My stomach aches kept getting worse as the hour of entering the arena approached, never had six days gone by so quickly. My brother, Newt, always used to tell me that it feels like the days go by faster when we are in good company and having fun . This week does not fit into any sphere of fun, let alone good company. Maybe Newt should add a clause to this saying, something like "your last days will pass at the speed of light without you being able to enjoy them".
" - How do you feel?"
I didn't have to turn my head to recognize the person who had just walked into that kind of waiting room. It was my mentor, who had come to deliver his last piece of advice before one of his tributes ended up dead in the arena. Finnick was now at my level and silently watching me, for once his eternal mischievous smile was out of place on his face. I guess it couldn't have been that easy to be a mentor: greeting two people from your District, trying to give them the best advice before sending them to the slaughterhouse and watching them die. No doubt Finnick had better things to do than mentor.
"- I feel smeared, tense and I've... very scared."
My voice betrayed how my fear was heightened, stronger than the fear I had felt at the Reaping and in my contact with the other tributes. When I arrived, I didn't think I had any chance of survival at the start of the Games, but now, thanks to Finnick's many tips and training sessions, I had enough hope to convince myself that I might, perhaps, survive for a few days. I had to hold on to that hope if I really wanted to live and see my family again.
"- That's normal. I could barely stand on my own two feet that day."
Finnick's hand on my shoulder was comforting despite my persistent nausea, it was reassuring to know that it was only human to feel on the verge of passing out and to struggle to hold on to the basics: breathing slowly and advancing one foot after the other to the overboard. His gaze straight out of the most beautiful ocean paintings gave me a little more confidence, as if Finnick was assuring me that I could get through despite the cruelty of the Games and the predators that would be there.
"- Remember, your priority is to find shelter and a place to hide. Use your brain and speed in face-to-face situations. "He took a deep breath and continued, "I'll make sure you get what you need. I believe in you, Marlow."
My breath would get stuck in my throat for a moment before I could catch my breath again as I tried to push away the horrible scenarios that might be waiting for me in the arena. Finnick had won his Games at the age of fourteen, proving himself to be a formidable opponent with his strength, agility, speed, charm and cunning, so if this mentor thought I could do it, he was giving me the illusion that I could do it. Able to stay alive.
