First Paragraph
I feel the cold metal in my hand, lining it up with the moving target form of a human I throw. I hit right in the heart I can hear my trainer, Patricia congratulating me. I ignore it, I always hit my target. At least I have for the last 2 years. I got to the advanced level before anyone else, most people in here are 16-18, I’m 15 and I’ve been in this level for 1 ½ years. Knives are my specialty, aiming for me is easy with a knife. I love the feeling of holding them in my hand and the happy feeling that comes after I hit my target. The reaping for the Hunger Games is tomorrow, I like to consider myself ready, because well, I am like a prodigy with my amazing knife skills. I am also good with pretty much every other weapon, except for the bow. Not many people in my district use the bow, who would want to shoot someone when they could just as easily chop off their head? The bow bothers me a lot, I mean it’s like a knife kind of, but you can use them from a longer distance. I’ve never been good with them though, so when I was 13 I decided to stop trying with it and concentrate on perfecting my skill with other weapons. I’ve been training all my life for the Hunger Games, as all the other people in my district have been. District 2 is the district with the most victors, then comes 1 then comes 4. The poorer districts have a nick name for us, the ‘careers’ since we train for the Games. It’s against the rules for people to train for the games, but the capitol turns a blind eye on us. We are their favorites, and as long as we give the people living their entertainment why would they stop us? Sometimes I fear my district is a little too morbid, I mean they seem to love blood and killing. I mean I do too, I was raised like that, but I’ve never killed someone, though sometimes I’m tempted to. I’m sure I could kill anyone in this room right now with just a flick of my wrist.
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