Everest Flint
You should see me a crown
'Bite my tongue, bide my time
Wearing a warning sign
Wait 'til the world is mine
Visions I vandalize
Cold in my kingdom size
Fell for these ocean eyes?
You should see me in a crown
I'm gonna run this nothing town
Watch me make 'em bow
One by one by one
One by one by
You should see me in a crown
Your silence is my favourite sound
Watch me make 'em bow
One by one by one
One by one by one
Count my cards, watch them fall
Blood on a marble wall
I like the way they all
Scream
Tell me which one is worse
Living or dying first
Sleeping inside a hearse
I don't dream'
Billie Eilish You Should See Me In A Crown
Nothing heals the past like time.
It'll be alright.
60...59...58...57...56...55...
I'm placed next to the redhead from 12 and a boy – I can't tell who. Both will be bloodbath tributes. I take in the arena. The sweet smell of pines. The wind whistling in my ears. Snowflakes flying in the air. They swirl, filling the air. I can vaguely see the outline of the Cornucopia and the people beside me, only knowing the girl from 12 because of her bright red hair. A giant, snow-coated wood, with the cornucopia in a clearing, in the middle of a blizzard. I locate the weapons of my choice, throwing axes, hunting knives, daggers, throwing knives. My heart feels like it'll beat out of my chest. I close my eyes, trying to calm my nerves. Before I know it, we're on ten.
10...
9...
8...
7...
6...
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...
I run to the centre of the arena, grabbing a throwing axe and backpack. Behind me is the boy from 11, the only boy that makes me look tiny – I'm 6'5" and I'm just up to his chest – he holds a machete above his head. I swing my axe, causing the machete – and the hand it's attached to – to drop onto the ground. Blood splatters everywhere, mostly on my face. That's the least of my worries at the moment. The boy cries out in pain, holding his stump of an arm. I take mercy on him and push his machete into his neck. I grab a hunting knife, a throwing knife, a skinning knife and a lightweight sword before fleeing. I run right into the woods. The eastern part. I follow the path. It's crude and make-shift, almost as if someone's been here before. Of course, I know nobody has, they never re-use an arena. I look back for a second, no one's following me. I slow my pace to a walk. My boots make the snow crunch. My feet are frigid. It feels like my toes are going to freeze off. My cheeks sting, my fingers are cold. I sit on a stone. I fumble with the straps on my bag. There's a thick blanket, a coat, a scarf, gloves, a woolly hat matches, a tent, two palm-sized skins blueberries and an empty canteen for water. My shaky hands put two blueberries into my mouth. Hands still shaky, I pull on the coat, wrap the scarf around my neck, pulling it over my nose, I put on the hat and pull the hood over my head. The sun is bright, though it has no effect. Those horrible gamemakers. I continue walking, the snow keeps falling so no one can see my tracks. The sun has started to set, they'll show the tributes who've died today. I continue walking, before finding a lake, the careers will be here. I hear them arguing, Hadrian, my district partner, is red in the face yelling at his allies. He's yelling at them because he thinks one of them killed me. Of course, they didn't. I just didn't want to ally with them. None of them seemed...trustworthy. Besides, allies aren't really my thing. It's the fact that they could snap and kill you at any moment, or feed you nightlock. I decide to set up camp behind a tree. So I set up the tent, it's small, with enough room for me. I hear Hadrian yell that they're going hunting. For food. And tributes. Hadrian won't let them kill me, though. As soon as they leave, I fill the canteen with water and wash the, now dried, blood off my face. They've left the boy from 3 as their guard, I'll kill him easily. I take my lightweight sword, the metal is cold, nearly freezing. I tiptoe towards the boy. He's 12, 13 at the most. He isn't holding the spear correctly. I walk closer to him. He turns in the direction the others went, though he doesn't move. Just before he turns around, I push the sword into his neck. The careers' camp is full of supplies. I take food, weapons, blankets, thermal sleeping bags. I hear them laughing and making fun of a girl whom they killed. They make fun of the way she screamed. I run back. From the looks of it, they didn't get food. I'm not surprised. I'm quite sure the only food available was from the Cornucopia. I go back to my camp before I hear yet another fight, this time it's over the food and the boy from 3 who they left on guard. If you didn't want your food stolen, maybe you shouldn't have left him on guard. I light a fire, before removing the fur from an arctic fox with the skinning knife. I eat another five blueberries, as the arctic fox cooks. I take the thermal sleeping bag and place it in the corner of the tent. I wrap myself in blankets. Even with the fire, I'm still freezing. I shudder. After my arctic fox is cooked, I put my fire out and start nibbling it. It tastes...odd. Mostly because I've never eaten anything like this before, I sip some of my water, listening to the careers arguing. I look up at the night sky. The boys from 11 and 12, both from 3, 7, 9 and 10 and the girls from 5, 6 and 8. It's not as much as I expected, I'm sure more will die in the night. I sip the water. The metal is cold. I put it down after a few sips. I miss the temporary warmth of my fire. Keeping the fire on would get me killed. I stuff my sleeping bags into one another and pull on my coat and wrap myself in the blankets. I don't bother with a pillow, the hood is enough. I feel less cold. Certainly not warm. But, less cold. I shudder myself to sleep.
The second I wake up, I pack my bags and fill up my canteen of water. I'm so close to the careers, it's a wonder how they haven't seen me yet. On the other side of the arena, there's a snow-tipped mountain.
He digs his knife into my arm, slowly dragging it down to my wrist. He makes sure the knife goes through into my bone. He picks me up, wrapping his hands around my throat, choking me, until I'm sure I'm about to die. I can feel the life drain from me. We're a yard from the edge of the cliff, him pushing me until I'm three steps from the edge and he's about to push me over.
'Evie.' I hear someone say, 'Evie.'