/splish… splish/ It was days like these Rett was grateful for his big ears. They flopped around his fuzzy head, sheltering him from the jarring cold. He turned his head upwards and glanced across the sky, wondering if the helicopter was still around. It wasn't. In fact, it seemed to be long gone. The only traces it left behind were some puffy clouds of smoke. Rett sighed. Oh well, he didn't expect less. This was The Hunger Games, after all. As he trudged through the snow, trying to figure out where the heck he was going, he started to feel a warm aroma from his left. He turned his body forward and took in the air. "Jackpot" He mumbled. The tom started bloting towards the water, excited to show off his newly-found swimming skills. Rett jumped in, and never in his life did he regret anything more. Immediately out of his mouth came some not-so-gracious words, and he started panting for his life, the water feeling like he had been electrocuted. Before he was able to get out, however, a leaf fell onto his head and drew his attention towards a small whirlpool in the middle of the lake. Rett was promptly reminded of a hot tub, and the stinging feeling he got from the hot water started to fade away as he dreamt of his fantasies. He started doggie-paddling towards the whirlpool, the heat of the water being replaced by tickly bubbles. By the time he reached the middle, the jarring heat had seemed to vanish, the wonder of the whirlpool taking over his discomfort. Rett looked into the whirlpool deeply. He couldn’t help but be mesmerized by its bubbles. Ever since he had gotten to the Games, he has appreciated water and its beauty more and more, his daily swims helping fuel that interest. Thus, he had the perfect answer to the first question he was presented with during his interview: “What is your favorite part of the Capitol?” Rett chuckles. “Well,” he began. “The water of course. You all saw how I swam here.” He realized there was no audience with him and winced. Only some cameras. Rett brought his attention back to the whirlpool. Another question had appeared: "Rett, how do you cope with the fact that there is only a 1 in 60 chance of you winning the Games?" Rett's ears drooped. The truth was, he didn't cope. In fact, he hardly thought about how close death was. Most of his time had been spent making friends and focusing on the game. "Um." He stuttered. "Well, I just use... statistics, you know?" He lied. "Statistics?" One of the cameramen was confused. "What do you mean?" "Well," Rett let out a shaky breath. "If you think about it, then 1 in 60 could turn into 2 in 120 and 6 in 360 and so on and so forth. The top number gets bigger and..it makes you feel bigger." "So does the bottom one." The cameraman chuckled. "Someone hasn't worked on their math for a while." Rett was ashamed to admit he had, in fact, almost flunked his math classes. "Well, you didn't have to bring that up." He snarled at the cameraman, who took a step back. Rett stopped to breathe. He couldn't lose it here at his interviews. This was the final chance he had to prove to the Capitol he was worthy. He brought his mind down to the water, its rick, cool feel on his toes. As he breathed and reflected, the final question appeared. "I drew you a picture! Also, do you know that you might die soon?" The picture looked like it has been scrawled onto a sheet of toilet paper by a five-year-old. But, Rett didn't care. He was focused on the question. "What is it with all these STATISTICS?" He kicked some water up, and it flew into his eye. Rett had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from yelling. He could taste the bl00d. "I-I mean." It trickled out of his mouth and down to the water, creating a purple tint near his feet. "I answered my last question, so you get it." As he spoke, the whirlpool disappeared. The water started to burn again, and Rett ran out and back into the snow. He counted statistics in his head to prevent himself from breaking down into a stress attack. 1 in 60. 2 in 120. 3 in 180. 6 in 360. It didn't help. Did statistics help? Would anything help him survive the Hunger Games?
