tatemae and honne {cait}

The first days of training had left me exhausted and out of breath, at the best of times. I'd spent my time flitting around to various stations, trying to soak up as much information as I could, in the hopes that something might actually come in handy during my time in the arena. Most days I merely had to glance up from what I was doing to see my fellow tributes growing faster and getting stronger, becoming smarter and all the more dangerous, and when I looked around the room that seemed so empty, even with twenty-three other terrorised souls, all I felt was horror. I felt terrified, and the reality that I’d not even last a day in the arena dawned on me, becoming blatantly obvious as the days gradually wore on.

Of course, days of field work had helped me further develop my skills in the Training Centre, and when it came to using weapons, I wasn’t half bad, after all. The constant thought of Stella was my saving grace, and even when you had something worth fighting for, you could only swing a mace or club around at imaginary targets for so long. Sadly, most of the time spent in the Capitol so far had been by myself, keeping to myself, not making any efforts with anybody, for that matter. Deep down I guess I could feel that I stood no chance if I didn’t make an effort, and yet my stubbornness won out in the competition to just survive.

Maybe it was time to give up the act.

Hadn’t I wanted to let people know the story of Belle Calloway in the first place? (You’re going about it the wrong way, Belle.) And so, as I entered the Dining Hall, grabbing a single bread roll (it reminds you of home, doesn’t it Belle?) and nothing more, for eating too much was wrong, and I could never live down the guilt gnawing away inside if I was to indulge too much, I scanned the room in search of a face of kindness to give me the confidence boost I needed.

I see her before she sees me. She sits alone, turning her nose up at a leafy salad. Carrying my single bread roll, I approach her slowly, taking a seat opposite her. For a moment, I let silence pass between us, and then, ‘Sitting here by yourself isn’t doing you any favours, you know?’

We used to play outside
When we were young
And full of life and full of love
Some days I don’t know if I’m wrong or right
(Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear.)