May The Odds Ever Be In Your Favor!

Mestora Kaisey

Jaeze and the woman stop talking as I sit down.

"Uh, hi?"
Jaeze looks the other way. He still seems ticked.

"Okay" I mumble, "and you are?"

"Mestora Kaisey. And you are Alexandra Merimeth, correct?"
I shake my head no. I am shocked. Her body says she would be strong, for she is tall and built, but her voice suggests otherwise. It is faint, quiet, like a little girl's who is nervous about answers a question wrong.

"Leison."

"What?"

"My name isn't Alex Merimeth. It's Alex Leison." I emphasize the two last names. "Merimeth was my sister's friend's last name."

"Oh well, okay. What are you guys gonna do?" Mestora says.

"Die?" Jaeze mumbles. He finally resigns to face Mestora, but he refuses to so much as blink my way.

"Ah, good. You've all ready accepted that as an option."

"Option?" I echo.

"Anyways," she says, ignoring my question, "I don't mean in the arena. You guys should know that most of the fight is before you even see the Cornucopia." Jaeze and I wait expectantly for her to go on, but she remains silent. "Nothing!?" She suddenly barks. "You aren't going to have me in the arena, so you might want to start thinking for yourselves now." Her complete change in voice shocked us both. Jaeze and I both sat up straighter, and serious faces replaced our worn and tired ones. Being picked. Seeing crying friends and family. Leaving the only place you have ever seen.

It's exhausting.

"Uh, during the interviews and training sessions?" Jaeze says weakly.

"Correct!" Our mentor jumps up, making the chair slide across the tile floor on it's wheels. She begins pacing back and forth. "Now, what do we want to show our competitors?" I notice she says 'we' and 'our'. It just fills me with even more hope. Maybe I'll see Luke, the Twins, Silenna, Jellon, Smark, and Alysm again. Maybe. Probably not.

"That you are resourceful?" I say.

"You are fast?" Jaeze throws in.

"You are fierce?" I say.

"Yes, yes, yes. But there is more than the physical means of intimidation!" Her voice has lost the quietness. It is now demanding and confident like what seems appropriate for her. "You need to send them a message. You are strong. Not to be messed with. You are cunning. That," she emphasizes the word 'that' so hard, I have an instinct to cover my ears. I ignore it. "That, is what they fear. Being outsmarted. It makes them look weak. Foolish. Silly."

For knowing that I am going to be dead within the month, possibly so brutally that my family will have barely more than a box to bury, I feel intense. Ready. Well, as ready as a hopeless girl from District 7 can be.

"Okay, game-plan time. This is what we are going to do for the interview..."