The Hunger Games (A One Direction Fanfiction)

I make my way back to my room. I half expect to lay awake all night fretting, letting in all the emotions that have been strangely absent so far, but when I lie down, I’m out almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I’ve always been a surprisingly good sleeper. I wake easily, but I can stay in that twilight place between dreams and reality for as long as I want. In the morning, I choose to stay and try to relive all my happy memories of childhood.

In fact, I don’t even get out of bed until well past noon, when our train arrives at the Capitol. I feel sluggish, and slightly sick to my stomach with fear. This is it. I am now officially a tribute in the Hunger Games.

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4. Chapter 4

Ina's POV

The next morning I wake up feeling more tired than when I went to sleep. This prospect disturbs me, because the only cure for this lethargy is several more hours of sleep, and I wont have a chance for that in the arena. Every moment that I give into exhaustion will be an opportunity to get my throat slit.

I miss breakfast, and Tina nearly has to drag me out of bed. I manage to dress myself, and make my way to the elevator. Dean and Hannah are nowhere to be found. Tina is angry, and Frazer is sympathetic.

“Rough night?” he asks softly. I shrug in answer. I know that he would understand better than anyone else, but I don’t want him to think that I’m weak. He won’t want a weak ally in the arena, and if I don’t have him, I probably won’t last more than a few days, if not a few seconds, into the Games.

Most of the other tributes are already waiting at the underground level that serves as the training gym. Frazer and I allow large number ones to be pinned to our shirts, then stand, waiting with the crowd.

District Three is the last to arrive. The girl staggers in, looking rather lost, but the golden skinned boy is more reserved, quietly taking his place. He doesn't make eye contact with anyone or acknowledge or presence, instead preferring to keep his large dark eyes fixed on some imaginary point in the distance.

The head trainer takes her place in the center of the circle of tributes, and begins to tell us the rules. Then she lets us go and explore the stations, which are a mix of survival and fighting training.

I don’t know where to start. Looking at everyone around me, I feel nervous, but not as afraid as I thought I would be. There are several very athletic tributes, more than usual, I think, but there are also some who look as though they can barely keep to their feet. I watch as the boy from Twelve struggles to pick up a sword. There are others, who don’t look starved, but still seem as though they wouldn't be able to hurt a fly. The girl from Two- I think her names is Eleanor- is all smiles and cheerful greetings. Her attire is bright and colorful, and her attitude seems to match. I mark her off as an easy target, until she begins to spar with the trainer at the hand-to-hand combat station, and he is unable to land a single blow. I walk closer, drawn by the way she moves; it makes everything else seem like it’s going at half speed. She disables the trainer with a few quick punches to the upper body.

“Ina,” I start slightly. Frazer is beside me, “I am going to try and make some friends, okay? Why don’t you start at a survival station?”

I shrug to show my acceptance of his plan and make my way over to the knot tying station. The little twelve-year-old girl from Eight is already there. She seems to be enjoying herself, making quick work of all the knots the trainer is showing her.

The trainer shows me some basic snares, and lets me try them. I struggle with a complex noose-like trap until the girl from Eight leans over and finishes the knot for me. I glance over at her, and can’t help but smile at her earnest grin. She looks pleased that I am happy with her help.

“I’m Lisa,” she says. Her voice is so soft and childlike, but it has a melodic quality that instantly tells me she is a singer.

We work together for a while in silence, and when I leave, she follows me to the next few stations; poisonous plants, fire starting, and shelter building. We give each other little pointers and tips, and even though I know that liking this little girl will lead no where good, I cant help it.

At some point, Frazer comes and pulls me away from my half built shelter, “We should do some combat training too.”

I can tell that she wants to talk to me alone, so I say good-bye to Lisa and let her lead me away. Lisa waves despondently, her wild mane of curls making her look for all the world like a forlorn rose.

During lunch, Frazer and I sit alone. She tells me that she has spoken to a few other tributes, and that she is considering District Two as allies. I eat and let her talk. I have no better ideas anyway, so I figure that I might as well go along with it.

The rest of the afternoon is spent with weapons. Frazer stays with me this time. We practice with knives, since that is usually the most common tool in the arena. Frazer is pretty good. I am adequate.

I sleep soundly through the night, from sheer physical exhaustion.

The next day of training flies by. Frazer introduces me to District Two. The boy, Zayn, is funny and quite intelligent. He doesn’t talk much, seeming to prefer complete focus on the task at hand. His counterpart, the skinny, brown haired girl I had seen earlier, Eleanor, is really snarky. Her hazel eyes glimmer with a mischievous twinkle. She offers to show me how to properly throw a spear, and I let her. I manage to get one in the center ring of the target on my third try. I've used spears before, at the Training Camp in District One, and I was pretty good. But not good enough, I guess, because I was eliminated as a possible volunteer. Eleanor cheers at my success and wraps me in a tight hug that nearly lifts me off the floor. She is quite a lot stronger than she looks. Zayn is very formidable with a sword, and I make a mental note to not get onto his bad side.

For the first time, I notice the Gamemakers. Their attention wavers back and forth between the extravagant food lain out before them, and us. I try not to let it bother me, but I hate feeling like I am being watched. Which sucks, because in a few days, I am going to be watched constantly. Unless I die, but, unsurprisingly, that brings no comfort.

Frazer and I sit with Zayn and Eleanor. Eleanor is all smiles and jokes, and I have to admire her attitude. She seems confident. Unlike me. The more I see of my competitors, the more I can feel my chances of survival slipping away from me. everyone seems to have at least one skill that will transfer over in the arena, and I have nothing.

Eleanor pokes me in the shoulder, “Why so glum, snowflake?”

I wince at my nickname. It just sounds so childish, especially around all of these people who can handle deadly weapons as easy as breathing. I think Zayn laughs, but I’m not sure. I shrug in answer, not wanting to reveal just how much I am freaking out.

Frazer plays with his food. “I think we should try and recruit District Nine.”

Eleanor and Zayn both nod in agreement. I go along with it, trusting Frazer's judgment, but I have a bad feeling about them. The boy is ruthless. We have all seen him during training, and he really scares me. I don’t want to team up with him because I have to no doubt that I would get a knife in the back as soon as he had no further use for me. The girl hasn't made much of an impression yet.

Frazer and District Two spend the afternoon trying to recruit the boy from Nine. I let them, and wander off, observing some of the other tributes, wanting to get a better feel for my competition.

I am watching the boy from Eleven shoot archery with unnerving skill when I feel someone watching me. I look up, and I meet a pair of brilliant brown eyes. The boy from Three is standing alone, leaning against the wall, staring at me. I turn quickly and speed away. As I glance over my shoulder –he’s still watching me- my forward progress is abruptly halted by a wall of muscle. I am almost knocked to the ground, but the boy I walked into catches me by the arm and holds me up.

He laughs, “Watch out, One. The best way to get yourself killed in the arena is to not pay attention.” He has light blond hair and pale blue eyes. Dressed in white, he comes off like a reverse shadow, pale and indistinct.

I step back from him, “Sorry.”

“I’m Niall.” he holds out his hand for me to shake. Instead, I study the large number four pinned to his jersey. He lowers his hand after a moment and continues to talk, “I see you caught Liam's eye,” he nods in the direction of Three, but he seems to have disappeared, “If we aren’t careful, he’ll be the death of all of us.”

I think that was an attempt at a joke, and let out a faint laugh, just in case, “He does seem like the sort who would go crazy and slowly peel your skin off of body and then laugh about it, doesn't he?”

“I think Nine fits that description a little better, to be honest.”

Niall laughs and gives me a little salute. 

“See you in the arena. If they don’t kill you first.” he winks at me and walks away.

Liam. The name suits him some how. I look around for him, thinking about introducing myself, but I am unable to locate him.

Liam's POV

I skid into the bathroom and the door swings shut behind me. I run over to the tap and rinse my face with the cool water. I glance in the mirror and sigh in relief as I notice that my dark circles have disappeared. Nobody would be intimidated by a boy who looks like he hasn't slept in years.

The water seems to have woken me up, as when I am out of the bathroom, I feel as fresh as ever.

I dive into the combat stations, taking my time to shoot arrows at the targets. I get perfect shots in all ten arrows, before deciding to try my hand at the array of knives sprawled out across the table. I manage to slice the target in under a minute, smiling to myself at my achievement. If any of the other tributes saw my performance, they probably wouldn't dare to come close to me. Perfect.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the girl from One. She seems lost, a look of confusion strewn over her face. I debate going up to her and introducing myself, but I figure that wouldn't be such a good idea. If I want to get out of here alive, I shouldn't be forming acquaintanceship with any of the other tributes. Instead, I decide to keep a low profile, standing in the shadows of the training area. 

Night falls, and I find myself thinking about her as I drift off into a steady sleep.

Ina's POV

The next day of training, me and Frazer train together, just the two of us, in the morning. I keep an eye out for Liam. He seems to be quite athletic, never wasting movement. He is the perfect definition of precision and deadly ability. Just like an executioner.

During lunch, while we wait for our private sessions to begin, everyone is quiet.

Being the girl  from District One, I am second. I have no idea what Frazer had performed in his session, but I don’t doubt that it will be impressive. At least I don’t have to follow that. My name is called after his session, and I hear a few murmured ‘good luck’s' as I make my way to the central gym.

The Gamemakers are alert and attentive. As I am the second to perform today, they still haven’t had a chance to get bored and drunk yet.

I stand still for a moment, unsure of what to do. The Head Gamemaker motions for me to go, and I hesitantly move towards a rack of spears.

I pick one up and test the balance. It’s a fine weapon, but somehow, I doubt that they will find this that impressive. I carefully replace it on the rack. What else can I do? Then it comes to me. I am an excellent runner, and I’m pretty agile. I take off before I can give myself another chance to think, and launch myself off of a crate of knives. I roll when I hit the ground, and then continue to run and leap and climb. My climbing has gotten me into quite a bit of trouble at home, because I tend to end up in places that I am not supposed to be. I continue to dart around the gym until the Gamemakers tell me that they've seen enough and that I can go.

I’m not sure it was good, but it was definitely different. As I leave the room, I find myself wondering what the boy from Three, Liam, will do. Something impressive and athletic, no doubt, something much better than running and scrambling up the walls like a deranged spider. I palm the button on the elevator, slightly disappointed in myself that I hadn't done something better. Well, at least all of the other tributes will have a low bar to jump over.

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A/N: See if you can figure out who some of the other tributes are :) Don't worry, I’ll post a list of tributes later on in the story. 

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