Long days, longer nights. Foggy mornings, blurred sights.
If I had to say one thing, it would be that it wasn't what I expected.
Lonely trips, fearful sleeps with a knife in my hand, my loyal friend.
Somehow I had expected it to be quicker and withering. But the loneliness the unfamiliar brings makes me realize the love for my district and hold on to my home, my people, where I belong.
I brought them with me, right here you see? My token will be how I speak, how I act, how I am, you can't take them away from me, they are a part of me.
They all stand behind me, together we'll form a sea in which we'll swim and you will never be able to catch us. So swim, I wonder if your made faces and clothes can stand our waters.
Colored leaves, incredible heights. New tastes of cuts and bruises from newly absorbed subsists.
And standing in front of it all, merely a tribute from a district with a big name, from a family with a lost name, a girl with the goal to play.
But the play is what turned out differently; maybe it was the change of view, seeing the things differently. Looking in the mirror thinking 'hey you', looking again thinking 'who are you'?
Know who you are, it's what you have left. In the arena rule number one is to never lose yourself.
Of course along all the other rules like killing each other, the last survivor being the winner and never to eat the others.
'Killing? Well that's sound rather delightful doesn't it! Eating them? What kind of brutal barbarians are you peasants?'
I'd like to thank my mentor for that remarkable consideration of hers. Other than teaching me how to walk with heels with lengths from my little finger to thumb, she very well explained the sphere and morals of the hunger games. It had been even more teachable when my other mentor Finnick Odair demonstrated the walk on heels.
You see they don't teach those things in district 4, and except for the show I have no idea when it'll come in handy in the real life. But maybe, just maybe, along with the shoes all the other small things did matter and I have a little group of loyal followers behind their screens rooting for me.
But what does it all matter, sooner or later it will all end and for now all I have is my one truly loyal life that will help me peel my apple and slit throats, eventually… When the time comes. Will it come? For a victory of maybe just a small victory I'll have the blood of innocents on my hands for ever. One victory isn't worth years of shame.
That's what I told myself before, that's what I tell myself now. That's what I told my district partner when the first thing he said to me was how I was able to look in the mirror and not recognize yourself. There was nothing that eased the stress of the games that always went straight to my mind where the link between thoughts and sayings get's cancelled and all that comes to mind comes out of my mouth which is maybe why I shouldn't have added that I wouldn't recognize anyone if he/she wore the make-up I did back then.
Honestly I didn't recognize him when he stood 7 places to my right in the circle with the cornucopia in our middle. The slyness and mischief in his eyes weren't familiar to me, nor were the tears of the 14 year old girl from district 12 beside me. Her death had been painful to see, a lance through her heart by my very own district partner just before she could reach the cornucopia. Her token was lying next to my knife and was the only other thing I could gather before I ran away from the bloodbath. Standing in that circle had been one of the most remarkable moments of my life, standing in a circle with 23 other breathing, living people whose hearts will stop beating one by one. We'll all be gone in less than a minute in an arena, which looked astonishing when I noticed the colorful surroundings and high green grass, the last living moment we lived, last moment of innocence we'd have and last minute with a white flag raised, but it would soon be dropped and the game would begin. The final seconds made me feel the weirdest sensation of time passing by with such a speed but too slow none the less. My heartbeat increasing every passing second until I remembered I had to breathe if I wanted to survive.
I recognized almost none of the people who were standing around in a circle one second and slaying each other the next. Was all that was shown of them, of me, of us just show? Or does the obstacles and danger of the arena reveal who we truly are?
All thoughts that went through my mind, just as quickly as the arrow passing just a few inches from my ear. The last thing I had seen was the bow being broke in 2 pieces and the tribute running for her dear life and the same pair eyes I had also felt on me in the circle. Golden eyes that locked with mine for a second. A raised axe, the blissful thought of a quick death, but the axe never hit me. The boy behind me hadn't been so lucky though.
From then the only goal was running, and running I did. Away from all the screaming, away from all the cries and no longer the smell of blood lingering in the air. Between all the running I wish I'd looked at my surroundings, at least knowing where I was going never mind where I was heading. Hart pounding, left, right, turn, duck a single jump and the surroundings changed from green to black and from nature to ruins. Utterly lost in an unfamiliar world, then finding behind the ruins, a river with no waves utterly still and peaceful, a place like home.
That's where I lay breathing relieved I had made it the first day and through a small crook in the rock above me close to the river I could see the starless skies and the faces of dead tributes that were only breathing a day ago. The game began, no turning back if there had ever been one. However it would go from here, I'll have a part to play. A single piece but a part of whole. Closing my eyes I wish to be more than just a piece that walks around one day and forgotten the other. Thinking about all past days whereas I wish I had done more. The fear that my days will end before I even had a taste of life before I had achieved something to be proud of. People I had yet to meet places I had yet to visit, but none of us had been given that chance. The irony of how beautiful life seems when you've got no time to live it.
When the sound of the Capitols anthem sounded I held my knife close, maybe this was actually a chance. Out of hundreds of other (now relieved) residents I was here. They could have the chance to sleep tight tonight, and I could be the one I wanted to be, so they'd remind me the way I was, the way I am. Unfair was the choice that decided who could go home and who'd have to say goodbye, but what would be made of it is something entirely in your hands. Like Finnick said 'if someone closes a road you can always take another, or kill the sod and take whatever road seems best.'
Smiling I turned on my side, if the capitol was filming right now I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of giving them sights of grief and terror. It's a game, with every turn new moves, maybe even rules. No time for safe homes or saturating meals. A shelter and berries and I was safe for the night. Thinking 'This time it's my time' other tributes close or far away maybe thinking the same 'I'm going to make these days worth living for' while in the arena or behind screams they are wishing the same.
From the moment the canon shot sounded and we took off, there was no time for fancy dresses, sweet smiles and nicely phrased lies. Every single second, every single heartbeat, every sound, smell and touch confirming that we are alive. Every breath every tree everyone is a part, and inevitable relevant, everything counts.
Feeling more alive than I ever did, adrenaline taking a break sooner than my thoughts did I held on to my gear. The whispering sound of the wind through leaves and bushes, vibration in the ground underneath me. The 72nd annual Hunger Games had begun, and as I felt my eyes close flashes of faces, few crying, few bloodthirsty and others unrecognizable. Blood, running, green ground, colored red, a pair of golden eyes before reality made place for dreams. Who knew how it'd go from here? The story of the 72nd annual Hunger Games had officially begun.
