Child's Play: The Forty-Third Hunger Games

Chapter 28

I have goofed again. I'm always mixing up Eight and Nine because the digits look similar and sometimes I scramble words. I have the same problem with b and d. It took me ages to learn to point my e's in the right direction.

Shui Steiner

Recently, the Capitol had unveiled a new punishment for looking at them the wrong way. They cut out someone's tongue and made them work as a servant in the Capitol. It was horrifically barbaric, and I was glad my maid Wisteria wasn't like that. She still wasn't really supposed to interact with me, but I got the better of her.

"Come on. It's just a few hours. You're off-duty, right?" I asked. From what little I could gather from her, she came from Eleven. Once in a blue moon, a Capitolite decided he wanted some domestic help and sent for a District kid. A scout went out to find a suitable, usually pretty face, and that's what happened to her. Her parents were told to tell everyone she died so everyone wouldn't be trying to attract scouts all the time. She was the lowliest of the low in the Capitol, but it was better than Eleven. And since she wasn't one of the new Avoxes, she wasn't technically a slave and did have off-time, though her employer could call her at any time.

"I am off," she admitted.

"Then why not? I need someone to show me around this big place. And I need a lovely lady so I can show her a good time," I said. Eventually, I wore her down.

"That's the fanciest restaurant in the building," Wisteria said as we passed a decadent-looking establishment with tantalizing pastries in the window.

"You must know what's good there, right?" I asked. Her eyes went wide.

"Oh, no. I could never afford to eat there," she said.

"Well, you're about to find out!" I said. She looked around the interior in wonder while I followed the waiter to a table.

"Two of your finest... whatever you have," I said. "For me and the lady."

I had never been more grateful for capitalism. It wasn't complete in Panem, but supply and demand never died. If the Capitolites who came to the building to gawk at us saw a Tribute using so-and-so's merchandise, business went through the roof. Whatever the vendors donated to me, they got back ten times in profit. I made sure to act like everything was the greatest I'd ever seen, and Wisteria didn't have to fake it.

Before her next shift, we crammed in everything we could. I hoped she had as much fun as I did. She sure looked like it. Life was short. We were young. If I wasn't going to win, I wanted to enjoy the time I had left.

There was one more thing to try after she was gone. I never could have done it with her, since it would have been taking advantage. But there were plenty of tourists who wanted to make their trip a little more memorable. The day was over, but the night was just beginning.

Steve Gilbert Kraft

I already knew who I was going after in the Bloodbath. First was Alex, of course. I would save Blake for later so she had to wait for the inevitable. My next victim would be Maple. She had a big mouth. Then Lisette, since she was always so happy. I'd give her something to be happy about. Next was Brenna, but I had something special for her. I was going to disrupt my routine and kill Weft, just so she could see him die. She wouldn't have much time to mourn him.

The Games were going to be splendid. All my life, I'd been bored. Mice and cats could only provide so much fun. It was boring starting fires in a District full of water. I should have been born in Nine. I would have started killing people years ago if I wasn't afraid I'd get caught. Instead I did it the proper way and waited for the Games, where I'd be a hero if I killed people. Maybe I belonged in Four after all, or maybe Two.

It was good to be in the Capitol. These people were just like me. We both knew everyone was going to die someday. If it was going to happen anyway, it should at least provide entertainment. They were smarter than the Districts. I was going to like coming back every year. My only regret was that I wouldn't be able to kill those of my mentees who failed.

Training time was over, so I had to make mischief somewhere else. I already had a plan, though. The rest of the Careers, the ones in the alliance, were always together, even outside of training. Once training was over, they met up to make plans and strategies and whatever. That left their rooms wide open.

The doors were locked, but I didn't need to go inside. I was standing outside Blake's room, since I decided to do her first and save Alex for last this time. I had a nail file I'd swiped from my bathroom, and I knew just what to do with it. I pressed it to her metallic door and leaned against it. b***h, I carved. I was saving most of my creativity for Alex.

I took longer to compose Alex's message. I knew more about her, so I had more to work with. I thought back to earlier times and all my father and I had done to her. We were about to complete the story. For once, I wasn't bored.

The worst is yet to come, I scratched. Everyone would know it was me, of course. But the rule was against physical harm. They might come after me for defacing private property, but they wouldn't want to get rid of me. They wanted to see it as much as I did.

Atro Pitch

I practiced some with the knives, but I didn't have to stay long. I already knew how to use them. Then I practiced at the hand-to-hand station, but it was the same story. Things like that came naturally to me. In a District with any opportunity of advancement, I would already have been successful. It was just bad luck that landed me in Twelve.

I was already thinking ahead to how I could make the best of this. For someone from Twelve, the most important thing was contacts. Nobody from an outlying District could win without a whole lot of help and support from behind the scenes. Our only Victor, Nubu, only won because of the shield some rich Capitolite sent him. Where would he have been if Victory had found him and he'd had nothing but a stick? He'd be dead. I needed to charm them and make them pick me as the one they wanted to win. They'd provide everything I needed.

Once I was in the Arena, I'd have to keep up the act. I'd keep up my appearances as much as I could and keep on a happy face. No one wanted to sponsor a dirty, sad Tribute. If they were like anyone else, Capitolites would prefer people like themselves. And they were gaudy and well-dressed and always happy. I'd show them I belonged with them.

After the Games, I'd need to make the best of my prize. The prize for winning included a house and all sorts of other bonuses and benefits, but I could make even more out of it. Nubu was happy to live in his house and give presents to whoever knocked on his door, but I had more ambition than that. When I won, I was going to invest my winnings and put them back into the District. I could buy an interest in the more lucrative mines in Twelve and earn more money, which I could use to improve them and make them more profitable. I'd keep the money in Twelve and keep adding improvements and infrastructure until it wasn't such a pit. If I won, everyone would win.

The interviews were tomorrow. I needed a golden angle. But really, all I needed to do was be myself. If they saw how ambitious and confident I was, they would know I was the one to back. Then I would just prove them right.

Zaley Flowerfield

A lot of people were surprised by how happy I was. I didn't see it that way. I had a lot to be sad about, but so did everyone. If everyone was always sad about the bad things that happened, no one would ever be happy.

It went deeper than that, too. Sometimes I was happy because it was the easiest option. I deliberately chose not to think about the sad things because if I did, they might eat me up. I smiled when I saw a little girl out with her mother, but I still remembered the mother I didn't have, and it still hurt. I was happy for her, but that didn't mean I wasn't sad for myself.

The more I peeled back my happy nature, the more twisted it got. I was sad about losing my parents, but there was a part of it I was happy about. What had happened to us was the best possible ending. We knew when we left that there wasn't going to be a happy ending. Every day we expected to be caught and killed. When I lost them, it wasn't as sad as it should have been, because I'd already mourned for them in my head. I knew they were going to go someday. I thought I would, too, and I was happy about that. They must have expected the same outcome, and I knew they were happy that I got away.

They didn't have to watch me get Reaped. That was another reason I could be happy. The last they saw of me was their little girl running toward a fence. I was running toward a better life and a chance at something they never had. And even Twelve was a better life. It was easy to be happy with scraps and shacks when I'd been through worse. Once, when we were in the wilderness, I ate grass just so I could pretend my stomach was full. I was just happy to not be running anymore.

Sometimes, I was just faking it. I kept smiling and laughing and told myself I must be happy, or else I wouldn't be doing that. I faked it until I made it, but sometimes it didn't work. People thought I was happy all the time, but the truth was they didn't see the days when I wasn't. On those days, I hid in my shack and fought off the memories. I just didn't let anyone see it.

Long ago, I'd learned people had a lot more control than they thought. There were easy lives and hard lives, but how happy you were was your own decision. It wasn't easy, and sometimes it got away from you, but you had to do it yourself. What made me sadder than anything else on most days was how people reacted to me. What kind of world was it when people were surprised someone was happy?