Pleasantries {Zeki + Chaske} Blitz

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

The food stats wonderful. It's truly amazing compared to anything I've ever tasted before. And in a way it disgusts me knowing how food here is an over abundance, yet back hope in district nine food wasn't much of anything. For now I refuse to think of home. All I have is this plate of delicious lunch. Training was left behind for the moment. Learning how to survive the hell awaiting me isn't as important as shoveling food down my throat as fast as I possibly can because who knows when I'll see it again. Who knows what the arena will have in store. I've seen so many that I remember. Last year's was an underground cave. It was dark as can be, hopefully that doesn't happen this time.

Lifting the fork from the plate, I shovel a piece of fish into my mouth. Never in my life have I tasted something like this, and to be honest, I'm not sure if I like it or not. It's different, and tastes strange, but then again I've never ate a fish. Allowing the fish to fall back down to the plate, I carefully move it away because I'm not eating it anymore. It's not good, and seeing how those people from district four practically live off fish. But I look away scooping up a bite of this thing called sweat potato pie. Never heard of that before, yet as soon as I'm about to put in into my mouth, a boy walks up.

Zeki. Who the fuck names a kid Zeki. Oh wait, he's from a different district. Whoever this Zeki kid is just interrupted my meal, and he wants to talk to me, and he's sitting right in front of me. A tribute from district five. He's so prideful, and full of energy. He's happy he's from district five. Should I be happy I'm from district nine? Where my family fucking hates me? Where Chance abandon me leaving me for dead? Where my father and mother hated me? My jaw clenches, and I look around trying to figure out what's going on. And when I realize everywhere else was full, and people were having conversations, he choose to sit here.

"Well, Zeki, congratulations on becoming a tribute. Seems like we're in the same fucking boat. Both of us are going to die, and I hope you've already embraced the thought of your death."

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

Perhaps talking wasn't the smartest idea because he doesn't move, but I can almost taste the fear coursing through his body ready to devour him. Yet when he looks around, and doesn't move something different surges before my eyes. For once I'm glad he didn't run away from me like everyone else. He didn't treat me like a dog because of the words flying from my mouth - he sat there talking to me. Bringing up another point. One I never wanted to talk about. The chances of survival. I know what they are, and I know what it's like fighting for my life. I did that every fucking day of my life.

Until he vanished.

And he brings up something. That thinking like the dead isn't the right way for life. I'm not thinking like the dead. I'm far from it. My chest expands with every breath. Blood courses through my veins every time my heart beats. Those two motions keep me alive, and I don't have to think about it. Many nights I begged to stop breathing. I begged for my heart to stop beating, but I was stuck. Trapped in a world where nobody cared, and part of me wonders why anyone would care now - especially some rich kid from district five.

Inhaling sharply I allow my eyes to shift from my plate of food towards the kid. All these pastries. My stomach begs for one of them. Pleads with me for a sweet dessert to shove into my stomach mixed with the rest of the food. A feast. One before the games begin. But instead of picking one up, I place my hands on the table. A drum ticks in my ears as I allow the words to form on the top of my tongue. Words I need to explain what I'm thinking.

"Well, I've never expected to live, but I go through life living and breathing. I go through life knowing that I am alive, and I will be alive until my heart stops beating and my chest stops expanding from my lungs taking in air. I'll be alive until a fucking cannon sounds. I'll show the world that I am very much alive. Even until that point. It's best to imagine yourself dead because then once you are in fact dead the world won't bother you anymore. And neither will I."

I sigh.

"Might as well enjoy this delicious food while you can. Because who knows if this is your last."

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

Something about this kid sparks a flame inside me. The way he thinks about the way of life. The way he always seems so positive. The way he talks about the food on his plate like he's enjoying every possible second of it, yet when he mentions eating like a maniac a small laugh flies through my lips. He has no idea what it's like being hungry. He has no idea what it's like, I do. Might not know as much as the people from twelve or eleven, but I've lived by myself. I've starved myself.

"Eat all you can eat."

It's a buffet one that never runs dry. One that I wish existed in my house back in district nine, but it's impossible. Poverty. That's all there was. I had no money. All the food I received took a tremendous amount of effort to collect, and even then it wasn't ever enough.

Here I have it all. Every piece of food I can dream of plus more rests on the table. I pick up a piece of dessert not caring that the rest of my plate is covered with main course. Who cares what order I eat in? Father and Mother aren't here to stop me - not that they could anyway. Then he asks me what my name is as he swings a leg over the chair. His plate piled high with food. A kid from district five should have the luxury of eating every single day. Stomachs shouldn't ever have to run empty, but he's stopping me from eating.

And then he asks for my name.

At first I stare at him. Why would he want to know my name? Why does he even care? We're place in the line of fire. We're a murderer sitting blinded folded on the stairs waiting for the moment. Every breath shallow as the world around you grows louder and louder. All that's left is to hear the gun fire and the world go black. Or to feel the amount of pain surge through the body before losing consciousness due to pain. One of us will die, yet it's likely both of us will.

And he must know that.

We all should.

"Well, Zeki, since you want to know my name, I will share."

In inhale sharply enjoying the sweat taste of chocolate coursing through my mouth filling my soul with life.

"My name is Chaske. And why do you care? After all, I am one of your enemies. And you, are one of mine."

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

For the first time in my entire life, I feel alive. This man in front of me always seems so positive like he's already forgotten what the entire objective of this meeting is. It's a shame, really, because otherwise we could've been friends. Or enemies. Never know especially the way life goes. I watch as he takes a bite of his roll, and in return I shovel a giant piece of this chocolate stuff into my mouth devouring it while I can. Perhaps he'll understand he should leave me alone, but he doesn't. Instead he speaks again about how we're only enemies in the arena.

Why should we make friends here? Why do we need to care about one another in this time of life? One of us will definitely die, and it's likely the both of us will be dead way before our time. And here he wants to make friends. Well, it seems I've made another enemy. Which is all the better for me.

"Only enemies in the arena?" The question glides from my lips as I look at him holding another piece of chocolate in my hands waiting to force it into my stomach like everything else I've ate so far. "Well then. Perhaps we should sit here and talk and get to know each other. Become friends in the short amount of time we have. Perhaps that's what everyone wants. Perhaps it's best that way?" My tone blank of expression as I place a mask over my face hiding the frustration growing larger and larger with every passing second.

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

This kid just won't stop. He keeps going and going pushing my buttons. And now he's in my face, but his words are nothing but words. Little does he know he will die. His face will flash across the sky. His face will be permanently embedded in the depths of my brain forever. Talking makes it harder to kill someone. It makes it impossible to do anything except hesitate. I can't afford to hesitate in the arena. None of us can, but if he wants to that's on him. It's all on him.

And he thinks I've given up.

A small burst of laughter escapes from my lips as he finishes his tiny speech. Maybe he thinks I've given up. Maybe he thinks that I'm best off dead - perhaps he's right, but I'm not going down without a fight. I'll fucking kill every last one of them. I'll tear his fucking head from his body. Blood boils throughout my entire body setting my entire skin on fire like someone struck a match. Beads of sweat form on my forehead running down my face. And all I can do is stare at him.

My lips twist into an evil smile.

"Listen here you motherfucker!" My voice booms through the dining hall echoing across the walls bouncing around inside my skull. My hands ball into fists. My feet plant firmly against the ground. "You fucking think you fucking know me. You fucking think you can survive the fucking games? Well go the fuck ahead! I haven't given up shit! I just fucking think it's best not to talk to the fucking enemy before killing them. Don't you fucking see? Making fucking friends is a hell of a lot harder when you have to fucking kill them. And you know what, you're the first person on my fucking list to slaughter. I hope you die the most painful death anyone has ever fucking experienced! SO FUCK OFF!"

I slam the plate of food against the table. Shards fly in every direction along with the food as it splatters against the table. Fuck the food. Fuck everything about this fucking place.

"So have all the fucking hope you want."

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

What was it Prism said? Spunk? Yeah. That's what he said, and this kid must have a lot of it because he just won't back away, and now he's grinning from ear to ear. My eyes narrow, and my gaze fixes on him. Turns out he's just a fucking jerk. One that always wants to have fun. One that wants to push people down, but he's running out of time. His time for fun is over, and I just think my life may have some fun.

And now he's yelling. He has me right where he wants me. My gaze moves away from him for only a second. That's what he wanted. He wants me to like him. To be friends with him. And all I can do is sit here and stare at him. I count each breath I take between his words. My heart prances inside my chest. He's fucking stupid.

I look at all the food spread across the table. Oh how I wanted to devour all of that. My stomach screams at me. Screams for the food that's laying on the table. And now I just look at it before swiping it off the table. For the first time in my entire life a motherfucker is trying to make life much easier. For him. Not for me.

Instead of talking I remain quiet staring at him. My jaw clenches tightly as my muscles quiver slightly. Hatred dances inside me as the puppeteer tries taking charge. The strings moving around - I can feel them, and I fight against them with every ounce of strength I have. My hands ball into fists before pounding against the table over and over again. And I just sit there, quietly, taking in the prey.

Oh how do I pounce him?

How do I tear him apart?

"Ok...You want to know what I think of you? You want to know? DO YOU?" My voice loud as the questions fall from my lips, but I don't give him a chance to speak. "I'll tell you." Words slither past my teeth filling the air. "Better yet, I think I'll wait. You're of no importance to me - at least not now. Perhaps later you'll be." I'm done with him. I'm done playing around with him. And for now, I stand here waiting for the words.

Just one more. Just one more.

Then we'll go away.

"Or I could tell you now. I think you're a selfish, arrogant, conceited son of a bitch that deserves the chance of being in the game. You deserve the fight. And maybe, just maybe you can win, but I fucking doubt someone of your nature can win. YOU ARE FUCKING WORTHLESS! YOU MESS EVERYTHING UP! YOU MESS IT ALL UP! Everything is all your fault. It's all your fucking fault."