwing knives, and it went exactly like the spears. Each one landing in the middle of the target. I could feel the career stares, burning through my back.

If I joined them, I could win.

If I joined them, I could survive.

Once I finished with the knives, I walked around, looking for Becca. She was the only tribute that I couldn't find. Just as I was about to ask a peacekeeper, I felt something land on my shoulder. I looked down to find it was a small navy blue button, I picked it up from the floor and held it in my hands. As I inspected it, another one fell, this one red. I looked up to see Becca, sitting on the hanging ceiling panels, thick as thieves with the kids from three.