Stretched out on his back, unable to sleep, Thresh quietly counted the stars as they twinkled lifetimes above. On a clear night like this - which is most nights in the arena, so video recording isn't hindered - three thousand of them should be visible to the unaided eye. It was cold, but the tawny stocks of the genetically modified wheat buffered him from the worst of the chill. At dawn, the table for the Feast would be set, and he might have to kill in order to attain what he needed. Disposing of the boy from Seven during the Bloodbath was an unfortunate necessity; Thresh needed enough supplies to outlast twenty-three other tributes and the boy refused to release the other strap of the backpack they both reached at the same moment.
The field of wheat was the perfect sanctuary; a small piece of District Eleven placed in the arena just for him. Rue ran straight for the woods when the gong sounded. That was good. She worked in the orchards at home, and the trees would provide her with security due to her uncanny ability to weave through their branches at extreme heights and with great grace. A few nights ago, he was saddened to see her smiling face lit up in the sky as the eighteenth death. He wondered how it had happened, and hoped that it had not been prolonged. When he returned home, he would make sure her family was taken care of.
Slowly, the stars began to disappear as night's darkness ceded to dawn's dull gray. Thresh crept to the edge of the field to scout for other tributes as they arrived at the feast, but during that time of the morning in which anything could become a shadow, his eyes could discern no movement. He sat back into the cover of the long grass to consider how he was going to safely acquire the gift left for him. He had no weapon. But he was strong and fast; he would have to improvise when the moment came.
As traces of color began to appear in the sky, so did a hovercraft which beared a table set with four different sized and colored backpacks. Displaying the deceptiveness that must have been key to her survival thus far, the red-headed girl from Five proved to have the best plan; she leapt out of her hiding place within the golden cornucopia, snatched the green pack emblazoned with her District's number, and bolted to the safety of the woods. Thresh was about to risk making his approach, when the girl from Twelve, bow in hand, appeared from the forest. He didn't see any sign of her district partner, but that certainly didn't mean he wasn't hidden somewhere nearby. As she grabbed the small orange bag and turned to leave, the feisty girl from Two burst onto the scene and threw a knife at Twelve's face, then pinned her to the ground and gesticulated wildly with another sharp blade. Stupid girl. Thresh used their preoccupation with one another to sneak up and retrieve his large, black backpack. As he was backing away, he heard the smaller girl brag of Rue's death. Enraged, he picked a large stone from off the ground and approached the pair, inquiring of the one wielding the knives, "Did you kill that little girl?"
The arrogant, diminutive girl's eyes went wide. "No! It wasn't me, it was-"
Refusing to listen to her lies, he lifted the rock high and arced it down into her temple, marring her recently 'Beauty Based One' skin with a smear of red, and imbedding the rock's surface with torn pieces of flesh. She collapsed to the ground, convulsing. He dropped the stone beside her misshapened head and turned to the other girl, "You allied with Rue?"
"Yes, we blew up the Careers' food supply," the girl from District Twelve replied nervously. "I was there when she was killed. . .I sang. And placed flowers around her body-"
Thresh closed his eyes and nodded thoughtfully before he spoke. "Go. Just this once. For her," he said as he retrieved his backpack from the ground and threw District Two's over his shoulder as further punishment for killing his partner.
After he regained the relative safety of the wheat field, Thresh opened his bag to find exactly what he needed - a special suit of armor to protect him from the weapons of the others, and a perfectly balanced sword to make him the winner of the 74th Hunger Games. Out of curiosity, he temporarily set aside his own gifts and opened District Two's bag; he was rewarded with bread and cheese. Ah, yes, Rue and the Girl on Fire had destroyed the Careers' food; he smiled at the success of their plan.
Momentarily distracted by his thoughts, he was not prepared to defend himself when Cato's sword spliced through the wall of wheat directly to his left. He lunged for the pack containing his armor and weapon, but it had tumbled out of reach. As Cato's sword again tore through the air towards him, he raised his forearm to deflect the steel from damaging anything vital; at first he felt nothing, but the nothingness was quickly replaced by searing pain as the bone was smashed and the skin split into a gaping wound. Blood poured to the ground, turning the dirt and grain an angry red. With his good arm, he attempted to grab Cato's leg and bring him to the ground - where he might have had a fighting chance to subdue the trained killer - but Cato kicked him back down, and Thresh's face smashed into the saturated earth.
A pinching sensation grew between his shoulder blades.
Followed by numbness.
Thresh gasped for breath, but his lungs had given out.
A stream of blood trickled past his lips and fell to the ground below, melding with the crimson pool the sword through his chest had created. Laying quietly on his stomach, unable to move, Thresh watched the golden grains that as they swayed softly in the breeze.
He closed his eyes.
The boom of the cannon heralded his failure.