Alliances:Do I really have a chance(Open)

My spine feels like the nerves are being slowly pulled apart with tweezers, and my stomach is churning madly as I walk into the training center. The room is so huge, with so many weapons and stations, it makes me feel puny. Some of the tributes from the richer districts stand off to the side, comparing Career statuses, and they're huge too, huge muscles and egos. Everything since I came to the capitol has been so large that I can't help but feeling like no-one would notice if I disappeared. I am like a crack on the sidewalk of the Capitol, lost in the huge structures, lavish foods, insane clothing choices, and grotesque body styling. Daniella Lamonde is becoming lost in the glory and extravagance of this new world.

"Tributes, gather round!" The reedy voice of the head instructor calls from the center of the training center, on the thick mat for the hand to hand combat station.

We all stand in a messy semi-circle and are talked at for a few minutes. The head instructor either doesn't realize or doesn't care that most of us aren't listening. At least not fully. I watch a fly circle around the bright lights on the ceiling, their buzzing's mixing harmoniously. We are dismissed and everyone stumbles off to different stations, before I realize what the instructor even said.


I glance around the room, helpless and wondering what to do with myself. Ideally I would go somewhere like First Aid, but since I have next to no combat experience, something like knives or target practice might be more logical. A boy catches my eye, standing near the target practice station. I remember him from the reaping, because there was a twelve year old in the games, because the one thing I had wanted from my participation, wasn't going to happen. His name is Evan-something, and the way his the bridge of his nose arcs into his brows makes me think of Nick. I instantly want to trust him. I run my tongue over my lips, trying to cure my dry throat, and walk up to him.

"Hi, I'm Daniella. District Nine." I say, my voice coming out more confident than I expected. Now that I am closer, I can really see him, this person who is barely more than a child, but definitely not a man yet. Compared to the other people in the room, compared to me even, he is tiny. I can't even imagine someone trying to hurt this boy, when all I can think about now is how to protect him, from the monsters across the training center. I want to say something to him, but I can't think of anything that would be appropriate. I look around the room again, feeling that crushing sense of smallness and wonder how Evan manages not to get swallowed up.

"Target practice?" I ask nodding towards the red and white circled wood. A rack beside me holds dozens of spears, I choose one at random, about half of my height, and feel it in my hands. The wood is light and pliable, and the metal end is curved into a wicked point. It's not particularly heavy and I don't think It would be too hard to maneuver, but the real question is do I want to? This stick in my hands is a weapon, a killing device and even the slightest movement of my arm could kill this boy beside me, or even one of the people across the room, or one of the game makers in the seats, or myself. I get a sick feeling in my stomach and drop the spear, hugging my hands to my chest, not wanting to let them do what I know they could.
I know once the games start, I will have to forget this silly conscience and do something I will regret. It's a given if I want to see Nick or my mother again. Right now however, while I still can, I am going to keep some of my compassion and reluctance. I am not ashamed of it, in fact I am proud of it.