(BOSTON'S POV)
Kind. Helpful. Perfect in every way. Smart. Dependable. Happy.
Those words are perfect for the description of Jonas. I watch her as she helps a girl with an injury. As she studies plants and throws knifes. How her chances of winning the games increases by never ending odds, odds that increase in her favor. I throw the ax, and as it hits the target, I think of Anil, mother, and father back home. At this time, father's probably just now getting back from the lumber factory, bringing home fresh wood, smelling strongly with sawdust.
Then, mother will be hauling the wood into the fireplace, as Anil arrives home from school. Father will sit down in the rickety, old rocking chair in the parlor and the fire burns with ecstasy. Mother will have written a story or some poetry to go along with the peaceful night, and after dinner, they'll go tend the vegetable garden in the square.
Those happy thought fill my head and sigh, wishing that I could be home right now. Wishing Jonas and I could be sharing more wonderful memories with my wonderful family back home. My eyes start to tear up at the thought of our cottage, not to far away from the square. Covered in moss and surrounded by beautiful trees. I keep throwing the axes, not caring where they hit, because I'm mad. Mad at the Capitol. Mad because they think it's fun to watch little, innocent children die. Mad because they think it's nothing bad, except for the fact that kids will be killing kids. Kids who don't deserve to die like this. Kids who don't deserve to die at all.
I hurl my final ax, and it buries itself it the dummies skull. And I think of the children I'll be killing. The innocent children that could die because of me. Those innocent lives I'll be taking away. I leave the weapon station and head over to the medicine table where Jonas sits combining all sorts of concoctions.
"Hey." I set myself down in the chair next to hers and she looks up from the bowl full of all sorts of herbs and oils. "Can you...teach me? How to make medicines and stuff?" I ask oddly.
"Sure."
She hands me an empty bowl and a few elements I don't recognize. "Burns come easy during the Games, so we're going to make a burn treatment." I nod.
"Take this salt rock and grind it in this bowl." I follow her instructions, and soon the rock has diminished to, well, salt.
"Now grind some of this lavender up. This oil helps you sleep so when you put it on the burn, the sore will numb and you will fall asleep while the medicine works its magic."
It's all starting to make sense now.
"Alright," I say. "But why don't we just put the oil in instead of making new oil?"
"Normally, in the arena, you have to create your own concoctions like lavender oil unless you get a sponsor. And you never know if you'll get a sponsor."
"How do you know all this?" I ask, stunned at her variety of knowledge.
"During the weeks before the reaping," She starts. "I watched several of the past games to see what people used for they're strategies. Like learning how to swim, skill with a weapon, or outsmarting your opponent. Several victors had to make their own survival tools.
"And I figured that if one of us are to come out of this arena alive, we should follow in the victor's footsteps."
"Smart," I say, proud that my sister knows this much. "That'll be helpful." She looks at me with a smile on her face and we share another special brother-sister moment before the games. Cherishing each last second we have together.
"Now add these ingredients," she says. "Let's finish that medicine...."
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Back in the circle of tributes, Melie talks to us to help develop strategies for our private sessions. "You'll each be placed with trainer that will help both you and your district partner developing strength and such." Murmurs echo throughout the group in response.
"District one, Derrick and Seal. You will go train with Mendigo." The two tributes leave the group, District Two trailing right behind. District by district, tributes by tributes, Melie insures that everyone files out.
"District Seven, Boston and Jonas." My name catches my attention and I look away from the floor. "You will be training with Henna." I follow Jonas and Henna to a small room with ropes and gizzards hanging from every nook and cranny. It reminds me of an obstacle course, like the one back home hanging throughout the trees.
"Alright you two," Henna begins. "You better listen cause you're with me for the rest of training. So if you don't pay attention, you'll be toast in those games."
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I grip the rope ladder with all my strength. It moves and turns me in directions I don't want to take. I lodge my left foot into a ladder crevice and hoist my right up to the next rung. As I bring my left foot up, the heel of my shoe catches on the metal connecter and I fall down to the mat underneath the ropes, not having the ability to catch myself. I groan. 'I'm not going to give up,' I strictly tell myself, and I elevate myself back onto the ladder.
Clinging to the next rung at the top of the ladder, I jump to the swinging bars at the top of the room. I swing from bar to bar and I drop myself down after completing the bars. I wipe the sweat from my hands on my pants and Henna comes over to congratulate me on completing the ropes. "Nice job Boston. I'm very impressed."
I leave the ropes course and head over to the jump arena. Jonas courses through the jump, bouncing over all the obstacles that get in her way. She does an amazing job. And I'm filled with hope, hope that Jonas will go back home....
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Do You Remember? A Hunger Games Fanfiction
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] Many, many years after the rebellion, Paylor of Eight still reigned over Panem. Until she was executed by Snow's remaining family who saught to revenge him and continue the Hunger Games. The fight to the death was back on, and now ther...
