One by One, They Come Undone

by grey.fog

At least 22 of them had to die, but they all had their own stories to tell. What was it like for those Tributes who came from cities, those who were brought up to fight, those who had never fought a day in their life? POV/chap for each tribute of 74th HG

4. District 8 Male: It Was Warm

Four: It was Warm

District 8 Male

I hate confined spaces. I am standing on the disc, and there's so much space around me, but I can practically feel the walls of the Arena. Pressing in, pressing closer. Like at home, at work in the factories, working hours upon hours in the dark and cold.

It's not dark and cold here in the arena, it's warm and bright. I eye up all that is available in the cornucopia, and glance out of the corner of my eye at the others. Some are looking away from it, planning to make a run for it, others are obviously picking what they'll go for.

I'll need the food there, and it's not so far away. I could grab it and be gone before anyone caught up to me. I can tell with just one look to my fellow tribute from 8 that she's thinking the same thing. Not the smartest girl, I've ever met, but she too, like me must fell ill equipped.

What do we know of forests?

It's a blur, I'm running, and so is everyone else, some scattering, some battling, some so frozen in fear they don't even move from their starting position. They'll be dead soon.

I'm at the pile, one of the first. Triumph is in my heart, beating so fast I fear it may escape. My hands are on a fire starter kit when I'm tackled. I feel something snap within me.

Ironic I would work in the dark and cold to live, but fight in the light and heat to die.