I throw my axe with such force that it wedges itself in the dummy so much so that you can only see half of the axe tip. I smile, proud of myself. The axe landed smack dab in the middle of the chest, the target area. I look up at the Gamemakers to see if they were impressed, but to my dismay, they aren’t even looking. I set my jaw and glare at them, but they don’t even look at me. They’re too busy talking and eating whatever feast they have up there. Without even thinking, I throw down my axe and try to think what I should do to make the Gamemakers own their game. I’m not the best singer, but I am pretty good. Arbor’s told me so. We sing forbidden songs sometimes, in the woods. And before I can help it, I start to sing. “Are you, are you, coming to the tree? Where they strung up a mn, they say mrdrd three? Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met up at midnight… in the hanging tree.” I presume that my clear and determined voice has the intended effect on them, because every single one of them stops talking and shifts their gaze at yours truly. I continue singing, sealing my fate in the games but not at all caring. I don’t give a … about what they think. I need to get to the generator. And if I can’t, I’ll die trying. But winning would be a nice plus, too. I grab paint from the paint station and storm over to where my axe was planted in the dummy, still singing. My words that I paint on the dummy transform the Gamemakers faces from surprise, disbelief, anger, fury, and finally, I think fear. It’s not that they’re quaking in their boots or whatnot. I suspect they’re the startled kind of fear. The surprise kind of fear. Like, the “is there a rebellion?” alarming kind of fear. And I want to show them that, well, there is. “Now are you paying attention?” I ask sarcastically, staring daggers at the shocked Gamemakers. Boy, I hope Piper and Arbor’s sessions go alright. But I’m sure that I’ll get a 0. Is that even possible? The worst people have gotten is, I believe, a 3. I don’t know what he did in that session, but a victor from a few years ago named Haymitch or something got a 3. And everyone was shocked. I think I just knocked whatever he did right out of the park. Because they probably hated me. Did they? I bow and glare at the head Gamemaker. She glares at me with a passion as I walk briskly out of the room. The door opens for me and Peacekeepers accompany me out of the Training Room. I suppose they have to reset it for Arbor and the rest of the tributes left. Good luck with that. Only as I’m in the hallway do I take in what I’ve just done. I literally am going to die in the worst way possible after this. I know there will be consequences for being a rebel. But I’ll face them. And we have things to prove to them. They will not play me. And they will not use me. Because I just “killed” President Snow. Even if it was just on a dummy. And that says something.
