Hunger Games 1

Chapter 14
Atala began to read the list of training sites, and I looked around at the players.It was the first time for contestants from each district to assemble on the ground wearing ordinary clothes.Seeing them, I feel very heavy. Although some contestants can't eat enough-this can be seen from their protruding skeletons, rough skin and deep-set eye sockets-but almost all boys and half The girls are taller than me.But after thinking about it, although I am short in stature, the flexible mind my family gave me is also my advantage. Besides, although I am small in stature, I have been eating wild animals and plants in the jungle all year round. His body is stronger and stronger than most people around me.

The only exceptions are those players from wealthy jurisdictions, those volunteers who have been eating and training for this moment since birth.This is often the case for players from the first, second, and third districts.It's technically against the rules to train Tributes before coming to the Capitol, but it happens every year.In District [-], we call them "professional tributes," or "professional players."Like it or not, the winner is always one of them.

The slight advantage gained by the successful appearance in the fire yesterday seems to have disappeared when facing a strong competitor today.Other "tributes" envy us not because we're good, but because our designers are good.At this time, there was only contempt and disdain in the eyes of the "professional tribute". Each of them seemed to be fifty to one hundred pounds heavier than me, and they looked arrogant and barbaric.As soon as Atala announced that we were disbanded, they headed straight for the training grounds, equipped with deadly weapons that they were comfortable wielding.

I think I am lucky to be able to run fast.That's when Peeta nudged me and startled me.He did his bidding to Haymitch and stayed by my side.He looked serious. "Where do you want to start?"

I looked around and saw the "professional tributes" showing off their power and eager to try; those who couldn't get enough to eat, who were obviously inferior, were tremblingly preparing to start with knives and axes.

"I think we should learn how to tie knots," I said.

"Okay," Peeta said.We walked across the practice field to an empty station where the coaches were delighted to see students coming, and the station gave off the feeling that knotting was not a popular Hunger Games class.When the coach learned that I knew a thing or two about rigging, he taught me a simple method of rigging, which can hang a person's leg from a tree.We worked hard for an hour to master this skill.After that we learn to camouflage.Peeta seemed very interested in this skill, spreading a paste of mud, clay, and pounded berries on his pale skin, and weaving a camouflage hat out of twigs and leaves.The coach is also passionate about his work.

"I'm a cake maker," he told me quite frankly.

"Cake?" I was watching intently as a District [-] player speared a dummy's heart from fifteen yards away. "What cake?"

"At home, make that iced cake for the bakery," he said.

He meant the kind of cake that was displayed in the window.One of those pretty cakes with flowers and little icing decorations.It is only eaten for birthdays or New Years.Prim used to drag me to see that kind of cake when we wandered around the [-]th Arrondissement Plaza, but we could never afford it.There's nothing pretty in District [-], so I couldn't resist her request.

I looked at the camouflage pattern on Peeta's arm, the light and dark stripes like the shadows of sunlight filtering through leaves, and wondered how he knew that, because I'd always wondered if he'd ever been out of District [-].Did he get his inspiration from the old apple tree in their backyard?All of those things—his skills, the uneaten cakes, the coaches' compliments on his camouflage—pissed me off.

"Beautiful. Pity, if only you could freeze people to death with icing," I said.

"Don't always be so high up, okay, who's to say what you'll find in the arena. Say, a giant cake—" Peeta said.

"Like, let's go." I interrupted him.

In the next three days, Peeta and I went from one station to another quietly, and we did learn many valuable skills, such as: making fire, throwing a knife, and building an awning.Even though Haymitch told us not to show off, Peeta was so good at hand-to-hand combat that I ate wild plants without batting an eyelid.We carefully steered clear of archery and weightlifting, trying to save that for individual training sessions.

Race organizers came early on the first day.There were about twenty of them, both men and women, in dark purple robes.They sat in the spectator stands around the training ground, sometimes they would come to walk among us and take brief notes, and other times they would munch on the special food prepared for them and ignore us.But they seem to pay special attention to the players in the [-]th district.A few times I looked up and saw someone staring at me.They also ask the coaches about the situation during the meal time, and they gather together when we finish the practice.

Players in each district have breakfast and dinner on the floor where they live, but lunch is arranged in the restaurant outside the training ground.The food is placed in the dining car and is served by everyone.The pros like to sit around the same table, always talking very loudly, as if to show off their strength, to show that they are not afraid of each other, and don't think much of us at all.The other contestants sat scattered aside, like lost lambs.No one spoke to them.Peeta and I sat next to each other, and since Haymitch was always stalking us, we tried to chat amicably as we ate.

Finding topics is not easy.Talking about family is painful, and talking about the present is unbearable.One day, Peeta emptied the small breakfast basket and told me how his family's bakery made elaborate breads, from regional to Capitol-style.The fish-shaped bread is dyed green with seaweed from District [-], and the crescent-shaped egg roll is dotted with nuts from District [-]. Although they are all made of the same ingredients, they look much more delicious than the small biscuits baked in this district. .

"Here, this is the bread everyone got," Peeta said, putting the bread back into the basket.

"You know a lot," I said.

"It's just bread," he said. "Well, laugh now, like we said something funny."

As we said that, both of us laughed happily, ignoring the eyes staring at us around us.

"Okay, now that I'm laughing, say something," Peeta said.Haymitch made us nice to each other, and it really wore us out.Ever since I slammed the door angrily that day, there has been a faint gap between me and Peeta, but at this time we must obey orders!
"Did I tell you about the bear that chased me?" I asked.

"No, but that sounds like fun," Peeta said.

So I started talking, trying to be as expressive as I could.It's a real thing, and I was stupid enough to fight a bear over a hornet's nest - at which point Peeta laughs and asks a well-timed question.He can really pretend, much better than me in this respect.

The next day, I was taking aim with my spear, and Peeta whispered in my ear, "I think we have a shadow." The spear is not bad.At this time, I saw the girl from District 12 watching us not far behind us.She was the [-]-year-old girl, a teenager at close range, and her similar height to Prim reminded me of my own sister.She looked bright, with big black eyes and smooth brown skin.She was standing on her tiptoes, with her arms slightly spread out on both sides of her body, as if she was about to fly away at the slightest movement, and her appearance reminded people of a bird with wings spread.

As Peeta throws, I pick up another spear. "I think her name is Lulu," Peeta said softly.

I bit my lip, "Lu" is a flower that grows on the meadow (Rue, English, meaning Rue. - Translator's Note).Lulu, Prim, neither of them weighed more than seventy pounds, even when wet.

"What shall we do?" I asked him, speaking in a rough tone.

"It can't be helped," he said. "Go on."

Now that you see her, it's hard not to notice her.We were at different training grounds and she was always following us like a shadow.She is as good at plants as I am, crawling fast and aiming well.She hits the target every time with her slingshot.But how can a slingshot handle a 220-pound man with a sharp knife?

Over breakfast and dinner, Effie and Haymitch grill each other about everything that happened that day.What did we do, who was watching us, what happened to the other "tributes".Cinna and Portia were away, so there was no one to bring rational judgment to the discussion at the dinner table.Haymitch and Effie stopped arguing, and the two of them seemed to be entwined, determined to discipline us, to give us endless orders to do this and not to do that.Peeta is patient enough, but I'm tired of it and always keep a straight face.

We managed to get out the next night, and when we got back to the bedroom, Peeta murmured, "Someone should get Haymitch drunk."

I burst out laughing, but stopped immediately.My mind was so confused about when we should pretend to be friends and when we shouldn't.Fortunately, on the training ground, we all know our positions. "Don't, don't, don't pretend when no one is around."

"Okay, Katniss," he said wearily.Since then, we only speak in front of other people.

On the third day of training, we were called out at lunch for a single test with the race organizers.The tests are done district by district, first for boys and then for girls.As usual, District [-] comes last.We also had nowhere to go, just strolling around the restaurant.The contestants who finished the test left and never came back.There are fewer people in the room, and less pressure on me to pretend to be friendly.Finally, after Lulu was called away, it was just the two of us.I sat there, silent, and then someone called Peeta.He stood up.

"Remember what Haymitch said, and don't forget to say that you can throw heavy objects." The words came out of my mouth without Peeta's approval.

"Thanks, I will," he said. "You...can shoot an arrow."

I nodded, not understanding why I said this.Maybe, even if I lose, I hope Peeta wins!It's good for our district, and it's good for Mom and Prim.

After about 15 minutes, someone called my name.I straightened my hair, straightened my back, and walked into the gym.As soon as I entered, I felt bad.The competition organizers have tested 23 contestants. They spent too long here, and most of them drank alcohol.

In this regard, I was helpless, so I could only bite the bullet and proceed according to the original plan.I went to the station where the bows and arrows were displayed.Oh, bows and arrows!My hands have been itching for days.All kinds of bows and arrows are made of wood, plastic, metal, and some materials that I can't name.The tail feathers of the arrows were neatly cut.I picked out a bow and arrow and slung the matching quiver over my shoulder.The shooting distance is preset, but the distance is too close.The target is a standard ten-ring portrait target.So I walked to the center of the training ground and aimed at my first target - a dummy used to practice knife skills.When I drew the bow, something was wrong, the string was tighter than what I had at home, the arrow was stiffer, and I missed the dummy by inches.Few people in the auditorium paid attention to me at first, and everyone was even more absent-minded at this moment.For a while, I felt ashamed.I returned to the shooting position at the portrait target and shot many times in a row until I got the hang of the new weapon.

I returned to the original position in the center of the training ground, drew the bow fully, and shot through the heart of the dummy with an arrow. Immediately afterwards, I shot the rope hanging the boxing sandbag. The sandbag hit the ground and split open with a snap.Without stopping, I rolled on the ground, then knelt on one leg, and shot another arrow, which hit the spotlight high above the training ground, causing sparks to fly from the spotlight.

I shot a great arrow, and then I turned to the organizers of the contest, some nodding approvingly, but others eating the roast pig that had just been served.

I was suddenly on fire.Now my life is hanging by a thread, but these people ignore me, I am not even a dead pig.My heart was pounding and my face was flushed.Without thinking, I drew an arrow from my quiver and shot it straight at the table where the contest organizer was sitting.Then they heard screams, and those people hurriedly stumbled back.The arrow just hit the apple in the roast pig's mouth, and the arrow and the apple were nailed to the wall behind.Everyone looked at me with puzzled eyes. "Thanks for watching," I said, and with a slight bow, I headed straight for the exit before they could announce it was over.

(End of this chapter)