From the Perspective of Iggy Griffiths
I roll over. My back is killing me. Stupid White Coats. Stupid School. I think. A cage is terrible to sleep in. I glance around. Am I outside? I stare up into the sky. It is a bright day with barely any clouds. The sun is shining so much that I have to squint to see anything. To see anything. See. See. "Ohmygod!" I scream, finally getting it, "I can see! I can fricken' see!" I scramble to my feet. The world looks so real. It is real. I need to tell the others, I think.
"Max! Guess what? I can see! Fang! Nudge! I'm not blind anymore! Gasser! Gazzy, where are you, bro?" I call out. Then I realize they aren't right next to me. None of them are responding from the forest or lake near me. I yell for them again, "Angel? Guys? Uh… report?" Still silence. I look around and see no art piece that I could have slept on. I close my eyes and feel around. Nothing feels familiar. I didn't fall asleep here, I realize. I need to get an aerial view. I begin to run as fast as I can for a good takeoff. The best place to jump into the air is the shoreline of a nearby lake. I sprint towards the water until the very edge. I snap my wings open and feel the familiar rush of air. I flap down hard, needing to get higher. My wings must not have been used in a while because they shake and I get my right foot soaked in the lake. I slowly climb higher on my quavering wings until I can see where I am.
Under me is the lake I almost fell into, the edge of the water is spattered with cattails, next to it is the field that I woke up in. A dense deciduous forest surrounds the field and on a small peninsula across the lake is a low hill. I have to do a double take because on the hill is what looks like a Thanksgiving basket. Inside it I see movement, but I'm pretty sure I imagined that. Am I crazy? I wonder, am I just having some insane dream where I can see? What if in real life I'm still blind? I begin to feel panic coursing though my veins. My head begins to spin and the world seems to be in a washing machine, tumbling over itself again and again. I feel lightheaded and my flying is faltering. Keep it together, I think, keep it-. A loud BOOM! Jostles me out of my thoughts. I take in deep breaths of air and try to calm myself down. That sounded like a cannon. Someone must have fired it. That means that someone must be here. I think. I scan the area for any signs of life, but I see nothing. The person obviously doesn't want to be found. I let my head drop in disappointment. There! I think. A boy with hair the color of roasted chestnuts is standing, literally, right under me. He looks like a model, or a boy that Nudge would have a crush on at least. He has a Poseidon spear in his hand and he's standing over someone else in the water. He looks up at me, and grins like a devil. That's when I notice the blood.
Blood! My head screams. I still can't register it fully. He killed that other person! He's a murderer! He's seen me, but he can't reach me up here. What do I do with a murderer? He just killed that person! My mind is racing faster than Max's super-flight-speed. I decide that the guy is insane. "Uh hey. What're you doing with the Poseidon-doohickey?" I shout, better just humor Mr. Nutcase.
"My trident? Oh y'know," he pauses, weighing his weapon in his hand as if he just found it, "this and that." He gestures to the body. The dead body. I can't help but shudder.
I know I should fly away from him, but first I have to ask one more question. I gulp and carry on, "So, you know where we are?"
Again, he pauses and after thinking for a while before answering, "ten people, including us. Wait no, nine people." He prods the lifeless corpse. He can obviously see the confusion on my face because he adds more to his explanation saying, "four Careers, a pair from seven, and a guy from eleven. I almost got that guy, but he took a chunk out of me and I had to run." He points to a wound on his arm. I feel sick. He bends over the carcass and rips open the dead body's shirt. I see the puncture wounds all too clearly and I'm repulsed when the boy begins to take some items off of the corpse. I tell him to stop.
"Why should I? I need to… y'know." He indicates something with his hands. He acts like I should know what he's trying to say. I don't know.
"Its just wrong and-" I'm cut off by silence. I know it sounds weird, but when you're talking and suddenly it goes soundless, it's loud in a way. I gaze around. The birds have gone silent, probably hearing something I cant. Wait, I can hear it too, a soft humming in the total silence. I cock my head to the side, thank God for my enhanced hearing. Mr. Nutcase is staring at me with a smile playing across his lips. Weirdo, I think, unless he knows something I don't know. He suddenly jumps back and kicks the dead body away. What the-, I begin to think, but I'm interrupted by something whizzing past my ear like a bullet. It grabs the body that the boy killed and drags it up into the air. I'm too stunned to move. The dead body's leg hits me on the jaw and I fall.
"Hey cutie" the boy says silkily as I wake up and give him an ugly grunt. He returns with an annoying smirk and I have to blink again because life doesn't seem real yet, I mean, I can see him! He continues teasing me, "Your welcome, buddy. It was nothing to save your life." I glare at him and try to shake the pain from my head. He stops joking and gives me the facts, "Okay birdie, I like you, but unless you decide to become allies with me, I have to kill you. So, yes or no, to allies I mean." I nod the becoming allies. I really like my life and I want to keep it.
He helps me up after a while and tells me that we can walk to his camp. While we walk he begins to talk about his life to me, "My name's Finnick by the way. Finnick Odair. I live in District Four." Before he can finish his introduction I ask him what "District Four" is. He looks at me like I'm crazy, but he still begins to tell me something I sort of understand. "We are in the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games pit twenty-four children from the twelve districts against each other. The twelve districts supply, luxury items, stone and ore, electronics, fish and other sea-related stuff, power, transportation, lumber, textiles, grain, livestock, agriculture stuff, and coal. There used to be a District Thirteen that supplied graphite and nuclear weapons, but they were over thrown when they revolted." He continues talking, but I zone out. My mind begins to wander as I listen to him talk and I think, maybe he isn't crazy, he just wants to survive. Sort of what the Flock and I've been doing. I need to get out of here because I need to find the Flock. Are they watching us right now on a TV? Or did I get kidnapped from them and they're freaking out? Oh God I really need to get out of here. He continues talking. The more he tells me about places called Panem and the Capitol the more questions I wonder about.
"So, do you think that the Capitol fixed my blindness? Because I can see now." I ask after a while. He stares at me like I just said that I was an Eraser or something.
"You were blind? I mean, I guess they could fix your eyes, but I haven't heard much about that technology." He replies. "I didn't know you were blind. Speaking of not knowing stuff about you, what's your back story?"
I gulp, should I tell him the truth? The White Coats might use it against me or the Flock. He looks at me expectantly and I begin to weave lies between my truths, "My name's Iggy and I'm fourteen. We have a dog we got from a friend. I, uh, was born blind and I got my wings because… because I was experimented on by my stylists before the Hunger Games." I give Finnick what I hope is a convincing smile. He obviously doesn't buy it, but he doesn't ask. We end up walking in silence until Finnick takes my arm and leads me behind a rock. He kicks aside a few cattails, slips through them and disappears into a cleverly disguised hole. Wow, this guy is pretty intense. He knows how to survive better than the Flock. I think. I offer to take first watch because I'm not sure I can trust him and he pleasantly agrees and lies down. Before he goes to sleep he grabs his trident and curls up with it. I look at him and think, he's even prepared to fight when he's sleeping. I am so glad I became allies with him. I lean against the muddy wall and hunker down for the night.
The sun is rising when Finnick wakes up and shakes the tiredness from his handsome face. He glances around and then says, "You didn't wake me up for your shift! You need to sleep, man." He sends a glare my way, but I can tell he's not actually mad. I give him an apologetic grin. He rolls his eyes and then says, "okay whatever, why don't I show you around the arena today so you can get your boundaries straight." I nod and we climb out of our makeshift home. He covers it up again and we set off into the forest. The trees rustle with a light wind and I hear familiar birdcalls, I stare at the birds. I have heard them most of my life, but never seen the birds. Finnick tells me some of their names. "I think that's a swallow 'cause it has the tail. I don't really know these ones very well, but I know pelicans and seagulls like the ocean currents." He boasts. He's such a surfer-guy, I think. We walk through the peaceful setting for an hour before I have to ask to rest for a while. He obliges and we sit near a small shrub. He tells me that the berries on it are called salmon berries and very popular with the children at his home.
"I can see why they like them. They're delicious!" I say as we start to eat our lunch of salmon berries. Finnick grins and stuffs more into his mouth. We talk a bit more. Finnick asks about the people in "my family" and I tell him about them. He asks a lot of questions about Max and her odd moments of questionable sanity. I ask him about his family and he tells me he has no siblings, but a bunch of girls back home keep ogling over him. Nudge would be one of them. We talk until I say we can keep walking. Finnick stands up and brushes some dust off of his pants. He stretches his arms and I can't help but stretch my wings to their full extent. He stares at them and lightly brushes them with his fingertips. His touch is extremely soft and he murmurs about them inaudibly like he is talking to a frightened animal. Then he realizes what he's doing and takes his hand back hurriedly. We both blush awkwardly.
"Well, better get going!" he calls as he sets off at a swift pace. I begin to follow him when a shriek pierces the calm forest. Finnick doesn't even pause. He's off running before I realize that the scream was human.