MPHFPC ➵ The Hunger Games AU (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 12

.☆ POV- Jacob

Training dragged on for another two days. In which time the bond between me, Bronwyn, Fiona, Millard, Emma, Hugh, and Horace only grew stronger. Which was dangerous if not powerful; emotions were not to be toyed with in this way. Trying to balance friendship with death was tricky. This was not only to test our physical strength but how far, how long, we could keep our grips on ourselves.

I waited for my turn to present the Capitol my skills. What skills? That I hadn't figured out yet.

My thoughts kept circling back to my allies. I had given my heart to these bedraggled teenagers, and even though we weren't supposed to be friends, I felt that they were more family than my parents ever had been to me. The truth was, I'd been given a fine life, especially for someone in District 12, and perhaps that was the core of my guilt. I had it so easy compared to others, and now, this was my chance to rough it out. To prove that I wasn't just a spoiled kid with an unbroken family.

And then I'm called up for my private session. Fiona looks at me, and I see tenderness in her eyes when she nods. I didn't ask a question, but she nodded, and somehow I felt encouraged by this.

I enter the room and see a line of Capitol people seated at a table. What do I do? What do I do? Of all the things I could have been thinking about, I just couldn't have come up with a plan, could I?

They watched in anticipation while I scuffled nervously to look at my resources. What was I good at? I found myself selecting a knife. Yes, yes. If I could do anything it was short distance weapon-shooting.

Target. Where was the target? Or, one better, what was the target? I looked over and a dummy caught my eye. I turned and almost stabbed its head before getting grips on myself. That would be stupid. It was universally unimpressive to stab an unliving, unmoving object in an obvious spot from right in front of it.

I ran, fast as I could, to the other side of the room- who knew, maybe I would have to win them over with my unfortunately average speed- and flipped around. Fixed my gaze on the dummy; gripped my hands tightly over the knife's handle until my knuckles turned white.

Anticipation washed over me. I stared but a second longer, then tossed my knife and landed it a foot away from the dummy, lodged into the flooring.

Shame. Embarrassment. Oh, there was no recovering from this. I frantically raced to grab the knife and returned to my spot. I threw it again, sloppily, but managed to land it at the figure's neck. I was aiming for its head, but the neck had to be better. I looked at the judges. The Capitol.

With the wave of their hands and a few scattered murmurs, I was dismissed (and scared silly.)

.☆ POV- Bronwyn

The rest of the tributes and I listened to the announcer, waiting for our scores to be called. I was shaking, waiting for my name. I had to get a high score. I had to, for the sake of sponsorship and receiving items that could be key for me and my allies.

I couldn't tell anyone what order the names were called in; by Districts, I assumed, but all of the words jumbled around my head.

Hugh. 10.

Horace. 6.

Millard. 8.

Me. I held my breath. "10." 10! That wasn't bad.

Jacob. 7.

Emma. 9.

Enoch. 7. I wondered for a moment why I had instinctively tuned in for his name. We weren't allies. We weren't friends. But I pushed my thoughts aside and kept listening.

Fiona. 11.

My jaw dropped open. 11. Fiona, the silent girl, the one from District 12, received the highest training score. I swallowed down my awe.

The voice stopped calling names.  I clenched my fist and focused on one thought. I am in the Hunger Games. I have to protect the others. I need to fight. I will fight. I will beat the stuff out of them, and they will die, and we will win.

We?

This is the only way.