Though it was a cold windy day, Desiree Hawkins was sweating profusely as she ran through the hallway after hallway, opening doors and looking through windows.
"First day and I'm late!" Desiree exclaimed after what seemed to be like the millionth door she had opened in the blasted building she was in.
With dark, unnaturally colored red hair, stringy as it was soaked with cool sweat and a somber expression on her pale face, Desiree threw herself on an office chair in the last room she had barged into. She was about an hour late for her first day on her new job. She was beginning to doubt that anyone in this building actually knew their way around. Rubbing her steely eyes in exhaustion, Desiree spotted a peculiar ball of light situated by the corner of the room.
The redhead lifted herself up to her feet that ached on heels she had been forced to wear for uniform. Her eyes followed the ray of light in heavy curiosity which led to a boarded window, only inches away from the ceiling. With a strange desire to reveal the covered window, Desiree reached for a stool at the corner of the office. Her heart pounding against her chest in excitement, she boost herself up once her foot was firmly placed on the wooden stool. Stretching her arms up, she managed to grip both sides of the wooden board with her slim fingers and had given enough strength to push it aside, resting on the window sill.
Eyes widening in absolute panic, Desiree hastily tried to cover the window up once again once she had caught a glimpse of the other side. Unfortunately, her trembling fingers let the board slip through and fall noisily on the ground of the office she was occupying. Frightened and anxious, Desiree took a sudden steps back, making her fall over and make more of a ruckus in the room. Her gasps of pain echoed and caught the attention of the gamemakers in the Control Room which was situated on the other side of the window.
The young woman on the floor could hear the emanding questions of the Head Gamemaker, Franco Creswell. More and more of his collagues took a peek at Desiree and she took in a sharp intake of breath when the scowling face of her boss appeared amidst the confused expressions of the others. Effortlessly, Franco yanked the window open.
"What the hell do you think you're doing in here?" he snarled grumpily as he took in Desiree position on the ground looking quite foolish herself.
"I–I couldn't find my way... I'm s–sorry, Mr. Creswell" Desiree stammered.
"I showed you the way to the control room three days ago!" Franco snapped, his temper tested by the poor twenty year-old. "If you want to keep your place as a gamemaker, you should learn to know your way here and never be late!"
Hurriedly, Desiree lifted herself up from the floor and patted on her clothes to make herslelf look at least remotely presentable. Keeping her head down from the piercing blue gaze of the Head, the twenty year-old gamemaker hastily brisked out of the office to find her way to the Control Room again.
Sighing irately, Franco Creswell turned his eyes away from the now empty office and back to the gamemakers who had been watching him scold Desiree Hawkins, the new gamemaker President Friselbee assigned last week. This was her first day for actual work on the Hunger Games and Franco absolutely hated latecomers.
"Well?" Franco snapped at the gamemakers who still gawked at the window. "What do you think you're doing? Back to work!"
The gamemakers hurriedly returned to their works on the arena then the glass door of the control room automatically opened, revealing a very tired and sweaty Desiree Hawkins standing outside on the hallway. If possible, her hair had gone completely haywire and messier than it had been a few moments ago. Her gray eyes were so full of panic as she awaited her boss' scolds once more, already aware of what he would be nagging about this time.
"I'm sorry for being late," she panted, stepping inside. "It won't happen again."
"It better not," Franco snapped. "We need all we have to complete this damn arena and the games start in a few days. All of our tributes are training and we aren't even done with the arena itself! Where do you think our arenas come from? Do you think they just pop up from the ground and form itself? No, Hawkins. We, gamemakers, make the arena and if we don't move our asses, we aren't going to finish and we will all be fired. Do you want to get fired before you even start?"
Desiree gulped and shook her head. Franco let a fake, sickly smile grow on his face.
"Brilliant," he said. "Now get to work."
"Who are you to be so nasty to my niece, Mr. Creswell?"
The whole control room was silenced. President Friselbee stood before the glass doors, no one actually noticing his entrance. His sleek white blonde hair flowed down his back in waves. His beard was neatly trimmed and his thin frameless spectacles perched on the bridge of his sharp nose. His hands rested in the pockets of his black slacks that matched his coat and tie. His eyes stared stonily into Franco Creswell's crystal blue ones.
"Your niece was late, President Friselbee," Franco replied rather bitterly, shooting a scornful look in the redhead's direction. Desiree inched behind her Uncle under the Head's gaze.
"She promises it would never happen again, am I right, Desiree?" President Friselbee pointedly lowered his head to piercingly stare into his niece's eyes.
"Yes, uncle," Desiree answered almost immediately, her voice no louder than a whisper.
"Very good," President Friselbee said with a satisfied smile before returning to speak with the Head Gamemaker. "I have here the profiles of all the tributes, Creswell. I need you to choose your best gamemakers for the tributes to impress after their training. Also, I want Desiree to be part of that group."
The blonde lifted his head up to stare disbelievingly at the President.
"President Friselbee, Desiree hardly has any experience with all this!" Franco exclaimed, trying not to sound so irritated for the sake of the President's presence in the Control Room. "She won't know what she's doing!"
"I assure you, my niece will do fantastic," President Friselbee said calmly, placing his right hand on the redhead's shoulder. "Now, I will leave you to read all the profiles so you will know who you will be looking at when you see them. Be wise, Franco Creswell. I did not put you in this position to disappoint me."
And this starts my story! Check out the blog here: ourlastdays52 . wordpress . com. Remove the spaces please! Enjoy the ride through the different tributes as they battle their way to victory In the 52nd Annual Hunger Games.