The 33rd Hunger Games

Tamar Mamet and her own brother, battle it out to become the last one standing.


8. 8)

Sat alone in my room, I began to think over the whole situation; they can't kick out a tribute now, at such a late stage in the Games, can they? It's not like I meant to throw that knife at them. I don't think I even saw where it landed. There was a few screams, but I didn't see any paramedics. I don't think.

Eventually, I joined Omarion and my father at the TV at night. They were obviously waiting to see what we got scores wise, but I'm not going to get anything good. Omarion was very eager to see what he got, so maybe he thinks he did really well. Thinking about myself all the time. I didn't stop to think about him or what he got.

The anthem began to play, and District 1's score was put up. All of the Careers got between 6 and 10. Eartha got an 8, which was surprising, since she was from 3. Tetra got a 10! I wonder what he did... Sunddenly it was our district's turn. Omarion's name was called and then a number 9 was flashed. He almost screamed with delight. It got much worse. My name was called and then a number 12 was flashed.

Seriously? I don't think a 12 year old has ever gotten a 12 before. Or ever will. It must have been a fluke. Omarion saw the number and skulked off into his room, muttering something about 'cheat' and 'favourtism'. My father beamed with happiness. His two children had achieved some of the top scores. It's bad for me. I'm the one that's going to be hunted because of a 12 score, not them.

Now, I lay awake on my bed, thinking about what will actually happen during my interview. Hopefully, I will just come across cute and look timid. My dress will hopefully be at least something of good material. I wish it to be green and sparkly or light and fluffy. Jamal told us we'd have four hours with each person tomorrow.

This morning, my father said I would be with him first. We spent the four hours working on what angle I should play. My father asked the questions, and I would answer them in whatever role I would like to play.

"How are you enjoying the Capitol?" my father asked, mimicing Masto Keru's accent. He's the presenter when we do the interviews. He tries to make every tribute feel special, making jokes and smiling all the time. Like all the presenters, he changes his hair every year. Last year, his hair was bright orange. It was so blinding, I could barely watch the screen. According to my father, it's a dark red this year. Better than illuminous orange.

After a few hours of questions, my father was happy with how I could answer every question in every way possible. Then it was time for lunch. When we sat at our table, I could tell Omarion was upset with Jamal. The session must have gone really badly. I wonder what mine will be like.

Now I wish I could have stayed with Father. Jamal had me in the longest dress in Panem and the highest heels too. I could barely walk. I toppled over at least 10 times. He told me how to sit and talk and walk onto the stage. Jamal tried to make me speak in a Capitol accent, but I failed, because my 7 accent is too strong.

Just an hour before the interview, now, I begin to get nervous. Lertimer has dressed me in a white, floaty dress. It looks like a child's dress, as it is equipped with a pair of fairy wings. This is the angle my father wanted me to play. Omarion looked like a real man. He wore a 'penguin' like suit. It was completed with a little black bowtie.

Suddenly, I could hear the loud roar of the crowds. Masto warmed the crowd up with a few jokes and then welcomed the first girl from 1. Her golden dress was a lot prettier than mine. Eartha's dress was.... well... it was grey. Tetra's suit was nice- it had a red bowtie instead of black.

It was my turn, all of a sudden. Masto called out my name and I bounced out onto the stage. I heard the audience gasp. Some cried, some cheered. They were shocked and angered that a 12 year old is allowed to participate in the Games.

"So," Masto said, with a warming smile. "How did it feel when your brother volunteered for that young lad?"

"I was scared that two twelve year olds, from the same District, would die. He is my friend, my best friend, but he can't compete with my own brother."

The crowd fell silent.

"Wow. Ok, then, does it help having your father as your mentor?" Masto asked.

"No, not really. He is sad all of the time, knowing at least only one of his children will come out alive. Our other brother, Abel, was old enough to volunteer, but didn't."

"Your father must be upset then. At least, when he comes home, he will have his wife and one son at home. Right?"

"No, Masto. Just a son. Our mother died in 2104."

There was a loud chorus of 'Awwwwwww' from the audience.

I never thought about our family like this: my mother died while I was young; my father was in the Hunger Games; me and my brother were also in the Games. Unlucky family.

"Good luck in the Games, young one. Give a massive cheer to Tamar Mamet!"

The crowd burst into applause. There were whistles and screams and shouts and cheers. Masto then called on my brother. I believe he must've looked handsome, but there was lots of cheering and screaming. He took his seat and grinned.

"Your little sister was just up here. Do you think she's handling it well?"

"Tamar? She's fine. She knows what she's doing. I'm going to help her to win. That's why I volunteered. To save her friend."

Masto looked surprised; "Yes. How's your relationship with your father?"

I could see Omarion's face turn cold. Silently, he got up and left the stage. Masto was scared and the audience went into a riot; no one left the stage before their time was up. Everyone became confused, so they just moved on to the District 8 girl. She didn't look too pleased.

After our District was done, we were allowed to go back to our suite. On the ride up, in the lift, Omarion stayed silent. So did my father. Maybe something did happen, a long time a go, when mother died.




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