A Whole New Game: A Hunger Games Story

Chapter 6: A Night of Safety

Eleanor

    When I open my eyes, I am met by the face of my father, talking a ways away to a woman from the Capitol, laughing a bit. He turns and notices me, his face lighting up with a toothy grin.

    "There's my little victor! Oh Ellie I am so proud!" he gleams.

    We are in the woods, in what looks to still be the arena, only, it is decorated to the nines. Each leaf on every tree glows with a different color, as if the trees themselves were made of confetti. White lanterns hang, despite it being the middle of the day, and matching white tables covered in every kind of food imaginable surround a small pond that ripples with golden lily pads. Capitol people chime with laughter from every angle. My father strides over to me, placing his hands on my shoulder as he whispers in my ear.

    "Someone very important would like to meet you!" he bubbles.

    A group of Capitol people part, forming a path, at the end of which gleams a beaming President Snow. Something is wrong. His eyes and hair constantly change colors, and the background shifts and twirls as if everything behind him were a kaleidoscope. His voice booms over the crowd, rustling the rainbow leaves and wigs.

    "Eleanor Ruehler, I would personally like to congratulate you, the victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games."

    He strides toward me, the background behind him morphing into the colorful haze. He kisses my cheek. He whispers in my ear.

    "Victory is not yours, but ours."

    And then he vanishes as if he were never there. The Capitol people continue their party in the wood, the mysterious haze now gone.

    I am the victor. I am euphoric. I begin to slide among the Capitol people, my arena clothes morphing into a long blue dress that twirls as I pass. I am a princess, a mermaid, flowing like the ocean itself. The people gawk and grovel as I swell and flood them with my presence. And then there is a voice, so thick and gruff, yet soft enough to break the surface of my pride-inebriated trance.

    "Eleanor."

    I turn and see him. Cato. Standing at one of the nearby tables, dressed in his arena clothes.

    "Cato!" I run over and envelop him in a storm of blue silk. He holds me in his arms, a sly smile sliding onto his face.

    "Wake up, Eleanor, wake up."

    I stare confusedly, and he continues to smile, pretending as if he uttered nothing. "I'm so happy you're here, Cato!" His green eyes swim,  flames engulfing his grassy pupils.

    He slowly shifts his hand to his pocket and digs around a moment before pulling out something small and golden. A ring? Is he proposing? My delight soon disappears when I realize that it is in fact a small living creature, furiously thrashing in the grip of his forefingers. An insect. Its stinger, pointed my direction, buzzes in protest. I watch in horror  as he stabs the pointed end into my arm, his sly smile unfazed as pain rages through my veins. I look up at him. His eyes are placid, his grin unfazed. His voice is screaming.

    "Dammit, wake up!"

    My blood begins to boil, a white hot pain shrieking through my veins. I fall to my knees, watching as the Capitol people, tables, and lanterns disappear. The trees fade to a regular green, the world spins slowly, returning to the familiar setting of the arena.

    I blink and stare at Cato, who sits in front of me gently holding my wrists. Near his feet I notice an empty syringe, and an opened parachute with the number 4 on it. There is a small puncture wound near my inner elbow.