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The Games Begin
60, 59, 58, 57, 56...I count down the seconds to the gong. With each passing second, my heart rate quickens. 51, 50. With each passing second, my breathing becomes more and more shallow. 47, 46, 45. With each passing second, I feel more like I might throw up. 41. Okay, Peeta, I think to myself, You have to make a plan. Where will I go? What will I do? Should I join an alliance? 34, 33, 32, 31. Katniss! Will she take an ally? More importantly, would she take ME as an ally? Well, why shouldn't she? But on the other hand, why SHOULD she? Could I really protect her from those nasty, stuck-up, snotty Careers? No...I couldn't...21, 20. Wait...the Careers! Exactly! Could I ally with them and keep an eye on Katniss at the same time? 16, 15, 14. Well, it's worth the try. I'll just run in Katniss's direction. I'll ally with the Careers later.
I look around. Where is Katniss? 12, 11. I search frantically for my district partner until I finally spot her. She's scowling. Shocker, right? I think, then laugh at my joke. But she's got her eyes set on something. What is it? What's she looking at? And then I see it: a bow. She looks in my direction, just long enough for me to catch her eye, and I shake my head. No, Katniss, don't go for it...you'll get killed. She looks almost...confused now. 3, 2, 1. The gong sounds.
I leap from my pedestal and race towards the lake. Surely that's where Katniss is going. But no, she still stands on the pedestal. Her feet shuffle, and she runs forward, scooping up a piece of bread and a sheet of plastic. Good, she's alive, and she has supplies. But she's obviously not satisfied because instead of running towards the lake she runs in the general direction of the woods. Oh, the woods. Of course. She'll be safe there. But no, she's headed towards an orange backpack. Hmm, unfortunate color...but hey, beggars can't be choosers.
At that moment, she meets another tribute. I don't remember his name or his district...Eight maybe? No, Nine. Definitely Nine. Instantly, I feel the need to protect her. I know that I wouldn't be able to kill him, but maybe his killing me would be enough for Katniss to get away. I can see murder in his light eyes. But before I can move towards Katniss, a knife whizzes through the air and hits its target: the boy's back. He grunts and collapses, giving Katniss time to grab the backpack and run. The knife was thrown by the girl from Two, Clove I think. And Katniss is her next target. She hikes her backpack up over her head, and I see the knife in the backpack just as she disappears into the pine. Oh, thank God.
I snap back into reality and look around me. Death is all around me. And blood. And gore. I run closer to the lake, hoping to distance myself from my competitors. I stumble over something. I look down, hoping to find something useful, but instead, I look into the dead eyes of a young girl with dark curls. Beautiful. I shudder and continue towards the lake. I'll find Katniss tonight. But before I can make a plan, I take a moment to look at my surroundings. The thought of where I am makes me want to puke. I'm in the Careers' camp.
I love this, it is like knowing exactly what peeta was going through at that moment in time. I'm sure that is what Suzanna Collins was thinking of
For some people-well, for most people, in all actuality- Valentine's Day is a wonderful day, filled with love, sap, and other things that romantics find appealing. There's the college graduate proposing to his girlfriend, the highschool sweethearts exchanging gifts, and the married couple celebrating their anniversary. The world is filled with red and pink, images of Cupid, hearts, Hallmark specials, and candy. But you see, I'd never cared about the whole "romantic" idea. My idea of Valentine's day was heart shaped lollipops and picking out those Valentines-in-a-box for my classmates. That is, until my eighth grade year, when I was positive that I had fallen in love.
The gentleman went by the name of Thomas. We shared four classes, talked a good bit, and could even be considered friends. And I had a massive crush. Now, I think that it's important to know that in those days, I was a nerd. A complete and utter geek, with the whole braces and glasses combination, a large vocabulary, a love for learning, and a book tote. Yes, a book tote. But all the same, I was convinced that Thomas and I would get married one day, lost in the girly daydreams that I was shocked to be having. I had a hunch that he liked me a bit also, although he'd only broken up with his girlfriend two months prior.
I also think that it's important to know that I had always been horrible at initiating conversations with, talking to, and even associating with guys, much less in a "flirtatious" manner. But my greatest attempt yet had been a scheme of my own, an attempt at what I called "nerd-flirting." I'd paired up with him for an science project and told him that it was because we "worked well together," which was true (and honestly a real part of the reason for my teaming up with him), but not the WHOLE truth. So, naturally, I was looking forward to Valentine's Day, the day on which I would obtain a boyfriend, my first, and be swept off my feet by the young man. Or, if nothing else, I'd get one of the chocolate roses the Student Council had been selling from my "Secret Admirer." The day would be perfect. But I couldn't have been more wrong.
The day dawned, cloudy, gloomy, and cold, an obvious sign that it would be, to say the least, the complete opposite of Valentine's Day. But I've never been the superstitious type, so I didn't pay much attention to it. I was in the process of "walking on air," awaiting my Prince Charming. But nothing happened in homeroom. I don't even think we talked. Nothing happened in first period. And then we went our separate ways for second period, where I had PE, and he worked in the library as an elective, being the fellow bookworm that he was. I was a bit disheartened but still optimistic that the day would be perfect. It had to be.
As I walked to fourth period, a class we had together, sweaty and hot, I peered into the library in passing, a habit of mine. I saw him standing there. His eyes locked on mine, and I smiled. And then he motioned me into the library.
I pointed to myself, unsure of whether he was wanting ME. He nodded, and my stomach turned. This is it, I told myself, all but skipping into the empty room with giddiness. I walked up to the circulation desk and stood there, waiting for him to speak, to ask me out, to say something cute. It was going to happen. It was going to happen. I could hardly believe it.
He smiled and said "hello," then turned to the side and reached for something. My heart was pounding, my palms sweating, and my stomach churning with excitement. The object was paper though, which threw me off a bit. He passed them to me, and I looked down. They were pictures of mosquitoes, the pictures we needed for that project. That stupid project. My heart dropped, and I began to feel a lump in my throat.
"Here," he said, "These are those pictures I promised I'd get for our project. Will they work?" I nodded, trying to conceal my disappointment.
"Yeah, they're great," I said, smiling, "They're perfect. Thanks!" He breathed a sigh of apparent relief.
"Good. I was worried they wouldn't since this printer only prints in black and white. My printer broke last night." I hurried out of the library.
I don't remember walking back. I only remember sitting in that desk in front of him, numb. I couldn't even cry. I know, it's silly, but he had let me down. It was unintentional though. I didn't blame or hate him for it. And as I think back on it now, I laugh. It was my girlish dream to marry that boy. But he changed, and I eventually accepted the facts. However, I lived in a fantasy, that wonderful yet dreadful fantasy in which every teenage girl lives at some point. And that in itself gives me a reason to smile...
And, here is the link to a project I've been working on for a while. I hope to get back to it before long.
http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/3...
Thanks for reading! :)