Holy cats, 148 views in three weeks for How to Save a Life? Non vi credo!
For il mio quinto fanfiction, Peeta joins the Careers. I'm following the book, but using the physical appearances of the tributes to help me out (Tara Macken as Marina, the Four girl. And yes, her name is Marina, I looked it up on Wikipedia).
Also, I said I try to avoid chapter fanfics, but this one is an experiment for me; I'm challenging myself to write more than five, six thousand words, and break them up into small sections so it doesn't feel like anyone is trying to swallow an apple whole.
Non proprio The Hunger Games, e nè Katniss nè Peeta nè niente che ha scritto Suzanne Collins (perché siete probabilmente noiosi con i disclaimer in inglese).
It's only the sound of my footsteps crunching on leaves and twigs that tell me I'm still alive.
Everything happened so fast. I watched Katniss position herself on her pedestal to sprint over to the only bow and arrow set. She glanced up at me for a brief second, but it's long enough for her to see me shake my head.
Don't.
Then the gong rang out, and I took off, passing tributes and weapons alike. I whipped my head around frantically as I ran, searching for any immediate threats; that girl from Two was as accurate with her knives as Katniss was with her bow and arrows. I've seen countless of her squirrels, each with a punctured eye. However, I'm somewhat reassured by the fact that only little Rue from Eleven was fleeing the Cornucopia. That there were twenty two tributes focusing on each other. That reassurance vanished when I remembered Katniss. She probably thought she could seize the bow and arrows, and took a chance. I wanted to turn and help her, but I had to stick with my plan; it was the only way to protect her.
Now, I sprint as fast and far as I can, hiding in bushes or behind trees to catch my breath for a few seconds, just enough to control my breathing, then push further on. Whenever I hear something suspicious, a squeal, a branch breaking, I veer away from the noise in the opposite direction. Since I had grabbed nothing, just ran for safety, I wasn't weighed down. My black jacket, lined with fur on the inside to trap body heat, yet covered with a lightweight material. It's pretty handy in camouflaging me at night, but in the day, I may as well carry one of those bright orange backpacks at the Cornucopia.
More footsteps come on my left. My ears have just registered the threat of a possibly armed tribute when I turn and dive into the nearest bush. For my plan to work, I'd need to approach the Careers when they are more relaxed. More willing to listen. Or more willing to torture me to death.
More twigs snap, and a figure rushes past my hiding spot. Her curly light red hair, her pale skin, and size tell me it's not Katniss. The girl's erratic, heavy breathing gives away the fact that she's as terrified as I am of the constant threat of death.
I judge it to be about an hour since the Games began. I peer cautiously over the bushes and run in the opposite direction the girl came from. Back to the Cornucopia. I want to get caught by the Careers and explain that I want to join them. That Katniss does not love me back, which isn't a complete lie, and her death would be the perfect form of revenge. That is, if she's not dead. This will seem treacherous to the people of District Twelve, who view the well fed, pompous tributes of One, Two, and Four as sadistic. I'm hoping that people will fully buy the star crossed lovers act when I double cross them. I would need to hurry; if I can't find the Careers, my demise promises to be quick and without warning.
The strong stench of blood assaults my nose, telling me that I must be close to the Cornucopia. I slow my pace; to lose my way now could be disastrous for me and Katniss.
"You lost her? I thought you never 'miss a target!'"
My heart leaps into my throat as I hear the blond brute from District Two yelling at someone. Quickly, I hit the ground and creep my way around to get a better view of the Career camp
"If she didn't have that stupid backpack with her, she would've been dead!" A girl, probably the one from Two, retorts angrily. So Katniss is alive. My stomach unclenches itself, and I'm able to listen better.
"And Lover Boy's still out there! Twelve actually has a chance this year, with her eleven!" While the kids from Two argue, the others, both from One and the girl from Four, are gathering leftover supplies, totally oblivious to their victims' staring faces, their blank eyes. I slide behind the base of a large tree and slowly ease my way up so my back is against the rough bark, my ear as close to the voices as I dare without risking being spotted. Carefully, I move my head so one eye is peeking out from behind my hiding spot.
"Clove helped us kill about half the competition, Cato. We'll kill Twelve just like the rest." The blond girl from One rejoins the Two kids, whose names I now know are Cato and Clove, carrying blood splattered backpacks, unused weapons, and unopened crates. Her smile is different from the interviews last night; while she appeared sexy and flirtatious then, she looks sadistic and bloodthirsty now. Her green eyes glimmer with arrogance.
"Whatever. I'll enjoy her dying. Her poor little sister. Hey!" My stomach jumps, legs tense and ready to run, but I ease back against the tree at Cato's next words, which seem to address the girl from Four, whom I heard was named Marina. "You and Marvel almost done getting those supplies?"
"Had to break a few bones, but we got the rest of them." Marina's words and callous tone shake me to the core. District Four tributes are not as strong or as brutal as their counterparts from One and Two; rumor has it that they just train to survive, not for glory or wealth. This particular girl's attitude confirms the extent of the brutal nature of this year's Careers. A deadly killing machine. A crazy knife thrower. A flirtatious murderer. A guy who looks at the rest of us like a meal. And an unmerciful lapdog who no doubt is only with them to keep with tradition.
Yes, not the best place to end a chapter. No one wants to read a gazillion words in one sitting.
~daydreamer626