I sit in the cold, black, darkness slicing off another chunk of my hair. I've resorted to this method of fire starting because I ran out of tinder from my pack. In a frozen wasteland, scattered with 300 feet high ice pillars, it tends to be hard to find wood. I watch my hair fall to the hard packed snow beneath my feet. Seeing this, makes me flash back to home. My sister, Rue, stands there, cutting my hair. Her graceful thin fingers, guiding the scissors, easily find their way through each and every strand. She tells me of what it was like to be the victor of the 74th Hunger Games, about how she took the title of youngest victor from a man named Finnick Odair, about the brave young women, Katniss, I believe her name was, who gave her life for my sister to come home.
But that was then and this is now, she was twelve and I was ten. Now I'm twelve, and in the exact same position. The anthem blares out over the midnight sky, waking me up from my daze, all the stars fade away and the faces of the fallen hover above me. It skips straight to District 12, 'Damn! That career is still alive' I say to myself. The girl from twelve appears first, I think I remember her from training but I'm not positive, Madge Undersee, at least I think it is. It's sad because this was her last year in the Reaping, though I am surprised she lasted this long. She was the daughter of the mayor, meaning she never had to hunt or fight or do anything for her food. Followed by her is a young boy, the same age as me, Rory, if I'm correct. That's all and the sky goes back to its cold, heartless black. They must have turned on each other, my reason being that the two cannons today went off together, one after the other.
"It's the final three," I say, almost sad sounding at the end. "I might actually get to go home!" Just then another cannon blast echoes through the empty arena and the booming voice of Claudius Templesmith fills the place. "Tributes! Congratulations! You are now part of the final two! I would like each of you to look up in the sky and shout the one thing you think you need the most. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favour." Almost immediately I spring up from the ground, where I must have subconsciously found my way to, and cry "Blow Darts!" Living in District 11, my job was to climb the trees with my sister, but instead off picking the fruits and whistling the 'end of day' tune, I was too shoot my darts at pestering birds eating our crops.
Sailing through the air, comes a silver parachute with a long reflective, silver canister. As soon as it touches the ground it springs open. Inside is a note, which your now allowed to send as long as it does not give you information on your fellow tributes, saying "Kit, I hope this helps you come home, it's a little more high-tech then what your used to, but we all pitched in. - People of District 11" I nearly cry, choking up on the last four words, but I manage to keep my tears in. I pick up the long narrow rod inside the canister, observing it with great care, when something catches my eye. Inside the case there are ten little darts, each with barbed tips, three of them with a purple coloured orb on top, seven without. I have never seen anything like this in my life, I would hate to be shot by any one of these, let alone the purple ones, just because I know what the Capitol could create.
A couple hours later I was woken from my deep sleep, the first actual sleep I have had since the night before the Reaping. Large, heavy foot stops come bustling through the snow and onto my camp fire I foolishly kept lit. The smoke most have given me away. As smooth and as quite as a fox, I scurry up the ice pillar nearest me. I brought with me my new weapon, that's it. My spiked boots make it easy for me to climb the ice fast, but I'm used to climb trees with no branches, so this is a breeze. There are little chunks of ice sticking out, good for hand and foot holds I say, making a mental note of it. I keep climbing until I get to the nearest landing, which is basically an ice branch, merging from the side of the pillar.
A knife whizzes by my head and gets lodged into a nearby pillar, then another, and another. They keep coming until my attacker appears to be out of 'ammunition' and the ice pillar to my right looks like the Cornucopia. "I see you eleven!" She shouts. The voice hits me like a bullet from the peace keepers. The girl from District one. Her name is Shimmer, her sister Glimmer, died in the games in which my sister won. "Your little rat of a sister killed mine! Now I'm 'gonna kill hers!" She shrieks. I always noticed her dirty looks towards me during training, but never thought anything of it, until now. She wants revenge on Rue, and plans to get it through me.
"Well you're not getting it!" I shout, without looking below me, afraid of the see the state in which the girl is in. She then takes out her axe and starts hacking at the base of my pillar, my lifeline. "You're coming down one way or another," she says, with a sly, creepy grin on her face, "dead or alive." That's when it hits me, I still have my weapon. I turn around and look down, I put the saddest look on my face, one that not even a puppy could pull off, and I whisper "Please don't kill me." She pauses, as if confused by my sudden change of heart. "Okay sweetie, just come down and we can talk it out. Okay?" How foolish does she think I am? That's an insult! "Okay," I say in a hushed voice. "Stupid little girl." I hear her mutter under her breath. "But first…" I say coldly, "Go see your sister. She's waiting for you." I Take in a huge breath and puff out one of the purple darts. It finds its way into the soft part of her neck and instantaneously she starts convulsing. She falls to the ground and a deep purple foam leaks from her mouth. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, leaving her face and body twisted and contorted in a withering heap. She stays there, shaking violently for 20 more seconds until her body disintegrates leaving nothing behind but her teeth and her token, I small steel ring, the word "Revenge" engraved into the center.
Trumpets blast out and my sisters four tone tune is being played all through the arena. "Kit Missentaur, you are the victor of the 76th annual Hunger Games!" But all I can think is, Rue, I'm coming home.
A/N: Hope you like it Merri! And may the odds be ever in your favour! ( That's how we spell favour in Canada XD!)