No Peace for the Wicked

Later

I kept wondering when the hunger games would start. I'm going in and it's too late now. Now I'm here. In the train. Feeling like deja vu. I looked over to Ren, the other tribute - no a victor. He says I'm not a "real Career". He says I'm a wuss because I don't enjoy killing people as much as Careers. Honestly? It's really not surprising. For him it isn't. He won quite a while ago, and I bet he's bloodthirsty in the hunger games he won in; I can tell just by his - snarky ness.

"Gosh! You have to get along with me; you know that! Do you want sponsors?"

"Well I think they'd know how I'd feel because I'm dealing with a teenage brat!" he's forty-five and he's saying that. "And you know you're not going to win." I looked at him, confused, "You don't know? President Snow is going to mare it horrid for you. The Victors hate you. They wanted Maaden to win, for one thing, and, you just let everyone else care for you. Fugy? He saved you a lot. And you just let him die. That's why District four hates you. It was Fugy and Alla!" I wanted to protest, but I needed to know this. "District two still thinks you're a wimp. Same with District one. District three - they hate you because Trisha's dad was the Mayor. And everyone loved her. District five - well I really hope you're not that dumb. Misha and Deln. District seven doesn't like you because of when you messed with Killer." I was pretty upset. That means I probably won't be with the Careers (which isn't all bad . . .) and if they don't like me, they'll hunt me.

Maybe I should think more . . . "Ren." I said.

He looked at me like a piece of trash and said, "What?"

"If you really want to make me mad, do it in the arena. It won't work out well." I finally have it out.

"Wait till training, I won't stop to think that I shouldn't kill you then," he snarled.

When we went to bed that day, I kept hearing the words through me.