Okie doke. I know it's been forever since I last updated this story. I have been so busy with work and haven't had time to work on this story. But, at night, while I'm working, I'm normally doing some writing. And that writing would be on this story. The only thing I have to do is start writing it in my Word Doc and editing it. I know this is a little short, but you will just have to deal with it, for now. XP
Disclaimer: You know the drill.
Glimmer takes charge and points her 'comrades' in certain directions, "Marvel, I want you to go after the two tributes from 7. You won't need anyone with you, you're strong enough. Cato, Clove, Lover-boy, and I will go after 12."
"Okay, want me to kill them, or keep them alive for torture," grunts Marvel.
"Don't touch them!" exclaims Cato, eyes ablaze.
Clove pushes her partner towards Katniss' direction and whispers, "Go with the flow, Cato. Elora and her brother will be okay." She turns to Glimmer and Peeta and yells, "Come on! Let's go get the 'Girl on Fire'!"
Everyone cheers and they part ways.
"Where you going you little fairy!" shouts an excited Marvel.
Marvel chases after the two of us in a dead sprint. We can't keep running. We have to find a place to hide… even a tree would be a good place- My thoughts are interrupted by my brother's voice.
"Elora, there is a huge tree up ahead! We should climb it and get away from this nutcase."
I nod my head and run faster; lungs burning. Oliver makes it to the tree first and starts to ascend.
"Come on girl, you better run faster if you don't want to die!" Marvel screams, not caring about Cato's earlier rant about not touching them. Screw him. I can do what I want.
Clenching my jaw, I forget about the side stitch digging into the left side of my stomach and the cramp in my legs and sprint even faster. I hear my brother chant that I can make it. I'm almost there… almost… Next thing I know I'm getting hit from behind – hard. I tumble to the ground, my bag leaving my shoulders, and land on my hands and knees. An 'oomph' escapes my lips as I fall. I try to get back to my feet, but a weight lands on my back, earning another gasp to leave my mouth.
"Elora!" screams Oliver.
"Caught you, you little fairy," Marvel harshly whispers.
I whimper as his foot kicks my back multiple times. That's going to leave a nasty bruise. His face lingers above my ears and he starts to speak, only to grunt out in pain as he's lifted off of my back.
I shakily get to my feet and look to where he was flung. To my astonishment, Oliver is beating the living daylights out of the District 1 tribute.
"Touch my sister again and you will pay!" Oliver growls menacingly.
Marvel is cowering beside a tree as my brother is kicking his side.
"Think getting kicked feels good, huh? Well, have a taste of your own medicine!" Oliver kicks Marvel a couple more times before I tell him to stop. My brother turns to face me, eyes on fire, "Why Elora? He was going to kill you!"
Shaking my head I reply, "Oliver, I don't want you to become a killer. Leave him for someone else to kill. Maybe his group will find him and realize not to mess with us or that he's a weak link. Let's just go ok-" My voice cracks at the sight of blood rushing out of Oliver's stomach.
Marvel glances behind me and stands, eyes wide. He runs – well more like hobbles along.
I turn around and see that District 5 boy running in the opposite direction. That bastard! A tear slides down my face as I hear my brother whisper my name. He's holding onto the spear, trembling hands trying to pull the handmade object out of his abdomen.
"Ol-Olli?" I stutter. I'm frozen in my spot for a second before I dash to his side, my axe falling from the hilt on my belt – he falls, landing in my outstretched arms.
He gasps, "Elora? I…" Oliver goes limp and the weight pulls me down to the soft, moist earth.
That's when my whole body stops.
Blood. Too much blood. Spear piercing into his back. His mouth is agape, and I'm trying my hardest to keep him alive. Everything is spinning and I can't breathe. Stupid spear won't budge, it's so deep. I'm crying, and I can't seem to get them to stop flowing. He's dying… and it's my entire fault. I couldn't save him. I shouldn't have stumbled over my own two feet. I shouldn't have been scared of the District 1 boy. I couldn't protect him – my own flesh and blood!
His breathing is slowing and blood is spewing from his lips and I know he's worried about dying and he knows that I can't save him, even with the help of our sponsors. And I'm scared – for him, me, my father and Nanny… oh God! Felinia… she's watching and I can't stop the blood from flowing and I'm heading in the deep end; I just know it.
And I hear him gasp and shakily say to sing the song that mother always sang to me when I was younger. But I'm not sure if I can remember because that was such a long time ago. But I try. Just for him. Just for my Olli.
"You're here by my side,
My little butterfly.
Flying oh, so high,
By my side, my side,
My little butterfly."
He's falling into the darkness, but I don't stop.
"Flowing wind blows through
Your wings, your wings.
My little butterfly
Keep flying with
Your wings, your wings.
My little butterfly.
The sun is calling for you,
My little butterfly.
Keep going oh, so high,
So high…
My little butterfly."
I'm cradling his head and saying sorry – sorry that I couldn't stop the blood, sorry that I couldn't keep him safe, sorry that I couldn't get him back home to Felinia and to our father; that I was sorry for everything.
Oliver lifts his hand and lightly touches my cheek whispering, "It's okay Elora." He smiles, takes one last shuddering breath and then he's gone.
I feel hollow, like I'm dead. I lay Oliver's head in the grass and scuttle away to a nearby bush. I hear a Mockingjay sound the alarm for the hover. I sit and watch the men carry my brother away from me. The next thing I do is the most intelligent thing someone would do in my situation – scream. Not the smartest thing to do, but I'm pissed. No, I'm way passed pissed, I'm infuriated. Hatred is boiling in my being and I'm ready to kill the one who murdered my Olli.
I grab my bag, lift it onto my shoulder and pick up the axe I had dropped to catch Oliver. My eyes slanted, jaw clenched, knuckles white from holding the axe, I make a run in the direction of the District 5 boy.
"Did you hear that Cato? Was that Elora?" asks Clove.
A pause. "I don't know."
Glimmer snickers, "You want me to go find out?"
Cato snarls, "No. Let's stay here for the night like Lover Boy suggested. I want to be the one who catches the girl from District 7, got it?"
She throws her hands up, "Geeze, no need to be so grumpy. It's like you have a thing for that girl."
Peeta turns in Cato's direction and retorts, "You have no idea." Elora, please be okay.
"Well I don't know about you guys, but I'm beat from what happened earlier. I think I'm going to go to sleep. Night guys," replies a tired, bruised Marvel.
Into the night the fallen tributes are announced. Cato and Clove sit and watch, waiting to see if Elora or Oliver were killed.
Oliver's face fills the night sky.
I must look like a deranged human who escaped prison. My eyes are bloodshot; my face shows no amount emotion what-so-ever; my hands have even gone white from clutching my axe so tightly. I'm sure all the other tributes are after me as well, seeing as I screamed bloody murder once Oliver died, but to tell the truth, I say 'bring it'. I'm finally ready to kill.
I should have killed that boy instead of breaking his damn nose. Scrunching my eyebrows I make a left and head in the direction of where I last saw the boy take off. You can't hide forever.
My feet are about to fall off their socket, but I keep running. I have to. Everything is a blur to me. I think I pass Foxface on my way – flash of red hair. No matter. That girl has kept to herself ever since the Games started.
Trees fly by; animals cross paths with me. Before, I would have stopped to kill one, but now… now I'm too preoccupied on finding the boy who killed my brother.
An hour must have passed before I finally settle down to rest. I sit on the nearest log and open my bag. I take my canteen out and take a couple sips of the fresh water. The canteen is then placed back in the bag and my hand rumbles through my bag, in search of something to eat. My hand snatches a small bag of crackers and I instantly tear the bag open and shovel two crackers in my mouth.
Sighing, I stare up at the sky with tears in my eyes. It's beautiful – the sky above reminds me of the ocean from District 4. When I was younger, my father took me with him to visit the District. Oliver was too little at the time, so he had to stay with Nanny. I remember sitting down on the dock and letting my feet sway in the clear, blue sea. It was peaceful. Not anymore Elora. You're in the Hunger Games, nothing is peaceful now. Just blood, after blood. Nothing peaceful about that.
I can't tell how long I must have sat there. By the time I start searching again, the sun is slowly setting. I shoulder my bag and head off again.
Which way? I have no clue. I let the sounds of the crickets lead me to where I'm going.
Hopefully, you guys are still reading this and that you guys liked this chapter. It's not much, but it's what I have down so far.
I'm starting my last year of college in August. Pray for me! O_O
Also, if I have time during school I will try to write more of my story.
Have a wonderful day, mah dearies!
~!*CuteSango07*!~