The Wilting Flower

Belle was in full panic mode. Her body was aching, her head pounding as she fumbled her way through the wild crowd of tributes.

She gasped as another cannon shot fired loudly.

Startled by the noise, she lost track of where she was running and stumbled over something on the ground. Pulling herself up slowly, she realized what she had fallen over: the remains of the girl from Thirteen's body.

Belle retched, shaking wildly as she attempted to pull herself away from the charred stump of a body. Looking around for any sign of assistance, she noticed that only a few feet away from her, another girl was kneeling in a ball, weeping.

It was the girl from Seven. There was another boy who had looked just like her; Belle had seen him run into the Cornucopia building. She deduced that they were twins, and concluded that perhaps that cannon shot had been for this girl's brother.

For a moment, she contemplated comforting the girl. Don't be an idiot. You're here to either kill everyone else, or die yourself.

She clutched at her stomach, the pain emanating from her insides nearly blinding her. Being killed or dying on her own seemed more likely than any alternative at this point. She had thought it some kind of cruel joke when she had been Reaped in District Eleven. For sixteen years now she had suffered from some kind of debilitating, chronic disease that caused her intense abdominal pain.

No one back home had known what it was. The diet of Eleven made it all the worse; eating any sort of grains or bread, her pain only increased exponentially. Her family never had the money to pay for real medicine or a real doctor, so she had learned to deal with it, eating very little and only then, fruit. Her slightest reprieve was a healer who lived next door who had found an herbal relief to her pain.

But now there was no one to help her. She hadn't eaten anything in the past twenty-four hours because she was afraid of eating something that would send her into fits. It turned out that a combination of starving herself and increasing stress only made her symptoms worse.

Writhing on the floor, she let out a low moan. She stiffened when a strong hand gripped her forearm. Frozen with fear, she didn't make a noise or put up a struggle. She wanted this to be quick and painless.

As she waited for the final blow with bated breath and eyes screwed shut, she felt the hand roll her over.

"Are you okay?" came a deep voice.

Belle opened her eyes tentatively, looking up into the strong, tanned features of a handsome young man.

"Are you okay?" he repeated with more urgency. She noted that he was holding a large, jagged piece of rock in his other hand.

She nodded, clutching at her stomach.

"Okay, good. Just stay here, you hear me? You're going to be okay."

He stood up and ran over to the crying girl from Seven, attempting to comfort her.

Belle tried to sit up, the pain in her abdomen limiting her ability to move. She noticed the girl from Twelve run past her holding a medium length of heavy black pipe.

"Finn! It's now or never!" she yelled at the handsome boy. With a name and face like that, Belle placed his district as Four.

"Try and gather as many as you can before we lose them!" he yelled back, laying Seven down gently as she sobbed violently.

Twelve stepped up onto the lip of the fountain, tributes still scrambling to get their bearings in the Cornucopia area.

"Listen to me, everyone!" she yelled as loudly as she could. Most of the tributes stopped for a moment, surprised by her bravado. Belle noticed one girl with long brown hair had already escaped, running as fast as she could towards a cluster of trees.

"Please," yelled Twelve. "Gather round the fountain and just listen to me for a minute!"

Most of the tributes obeyed, warily making their way closer to the fountain. A few stayed back, trying to keep themselves equidistant from the ominous darkness of the Cornucopia and this strange girl on the fountain.

"Before this competition began, some of us had the opportunity to get together and assess our predicament."

Doing a quick headcount, Belle could see that besides the three tributes who had run to the Cornucopia, there were two missing from the group.

"The rules this year are unlike those of any other. We have only ourselves to rely on, and the dangers are unknown to everyone associated with the Games. Even the Gamemakers."

"Get to the point already," a tall, well toned boy said roughly.

"My point is that the only thing we have to fear in this arena is each other. My name is Diana, and you have nothing to fear from me. Myself, Finn, and Livia gathered last night and discussed our situation."

"Livia? She's a career from Two, how can you trust her?" screamed a fidgety looking girl in the pack of tributes. Shouts of assent came from various tributes.

Belle didn't hear Diana's response, as her body went into a rough spasm. She could feel her heart racing faster, the sour bile rising in her throat. It was only thirty seconds until she regained control of herself, but it seemed like an hour.

Diana hopped off of the fountain. "The three of us gathered last night, and we came to the conclusion that perhaps we could have more than one victor this year. We had hoped we could have twenty-six. Obviously, that isn't possible anymore." She stared sadly toward the Cornucopia, then to the hole in the ground that had been Thirteen's pod.

The other tributes perked up, suddenly interested in what she had to say. Who wouldn't jump at the chance of survival? Belle herself was interested in what Diana's solution was, even as she struggled to stay conscious against the flow of pain from her midsection.

"While we recieved no help in this competition, the rules also prevent the Capitol from putting danger in our paths. They have left this place, wherever it is, untouched. No pods, no traps, no nothing. Which means the can't hurt us."

There was silence as reason set in and the tributes began to ponder her words.

"Once again- we are the only danger in this place. We only need to band together and survive. Find a way to live in this place. If we can manage that for only a few weeks, there's a good chance the Capitol will get bored, and the Games will be canceled. We will be freed."

"But then the Capitol will just kill us for being insubordinate!" It was the fidgety girl again.

"There is always a chance of that, Games or not. But we have no weapons, no food, no idea where we are. I speculate that if there isn't any bloodshed for an extended period of time, then perhaps they might... cancel the Quell. They weren't expecting this either. We can play off of their insecurity!"

Belle was starting to understand the logic behind Diana's idea. It made sense, if in a very far fetched way. Could they really all make it out of this alive?

She let out a small scream as another spasm nearly folded her in half.

"There might be Hell to pay next year, or maybe even in a few months if they decide to move onto the next Quell Card. But tradition and the idea of the Games is what is most important to the people of the Capitol. They can't kill us for their failure as Gamemakers. We can all survive this- if we work together. We only have to figure out have to keep each other alive."

"Or we could survive this if we do exactly what the Gamemakers want us to do," came a cold, low voice from the doorway of the Cornucopia.

All of the tributes spun around wildly, looking for the source of the voice.

Belle looked up through bleary eyes. Standing in the doorway of the Cornucopia was a tall, dark haired boy. His skin was pale, his frame rather slight, but he still seemed very muscular and agile. His eyes were an ice cold blue, his gaze piercing each of the gathered tributes, as though he were some sort of machine, analyzing each of them as a threat.

"Don't be an idiot, Odin," Diana said, her voice heavy with malice. "If we do what the Gamemakers want, not a single one of us will survive. We'll kill each other off."

Odin acted as though he hadn't heard her. "Livia, it's a crying shame that you chose to ally yourself with these children. Our district has a tradition of victory and it saddens me to think you won't be a part of it."

Livia, who looked rather like Odin, with the tall, thin frame and dark hair, stared straight back at him, not saying a word or breaking her gaze.

"Here's the deal: you can listen to a peasant from Twelve wail from her soapbox there, or you can listen to what I have to say."

A few of the tributes stared anxiously back towards Diana, but most kept their gazes locked on Odin.

"Peace is never an option when it comes to the Games. What the people want is blood. Now, I know my limitations. I know I wouldn't be able to kill all of you right now with my bare hands, much less when two of you have weapons."

Belle looked to the pipe in Diana's hand. She must have torn it from the ground where the landmines had destroyed Thirteen's pod.

"But I'm going to give a few of you the chance to help me out. In regular years, there's always a pack of Career tributes. The strongest of the group. We work together to hunt down the weaker tributes, and when we're the only ones left... well, what happens, happens. But since this year is different, I'm willing to make an exception. I will accept a willing few to join me in the hunt for the weaker tributes. And maybe, just maybe, the Gamemakers will pity their champions and allow more than one winner."

Someone piped up from the group, "How do we know you won't kill us after we help you?"

Odin smiled cruelly, his straight white teeth gleaming. The sight of it made Bella cringe. It was as if this was the first time Odin had ever smiled in his life, or as if the only other time you would see him smile was right before he cut your throat.

"Would I lie to you?" he asked mockingly.

Something told Bella that getting the truth from Odin was about as rare as one of his smiles.

The crowd of tributes in the fountain square looked around anxiously, some gazing to their district partners for affirmation, for anything.

"I'm with Diana," said a younger boy with nearly white hair. Belle recognized him as the boy from Thirteen.

A breathtakingly beautiful girl with dark black hair and tanned skin sauntered up towards where Odin stood. "You're an idiot Finn. You're an idiot if you think you can survive this by playing nursery with these children. I'm almost sorry it had to come to this."

Belle watched as the crowd of tributes slowly dispersed, some to Odin and some to Diana. She felt a sudden sorrow pierce her chest as she saw the number of tributes who would rather sate Panem's bloodlust than attempt to save everyone.

Her breathing was becoming shallow. Finn walked past her, the girl from Seven on his shoulder. He set her down next to Diana and her group, then turned around and walked back towards her.

She chuckled. When he walked towards her, she could see his hair gleam in the light as though he were some kind of beautiful vision. Looking into his green eyes, it was as if she could smell a lake. She could hear the crystal waves flowing and ebbing against the shore.

He knelt down next to her. "You're going to be okay. You're coming with us. We'll take care of you."

She tried to tell him what was happening to her, but she couldn't. She only managed to sputter the words, "Too late."

As Finn hoisted her up, her body gave way to a powerful tremor. Her limbs flailed uncontrollably as the pain racked her body.

Finn, surprised by her sudden violent movement, lost his grip on her.

Belle hit the stone floor hard. She felt a warmth spread through her head where her skull had hit the ground. Her stomach felt like the tightest knot imaginable.

As her vision began to fade, she felt her insides begin to loosen. The pain began to recede. Her struggle was over.

She listened to her last heartbeat echo in her inner ear.

Her eyes flicked around wildly, her chest getting tighter. She could feel nothing, but still hear and see everything.

Belle heard her own cannon boom, and then... nothing.