The Boodbath

The arena was going to be a surprise, no matter what it was. I couldn’t guess it by our uniforms, and I couldn’t think of any other way to figure it out. It was actually quite irritating to me, actually. I hated being unknowing. I didn’t mind literally being left in the dark. I actually quite enjoyed the actual darkness. When it came to more figuratively being left in the dark and not being given the information that I had the desire to possess, however, it was really quite irritating to me. As someone who always wanted to be aware of what was going on, this was going to be annoying. Then again, I imagine the whole Games would likely be that way. The Gamemakers weren’t likely to tell us any of the useful shit we’d like to know.

Not even those at home were in the know. Neither Jamie nor Caitir, Clara nor Jacob would know what the arena was to be until I did. I doubted the people of the Capitol besides President Snow and the Gamemakers even knew what the arena’s theme was going to be. It was at least good to know that most of us were just as clueless as one another, and no other tribute had an advantage over me in that aspect. Sure, there were other things they may be better than me at, but they wouldn’t have any more knowledge of the arena than I did before we entered it.

Not even my allies were ahead of me. Although, that may not have been a good thing. If Tobias, Ella or Bruce knew anything that I didn’t, they would have been able and likely willing to share it with me. That would have been of some significant help. Then again, was there really much Bruce could have known that I didn’t with his score of one? I mean, the kid wasn’t useless, from what I’d seen, but what could he have possibly done to just get a one? I didn’t think too much about scores, though. They didn’t really matter. Someone could win with a score of one, and be the first one dead with a score of twelve. It didn’t truly affect the Games all that much.

The Games were inching closer, and I wasn’t very nervous. Sure, I had the slightest bit of fear. Death was looming close and was quite likely. Regardless, I wasn’t too scared. I could function much better than many of the other tributes likely could in that moment. I actually wanted to fight, and I assumed that meant I was unlike many of the other tributes. Perhaps that would assist me in receiving sponsorship from the Capitol if they liked me enough. Maybe it would even convince the Gamemakers to be a bit less harsh on me. That last part was possible, albeit unlikely.

It was the day of the bloodbath at the Cornucopia, and I was prepared. My stylist prepared my tribute uniform for me, which I got into rather happily. To my surprise, it wasn’t something stupid like they often dressed the tributes in. I could remember the terrors of the uniforms some of the tributes had had to wear in the past, but this one wasn’t bad. It was a suit of some sort with a bow tie. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the most functional thing to fight to the death in. Normally, I would have hated the idea of having my clothing picked out for me. It made me feel like a child again. My mother used to choose what clothing I was to wear for the day, and I never liked her to begin with. I didn’t need a reminder of that cruel, abusive bitch of a woman. I’d had enough of her to deal with for eighteen years at home.

I didn’t need anything like her again.

Even if I were to win the Games and go home, my mother wouldn’t be living with me. I’d be alone. I wouldn’t want my parents anywhere near the premises of the Victor’s Village. They didn’t deserve it, even if they were the ones truly pushing me to volunteer. I likely would have volunteered to get away from them, anyway, but I didn’t. I was reaped, and that’s how it ended up. They didn’t even visit me before I was to leave on the train to the Capitol. Clearly they didn’t care about me enough to do so.

As I stepped into the tube that would elevate me up into the arena, I took a deep breath. I knew I was prepared. I wouldn’t be able to step away from it now if I weren’t, anyway. There was no turning back at this point. Then again, there was no way to get out if I wanted to at the reaping, anyway. No one tried to take my place. I didn’t blame them, though. Jamie and Jacob both apologized for not doing so, but I didn’t expect them to in the first place. After all, I had told myself I was going to be the one to volunteer, anyway. If I hadn’t been chosen, I’d still be here. I had promised my parents that. Then again, it didn’t matter that I had promised them. It mattered that I had promised myself.

When the pedestal finally stopped moving and I ended up with the opportunity to glance at my surroundings during the countdown, I was actually impressed. There had been so much effort put into this arena. Kudos to the Gamemakers. A run-down pumpkin patch surrounded the giant pumpkin that was the Cornucopia. Among the pumpkins, however, there was something else I noticed. It was something that made me… not so happy. There were gravestones, each engraved with a name. They weren’t just names, though. They were those of past tributes. The first two that I noticed didn’t tell me that, however, as I didn’t know the names. Those ones must have died early on, I assumed.

Andesite Obsidian

Rachel Violette

The next one, however, I recognized.

Sage Scarborough

He had died in the 75th Hunger Games. A volunteer boy from District Twelve was, to say the least, honorable.

Lorenza Aita

A tribute of the 76th who demanded to die naked and had practically gone insane was, to say the least, not so honorable.

Cecilia Brontz

That name I knew. I knew it too well. It made my heart beat faster and faster. As the frequency of the beats increased, I clenched my fists.

You can dishonor the names of those I don’t know. You can dishonor the names of the volunteers. You can dishonor the names of the insane. You can never, and I mean never, dishonor the names of those I care for.

Especially not Cecilia Brontz.

3…

2…

1…

GONG!