So that's 12 dead and it's hardly the middle of the second day. Wait, no, 13. The Cannons sound through the tunnels, rushing past me.
I add the spear and jacket that she had to my pack and follow the direction that the cannons came from. I must go on, though my stomach wants me to pause, either to eat or throw up I cannot tell.
I start wearily, but proud. I wear even sicker at the thought but it's true. She looked so fierce and smart back at the Capitol and I had just defeated her. Me, a plain girl who stood out at home for her styled bob hair and her stomach for the most gruesome tasks. I was glad that my family couldn't read my thoughts, as I had no idea if they would be pleased, scared or proud? I was all three but I was living the hell that they were merely watching.
I'd been walking at a good pace for a while when I came to a dead end. There were steps leading up, however and another flight leading downwards into a shallow pit. Up a few steps, there was a window. Through the small hole in the wall I could see that it was late evening and soon the seal of Panem would flash up in the sky.
I sat in the corner next to the stairs and noticed, for the first time, how completely and utterly hungry I was. My stomach was aching so much from the lack of any nutrition in the past two days that I felt that soon I might die of hunger. I knew I shouldn't have had that much pudding back at the Capitol. My stomach ached and groaned and I hugged it as I closed my eyes in despair.
When I reopened them, I found, much to my surprise, a small silver parachute had landed in front of me. I opened it eagerly to find a small container of warm soup and bread. The steam emitted seemed to light up my whole insides. I picked up the little card that had fallen out to see that I said "STAY STRONG." I smiled in spite of my surroundings and dug in.
After a few mouthfuls I noticed a fight between two boys on the other side of the theatre. I moved over so that I was positioned in the shadows right next to the window and I watched. The Boys were leaping between two crumbling columns, trying to deal deadly blows to each other. After a moment's thought, I replaced the lid on my soup to keep some heat in and placed it down to watch fully.
It looked like the Boys were from 2 and 5. Their swords were constantly flashing in the dull moonlight. The Boy from 2 ducked to avoid a blow and then proceeded to jab at the other's feet. 5 jumped backwards, attempting to dodge the blow. He missed his footing and my heart seemed to miss a beat but he just managed to hold on to the smallest piece of the edge as he could. I knew he was going to fall and I couldn't bear to watch but I couldn't pull my eyes away from the sight either.
The Boy from 2, thinking as I did, got bored of waiting for him to fall and begin to walk off, convinced that the other would give up soon enough.
But he was wrong. The Boy from 5 was stronger than he looked and he pulled himself up hastily, launching his sword at the Career's head as he did so. It landed directly in its target and the Career crumpled and toppled off the side of the structure.
The Boy from 5 stood up grimly, nodding his head in respect at the cannon.
A new feeling awoke within me. I couldn't quite work out what it was. All reasonable explanations just weren't reasonable in this situation. I was a sort of new found respect for the boy. He could hardly be older than me, yet he seemed so much wiser and mature in ways I could never imagine. He only killed because he had too, and was sorry and respected the poor soul. He wasn't a monster, only a gentleman. The games, hadn't and I was pretty sure they wouldn't, change him.
Was I? God, I simply couldn't be. This was a complete stranger. And I was in the Hunger Games were only one came out alive. This could be the death of me if what I was hiding from myself was true. I shake my head to try and get rid of the thought but it only becomes clearer in my mind.
Then I do what I'd been threatening to do for days. I turn away from the window and throw up the pitiful mouthfuls of soup.