Writer's Games Entries

Task 7: "Petty Players" (SF) (E)

What has gotten into my head, you might ask. Twice I've been to the theatre, and twice it has given me nothing more than tragedy and blood. Well, first time was the bloodbath so that was inevitable, and the second time, they made a cannibal out of me. I should be done with the theatre by now, right? Even so, I am packing a backpack to go back there. I have to be crazy. I mean, that's probably your initial thought. A few moments ago, I would've taken electrocution by lightning rather than having to go back there.

Something has changed in me I sense. I was broken down, defeated from the challenges of the previous day. I lost my way completely. The Games made me into the opposite version of me than who I wanted to be. I was going to be a hell of a lot stronger than anything they could throw at me, but time and again, I bowed to the pressure so many times that I didn't feel the point of resisting the overbearing weight anymore. However, I feel new now. It was something about that heavy rain-shower that cleansed me of all the demons and failures through the Games. Now I finally feel strong again, I feel like me.

That is why I'm going back to the theatre, partly anyway. The Gamemaker has apparently wanted me to go to the theatre for some kind of show. Now, I know these are Games and that I shouldn't trust a word coming from him, but I am done being afraid. I am doing being the shaky and coward tribute who only hides away in this fictional house that the Gamemaker created. I'll allow myself to be scared when it's all over, or wherever I end up when I die, just not yet. It's not about showing millions of people that I have the guts to face all of it, it's about proving it to myself.

I didn't pick up many supplies from the theatre the previous times, which makes my backpack somewhat lighter than I would like it to be. I guess a part of me is hoping that I'll find something in the theatre. My body feels rather weak despite of my new mindset of the Games so I am growing rather desperate. My new mentality doesn't mean I want to kill other tributes, or won't struggle with the choice doing it to save my own life, I just have to accept that it will happen. We're down to the last six. Nobody is going to give anyone a free pass anymore. For every dead tribute, I'm one step closer to going home. That is the light in the tunnel. Firstly, I have to get to that theatre.

As I walk down alongside the empty rows of seats, I do so with caution. I don't know what I expect to find or see until I get to the middle, right in front of the big stage. I have to look twice before I see that it's set up the way a stage is supposed to. There are no supplies around me as I look around briefly (guess I had my chance), but that's not what tips me off. There's something weird about the setup. It feels as though it has been waiting for me to get here because the lights go dark, and a single light appears, aiming at a puppet-theatre-box or whatever. A puppet show? Seriously, I'm not four anymore...

'Agnes' Journey' is the title that lowers down. Well, this ought to be exciting (note sarcasm). I see worn-out ropes hold the sign before going back up again. A bunch of puppets comes out eventually. I squint my eyes a little bit to see if I recognize any of them. I don't know why I would think that I could, but these are Games after all. They will pull out everything they can, and it looks like they've succeeded to begin with. I see the puppet that's supposed to me (the resemblance is striking if anything), and the others are kinda familiar but at the same time they're not. The one that makes my stomach drop is the puppet showing up next...

Recess used to be the best part of any school day. I would try to find people to hang out with, run and play something, like Pokémon. I would choose a Pokémon and I would just be it along with a couple of my friends. I usually chose Charizard or Pikachu (yup, I was that kind of dork). It was usually with many of the boys in class, not a lot of girls. It was no big mystery as to why I didn't mingle with the girls. It was always because of her.