Sick
What were the Gamemakers thinking? Sure, the 34th Games were going a little slow. Seventeen tributes still left after the bloodbath, and only one more dying immediately afterwards. Accidentally, of course; she fell out of a tree. But their logic still doesn't stick with me.
The girl from 5 is awake now. So is the boy from 2.
They released the first blast about three days ago. Took out five of them within three hours. It was stronger then they'd anticipated, apparently. After all, they must have tested it on Capitol immune systems, not taking into account that the tributes were from districts that didn't have the same immunizations and healthy environments that the Capitol has to offer.
A cannon fires. It's the girl from 3. Didn't make it through the third blast. I didn't expect her to. Only two tributes left.
Those who made it through the first blast got hit by the second on the next morning. Same symptoms as the first day. Fever, headaches, dizziness. But the vomiting was new. This blast took out six. The tributes weren't even fighting anymore, just trying to survive. Most didn't. The tributes from 11 had the best shot, with their knowledge of herbs. But surprisingly, they couldn't find anything of use in the jungle-like arena. They died within an hour of each other.
The five tributes still alive spent the day of the second blast vomiting and crawling around. The boy and girl from 6 came across each other at sunset. His alliance was all dead, and she had been alone from the start. They teamed up. Tried to find some water. And they found it. But they forgot to use the iodine pill. Died in five minutes. Only five minutes.
The girl from 3 had the worst run, in my opinion. She didn't get as sick as the rest of the tributes after the first blast. But did she use the opportunity to kill off the rest of the sick kids? No. She found her partner and tried to nurse him back to health. And he died. Died in her arms. Any sanity she had died with him; she went crazy just before the second blast. I have to admit, it was a bit...unsettling watching her scream then vomit then scream and twitch then vomit. She was pretty much already gone by the time the third blast hit.
Blood. The third blast was everything the second blast was, with added blood. The sores, the vomit, everything. The three tributes that were left all went unconscious. Two woke up.
Somehow the girl from 5 and the boy from 2 knew they had to go to the Cornucopia. They crawled. Hands and feet. It took a full day.
They reached the horn the next morning. The girl actually ran into it with her head before she realized she was there. Clawed her way up to a standing position. Waited for the boy from 2. He showed up an hour later. His legs had given out, he was dragging...dragging himself forward with only his hands. He got to the other side of the horn. Pulled himself up too. His legs were wobbling like pasta, but he was up. Then they just stood there. Stared at each other. Stared. One day later, amazingly, they were still standing. And staring.
People in the Capitol were talking about the Games a lot. "Most boring Games EVER!" said one of my friends while we were out getting gelato. "I stopped watching two days ago," said my boyfriend when I asked him about it. "Let me know who wins."
And I did. I told him how the boy from 2's legs finally gave out for the last time. I told him how he had slumped up against the horn, slid down to his knees, dropped his head against his blood and vomit-stained shirt. And how he dropped to his left, hit the ground hard, and died. The girl from 5 opened her mouth and let out a raw cry, her voice cracking. Most would have heard only a scream. But I heard what she said.
Why?