Jet Blake (16 years old)

It wasn't long after Dad left my office that I resumed watching the previous Hunger Games. I stayed up the whole night, and almost the whole day watching Games after Games, writing down things that were the most action packed in each. The 75th Hunger Games did have an interesting clock mechanism, that some of them found out about, but out of all the things on my list of things to pull on the tributes, that clock is one of the lower ones. However, just as I make it to the 74th Hunger Games, a knock comes at my door.

I quickly perk up. I smooth my shirt out and push back my unmanageable hair, even though a couple of curls still pop back in front of my face. Another knock comes from the door. I clear my throat to hopefully make it so my voice doesn't crack when I greet whoever is at the door. I hurry over to the door, opening it, before being greeted by air. No one was there. It was curious. I look down the hall that leads to my office, and see no one. Absolutely no one. I didn't even think that anyone could run down the hall that fast. I shrug before I turn back towards the interior of the office.

I feel a grumble from my stomach and I realize I hadn't eaten in hours. Slowly I make my way down the hallway, ride down the elevator and arrive at the Gamekeepers' dining room. Apparently, my arrival caught the eyes of a few Gamekeepers and the one Avox in the room, but I ignored their stares. I slowly sat down, ordered an Avox to bring me my food and waited the few short minutes for the food to be catered to me.

"I don't think he's up to the challenge," one of the older Gamekeepers whispered, thinking that I was incapable of hearing him talk.

"Would you like to do his job?" another Gamekeeper scoffed leaning into the first one, trying to keep their conversation secret. The idiots didn't even realize that I could hear every word they were saying.

"Of course not! But if this year doesn't turn out well, the Capitol may treat him like the one last year," the first one whispered back. Last year's Gamekeeper was not a favorite in the Capitol, obviously. He couldn't walk around the Capitol without being insulted or sometimes nearly attacked. It drove the poor man to suicide. I really hope that I won't repeat his mistakes. The Avox delivered my food at this time, but I didn't touch it, more interested in what those two other Gamekeepers were saying.

"He's the president's son; maybe they would impeach the president," the other one suggested. I clenched my fist. If that happened, mother would never forgive me. It's bad enough that Dad went crazy, but if she loses her job because of me...

I stood up and hurried from the room, not looking back, nor caring if anyone was watching me. I couldn't let myself get distracted by things as petty as eating. I had to make this a good Hunger Games everyone would remember forever. It was hard enough I had to design something good enough to house 72 tributes, keep everyone interested until the victors came out, and make it a good Quarter Quell.

I hurried into my room, shutting the door quickly behind me, before grabbing my remote and beginning the 74th Hunger Games tapes. However, no sooner is the District 1 tributes reaped, as a knock comes from the door. I ignore it, but soon another knock comes. And then another. By the time I get to District 5, I'm fed up, and I pause the tape. I nearly throw my remote onto my desk before I walk over to the door. I jerk the door open, and no one is on the other side.

I shake my head and I turn back to my office, closing the door behind me. Just as I reach my desk again, I hear another knock. Now I am getting really angry. I walk back over to my door, and jerk it open once more.

"Who's there?" I ask, trying not to yell. I walk out of the doorway to look around. Suddenly I feel something heavy land of me, making me fall to the ground, the weight centered on my back. I feel the cold of a blade against my throat and I realize what is happening. Luckily my arms weren't under the weight of what, or who, ever was on top of me, and I used my arms to pull the blade away from my throat, making a standstill where the blade wasn't getting any closer to my throat. I kick towards my head with my feet and manage to hit the large weight, catching it by surprise, knocking it forward. I scrambled to my feet and saw who my attacker was.

It was one of the Avox servants, the one who served me my food. I'm breathing hard, and I slowly back away from the Avox, who began getting up, recovered from my surprise kick. Before I'm ready, the Avox lunges at me with the small knife the woman possesses.

"Why?" I ask before barely dodging the swipe the Avox does to attack me, making me fall flat on my behind, hands on the ground, next to my desk. I peer at the inside leg of my desk, having an open front, spying something interesting. The Avox does some sort of laugh; I suppose that's what an Avox sounds like when it laughs, because it sure didn't sound like any laugh I had ever heard. The Avox slowly stalks towards me the small knife ready.

"I'm sorry," I say and the Avox looks slightly confused for a moment. I inch closer to the inside of the desk next to me, as the Avox comes closer, obviously trying to toy with me. "Please," I say before looking like I was about to cry, "I'm only a kid." The Avox stops and looks at me with a sad frown before shaking her head. I was acting of course. Just a little bit closer until I can reach it.

The Avox moves quickly this time, but I'm quicker. I pull the emergency firearm out from under my desk, pulling the trigger, just before the woman is able to get to me. I nearly collapse, but I'm still in danger, as she is really still alive. I pull the trigger a few more times, before I relax and watch the Avox woman fall, almost right on top of me, the small knife stabbing me in the leg. I yell in pain, but I don't let the little wound discourage me. I shove the dead woman off of me, and slowly work on pulling the knife out.

As soon as the knife is out, blood begins to pour out. I keep my hands on the wound and slowly scoot across the room towards the alarm. I reach up with my bloodied hand and press the button, and await someone to take care of me.

It isn't long after that the Peacekeepers came and patched me up pretty quickly. They said that I would feel a bit sore in my leg for a bit, but I would heal just fine. I simply agreed and tried to get everyone out quickly. Apparently death threats were quite common with the Head Gamekeepers, and in fact a few times before other Gamekeepers tried to kill the Head Gamekeeper for his job. Luckily, I didn't have to sweat that. I would've loved if one of the others took my job, though not now. I like my job.

I sat at my desk making it to the 70th Hunger Games finally. However, I am interrupted once more by a knock at my door. I pick up the firearm from beneath the desk and slowly make it to the door. They weren't kidding when they said I'd be sore for awhile; my leg hurt. I opened the door, holding the firearm at the ready, pointing it at whoever was behind the door.

"Mom?" I asked, dropping my arm to my side. She raised an eyebrow, and I cleared my throat. "Sorry, I meant, President Blake? What are you doing here?"

"That's better," she said making her way into my office, "I'm here to make sure you're fine after the... ah... incident before."

"I'm fine. Great actually," I say nervously looking up at the intimidating face of my mother. She looks nothing like me. She has really large bones, making her look bigger than most women, and shoulder length strawberry blonde hair. She's wearing her uniform, as she is the president, and looks positively stiff, as if she were a board. I hate everything about her, especially that scowl she gets on her face when I call her mother, but I deal with it. I want to make her proud of me still.

"Good," my mother replies, "I also have heard reports that you haven't eaten lately. The Gamekeepers are worried that their Head Gamekeeper won't be ready when the time comes."

"I'll be fine," I insist.

"Just make sure you report for every meal, or from now on, you'll be found and forced to come; we'll assume you've gone missing," The president states looking at me.

"Yes, mam," I reply.

"I will see you later, then, Mr. Blake," my mother says, walking out of my office, closing the door behind her. I want to think that she is making me eat because she's worried about, but I know that's not it. She just needs someone to run the Games. I'm only her tool; she needs to make sure her tool is well oiled and ready to go. I'm ready to be her tool. But I won't be a tool forever.

Ok, last Jet update until the tribute chapters start. I thought to ask all of my
readers if they would prefer if I start after the reapings, or after, and if after
when. I'll start the tribute chapters soon, I promise!