Friday, 25 May 2012
This is from Cato's point of view. It is about the training that the careers would receive before volunteering. I tried to show Cato as a confused child in some points to show the dystopian side better. Here it is!August 18, 2150Today is my fifth birthday. Father was very happy to enroll me in the Acadamy today. He says that it is like school, only for strong people. I don't really understand the difference, but Father says that I will make him very proud.September 9, 2150Today was my first day at the Academy. We watched films today on the wall-screen. The instructor said that we are fortunate to have this technology because only the best Districts get those kinds of gifts from the Captiol. The films were about the Dark Days. I already knew all about it from the stories my Father told of when his father fought for the Capitol. My instructor was very happy with me.November 15, 2150We have been learning a lot at the Academy. Our current lessons are on finding and purifying water. Later we can learn about camouflage. The instructors say we should look forward to Spring, when we can learn about nature hands-on.My neighbor says that he is learning about reading at the District school. When I asked Father why we didn't learn about that at the Academy, he got angry with me. He told me not to think about the school and that only the weak children go there. He expects more from his only son.May 1, 2151To celebrate May Day, the instructors took all of the Academy pupils out to the woods today. I have never been in the woods before. We learned about what plants we could and couldn't eat. One boy got really sick, but no one seemed to care. When one girl named Clove tried to help him, she was scolded. Instructor said to always keep your own best interest in mind.September 9, 2151Today I start my second year at the Academy. I am more nervous this year. I walked into the wrong classroom this morning. It was filled with older kids, the ones who are eligible for the games. The instructor was mean and scary. She was assigning kids to partners for fighting.I don't want to fight.My instructor says our class will be taking a field trip next week to the woods. We will be expected to fend for ourselves for a week. I'm not excited, but father tells me to do my best and make him proud.
September 17, 2151
September 9, 2157
I am twelve this year. At the Academy, this is sort of a big deal. I suppose it would be the equivalent of entering High School for the other kids. The weak kids, as Father would say. We learn to spar, we train with a variety of weapons. We take tests on what we have already learned in previous years. Every-other month, we spend a week by ourselves in the woods without any resources. My father takes this schooling more serious now. He talks to my instructors and makes sure I stay at the top of my class.
I am starting to resent my father.
September 9, 2160
I am fifteen now. Our training is harder than ever before. I am assigned a partner for the year to fight with. Every day, we go against each other. We fight in enclosed spaces. Someone has to keep the other down for a minute. The loser is shamed. I never lose.
The instructors teach us where on the neck to cut someone. They show us how to snap someone's neck. My fighting partner and I become close friends. We help each other with tests and the occasional assignment. My father doesn't like him very much, and keeps telling me not to get too close to him. But I enjoy having a good friend.
September 17, 2161
On the first day of school, we were paired up with our fighting partners from last year. I'm glad to be with my friend again; it is a relief. Besides him, I have not been able to make many friends.
But after one week we were given some shocking news: we would be stimulating the real Games at the Academy. We would fight to the death with our partners. I tell my father about how upset I am, how unfair it is, and he gets angry. He hits me. He tells me that only the weak care about it, and he knows his son is better than that. So I suck it up.
September 19, 2161
I killed him. I might as well have killed myself.
I did not show up to the celebration afterwards. It would have made me sick. I knew that I would hear from my father, but I didn't care. I sat on the roof of the Academy and watched the festivities with anger.
Another student approached me. "I take it that you're angry that you won, too," was all that she said. I just nodded my head. She sat next to me in silence. After a long time, she introduced herself as Clove. I knew that name, she was at the top of the girls' class, as I was on top of the boys'. It was a very real possibility that we could fight together in the Games. She was a threat.
September 9, 2163
On the first day of my last year at the Academy, I am told that I will have to volunteer to represent District 2 at the 74th annual Hunger Games. All of the eighteen year olds hold a celebration in honor of me and the female volunteer. Of course, it is her. We sit together, we discuss strategy, we both give speeches about how honored we are. Later, we confide in each other about how much we hate each other.
I like her and do not look forward to having to slit her throat.
January 1, 2164
Today was the reaping. In District 2, no one is ever reaped. No one ever has any cause to worry. In a way, this twisted district is probably the safest for those outside of the Academy. Everyone is still accounted for and everyone's name is still in the bowl, but a name is never picked. Clove steps forward first, and everyone claps as she walks onto the stage.
Everyone waits for me to speak up. The poor, confused girl from the Capitol almost reaches into the bowl full of names before I speak up. "I volunteer!" I shout, the color draining from my face. I am thrust in front of many cameras, made to shake hands with Clove, and keep my cool the entire time.
I have never hated myself more.
Before I leave for the Capitol, my father says goodbye. He tells me that he shall surely see me again in a month's time. Then he says that he has never been more proud.
I realize that this is the moment that I hate myself the most. I have let somebody else take over my life and use me.
I have become a piece in these games.