The 50th Death: Kendra
The games are different for me. They aren't supposed to be, but they are. No one else can know this, especially not the Capitol. Especially not the other tributes. And especially not the Game makers because knowing means death, and that is one thing that I cannot afford.
The outrageously dressed announcer looked at my scrawny body as I climbed onto the stage.
"We have our first tribute from District 11! Congratulations Kendra!" She cooed. The words echoed in my mind over and over again. This was a Quarter Quell. That meant that it would be even worse. That meant that there would be more of us. A lot more of us.
A few minutes later a boy tribute, a girl tribute, and I walked steadily down the hallway leading to the lavish rooms where we would await the final goodbye to our families and then be swiftly taken off to the dreaded Capitol. I sat there, stroking the pillow's soft surface until my brother, Seth, burst through the doors, running towards me. I received one of his rare hugs, and he started crying.
"You can't handle this. You can't! I should've gone. I'm so sorry! You're going to be fine, though. Right? Right!" Seth screamed at me, changing his opinion almost immediately, not wanting to offend me.
"Seth! I'll be fine…" I said, trying to calm myself more than him, but it didn't really work very well. He looked up at me with big eyes, opened his mouth to say something, but the doors clanged open again and our Grandpa stood in the opening, an eerie look painted on his face.
"Seth," He said. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but I have something quite vital to tell your sister. If you want her to live, you need to leave."
Seth looked on the brink of tears again, but he slowly left, walking as if he were a zombie, trying to fight his expressions from overtaking. As soon as he was out the door I realized that I hadn't said "Goodbye," or, "I love you." Now I would never have the chance, simply because I had been too shocked.
"Grandpa, why are you here?" I asked. It sounded rude as soon as I said it, but I never saw him and for him to take away what were probably my last minutes with my brother was cruel. Grandpa worked with making the Games so he was usually busy this time of the year, too. Yes, he was a Game maker. His son, upon visiting District 11, saw a pretty girl and left to join us. I couldn't blame him. From what he'd told us of Grandpa, he was not a nice man. Seth and I are orphans, however. Our father may have had the guts to come join our fields, but he still couldn't handle it and died around my 7th birthday. Our mother had also died a year earlier than him of an illness that had not been properly treated.
"I realize that you must be mad, Kendra, but if you want to survive this you must understand. You have an asset that you can and must use in the Games if you want to survive. You are Fairykind."
"What?" I said, knowing that he would not be joking with me in this kind of situation, but also not knowing how else to perceive his statement. Fairies don't exist. Do they?
"You are Fairykind and in the tournament you will have to use these powers to survive. Do you understand? There will be creatures there, mythical creatures. The others will think that they're just mutations, but they aren't and you must use this knowledge. You must." He shook his head. "If only I had more time. There's so much more I could have told you. So much more I needed to. I have to go soon, but I can tell you that you need to find the faeries once you get there and ask them. Ask them about what I've told you today. They will attack you at first, but you must simply say my name: Sorenson. The same as yours. They will understand you. That's all I can tell you. If they ask any questions just tell them that you're the granddaughter of Stan Sorenson. Now, I have to go, but may the odds be ever in your favor, Kendra.
"But how can-" And then he was gone. Gone from my view forever because apparently my only chance was to communicate with faeries. The guards escorted me out right behind Grandpa, who gave them a curt nod, and left. So much for a helpful family. Of course then again his son, my father, had abandoned him in the Capitol simply because he had spotted a girl, my mother, and came to live with us. He doesn't talk to us often because of that, but my father must have really hated his dad if he would have left that easily. I think I'm realizing why he hated him so much. He's psychotic, and mean. If he wants a show out of me, to make them think I'm crazy just for the Capitol. It's not below them…or him. It doesn't matter now, though, because I'm just going to go and die in the arena, hoping that some faerie will come and save me because, speaking truthfully, it's the only chance I have.