" 𝔦'𝔪 𝔞 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔳𝔦𝔳𝔬𝔯 "
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
In an attempt to save her sister, and survive
the Hunger Games, Rowan Everdeen meets
Cato Hadley, the murderous boy from
District 2 who might be just what she
...
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" you will never be the same "
rowan's view
ℑ couldn't hear what Haymitch was saying. And I couldn't tell whether I couldn't hear because I was in shock or I couldn't hear because I was blocking him out.
The Games were about to begin.
I could feel it in my bones, like a terrifying tremor that resonated through me every few seconds, making my hands shake, reminding me where I was going.
What would the Arena be this year? A scorching desert? A freezing glacier? I didn't know. It was the not knowing that scared me. I was prepared in every way possible except for this; this was the one thing I couldn't prepare for. It was the way that the Gamemakers fucked with our heads, making our minds go in constant loops. What was the Arena going to be? What terrifying muttations were they going to send after us this year for their own entertainment? What horrors were held in store for us?
Were we going to survive?
All those questions reverberated around my head, making Haymitch's words jumped and hazy. I could barely focus on the elevator doors ahead of me, the grey metal turning into a blur with my unfocused eyes.
The elevator that was taking me to the roof of the Tribute center, where a hovercraft awaited me and all the other Tributes. A hovercraft that would take me to the Arena.
It was only when the elevator dinged, a loud and sharp noise, that I jumped out of my skin, Haymitch's phrase suddenly piecing itself back together in my head.
"They'll put all kinds of stuff right in front, right in the mouth of the-"
"Cornucopia," I blurted out, turning to Haymitch with wide eyes. Haymitch's eyes met mine, his cool blue orbs startlingly relaxed. He had license to be relaxed, I supposed. He wasn't going into the Games.
Haymitch didn't look surprised that I had known what he was going to say. In fact, he looked as if he had expected it. His lips pressed into a thin line, and I could see him suppress his pity. He knew me, and he knew that I didn't want pity. Not right now.
Instead, Haymitch let out an amused sigh. "I don't know why I even try," Haymitch gave me a wry smile, the easy interaction making me reciprocate the gesture.
"Okay, how 'bout I pretend I don't know more than you for five minutes," I said with a light smirk. It was distracted; the interaction. It was normal, or at least as normal as a conversation with Haymitch Abernathy could get.
"There'll be knives. Don't go for them." Haymitch didn't even hesitate to start telling me what to do. "Don't get pulled into the Bloodbath. You turn, run, find high ground, look for water. Water is your new best friend. Oh, and don't step off of that pedestal early, they'll blow you sky high."
