Confusion is a train that’s lost its tracks; otherwise known as my mind, as it is full of one hundred different thoughts at this moment in time. “What could I possibly send to Gerome Washingbeard the VII that will help him survive these deadly games?” I said to myself, deep in thought. “Oh, I got it! I will send him a few of the calming leaves from my backyard.” They are known to grow only in district 10, and to heal any type of scrape, broken bone, discomfort, or anything when wrapped around the wound. Gerome will definitely be seeing some battles in the next day or two, considering who the gamemakers are this year, and what they are capable of doing. If they decide to have a feast, it will definitely attract Gerome; he is one for the food because of how much of a shortage we have right now here in district 10.

Walking through the green, untrimmed grass in my backyard tickles my bruised feet. All of the work with the animals over the years has caused me to have blisters everywhere possible, including my heels and toes. I swiftly walk over to the bush that grows the vibrant orange calming leaves. Rummaging through the overgrown bush, I find the roundest, thickest, most colorful leaves I can reach. “One, two, three, four, five.” I hum to myself. Just enough to last him a few days, considering the games will be over once the gamemakers get a handle on it. Wrapping them in a moist cloth, I tuck them into my bag, and walk to the local post office.

When I drop it off and tell the mailman that it is for a tribute in the Hunger Games, he drops it down a shoot, which triggers my feet to rush me back home. Adjusting the television wires takes a little while, since I do not use it unless the games are on. Right when the screen flickers from black to colors, I see the silver parachute float calmly onto Gerome’s sleepy chest. He wakes happily and smiles to the sky when he finds what’s inside. “Thank you,” he mouths.