Four Weeks to Live
Friendship
I met Moss again the next day at the training center. We talked about our lives as we tested the different weapons together. He was quite good at handling a pick axe. I, on the other hand, had no real strengths with any of the weapons. I was much better at camo.
“I live in an area called the Seam.” He started. “It’s right at the edge of the district. It’s basically where you can starve to death in safety.”
“I’m near the middle of mine.” I said. “My father is a butcher. Nothing much happens. I guess I’ve had a pretty okay life, though.”
“That’s cool. I’m guessing you didn’t have to take any tesserae, then?” He asked.
“Yeah. I was only entered 6 times.” I replied. “I’m guessing you did?”
“Yup. I was in 48 times.” He smiled, as if it was no big deal in his District. Considering what he’d been telling me about 12, it probably wasn’t. Griffin joined us after a while and started talking with Moss about random things. He had his brilliantly fake smile on the entire time. He left after he saw that there was nothing he could do to get Moss to join his alliance. Moss turned to me and said
“I don’t like him much.”
“I don’t like him either.” I replied. We smiled at each other and worked our way towards the bow and arrows. He shot an arrow at a target across the room and missed horribly, almost taking off a career’s head. The career started yelling like crazy and Moss and I burst out laughing. I was starting to be glad that I was chosen as tribute. If I was going to die, at least I would have some fun before it happened.
After lunch, which we ate together again, he showed me how to use the pick axe. Apparently his father had been showing him how to use it after he came home from the mines each day, thinking it might help his son do better at the job he would eventually join him in. His father never thought that this would happen. Not to his son. Moss guided my hand in swinging the pick axe over my head and into the ground. It tore large cracks in the cement floor below us, joining the ones left by the careers from earlier in the day. He was still much better than me. I reminded myself that if it came down to the two of us, I would still have to kill him. Then I realized that neither of us would make it that far against the careers. I reasoned that, though the odds of us being the final two were extremely low, I wouldn’t hesitate. His death would be quick. I was then overpowered by the part of my brain that makes everything difficult. Feelings. I realized I could not, in fact, kill a boy I’d met a two days before. He was now a friend. I had feelings for my friend.
“I live in an area called the Seam.” He started. “It’s right at the edge of the district. It’s basically where you can starve to death in safety.”
“I’m near the middle of mine.” I said. “My father is a butcher. Nothing much happens. I guess I’ve had a pretty okay life, though.”
“That’s cool. I’m guessing you didn’t have to take any tesserae, then?” He asked.
“Yeah. I was only entered 6 times.” I replied. “I’m guessing you did?”
“Yup. I was in 48 times.” He smiled, as if it was no big deal in his District. Considering what he’d been telling me about 12, it probably wasn’t. Griffin joined us after a while and started talking with Moss about random things. He had his brilliantly fake smile on the entire time. He left after he saw that there was nothing he could do to get Moss to join his alliance. Moss turned to me and said
“I don’t like him much.”
“I don’t like him either.” I replied. We smiled at each other and worked our way towards the bow and arrows. He shot an arrow at a target across the room and missed horribly, almost taking off a career’s head. The career started yelling like crazy and Moss and I burst out laughing. I was starting to be glad that I was chosen as tribute. If I was going to die, at least I would have some fun before it happened.
After lunch, which we ate together again, he showed me how to use the pick axe. Apparently his father had been showing him how to use it after he came home from the mines each day, thinking it might help his son do better at the job he would eventually join him in. His father never thought that this would happen. Not to his son. Moss guided my hand in swinging the pick axe over my head and into the ground. It tore large cracks in the cement floor below us, joining the ones left by the careers from earlier in the day. He was still much better than me. I reminded myself that if it came down to the two of us, I would still have to kill him. Then I realized that neither of us would make it that far against the careers. I reasoned that, though the odds of us being the final two were extremely low, I wouldn’t hesitate. His death would be quick. I was then overpowered by the part of my brain that makes everything difficult. Feelings. I realized I could not, in fact, kill a boy I’d met a two days before. He was now a friend. I had feelings for my friend.