Beale
The numbness from last night is wearing off. I'm going to need some more morphling soon if I'm going to get through mentor duty today. I settle down in the common room after agreeing to keep an on Haymitch's tribute as well as my own. Mags has the job of watching out for Hoster's while he and Haymitch grab a few hours of sleep upstairs. Technically we aren't allowed to watch each other's tributes but what the Capitol doesn't know won't hurt them. The boy from District 12 and the one from 10 have just woken up in their tree and are wolfing down some of the food from their packs. After they eat they decide to go looking for more food since what they have won't last long. They found some raspberry bushes about a half mile from their hideout and set to work picking them. This they did wordlessly, not daring to speak until they got back to their hideout in the trees, fearing they might miss the sound of something or someone getting ready to attack them. They pick a decent amount of the red berries and load them into Jed's backpack and set out for the stream to refill their water bottles.
They don't make it far before there's suddenly a scream, more like a battle cry, and a form leaps out of a tree in front of Jed and Halvar. It's the boy from District 7 and he's armed with a spear. He's about 16 and his name is Cypress. He looks like a strong kid whereas Jed is little and skinny and Halvar isn't much bigger than him. Before either Jed or Halvar have time to react Cypress's spear pierces Jed's chest. His eyes widen and he emits a little cry, gripping the shaft of the weapon embedded in his body. Halvar's reaction is instantaneous. A look of rage transforms his face into a mask of hatred and he spins around, launching his hatchet into the boy from 7's skull. Blood splashes onto Halvar's face as Cypress's cannon booms. Jed whimpers from the ground where he has fallen and Halvar quickly turns to him. "He's dead Jed; I killed him for you, ok?" Halvar says to his dying friend. Jed smiles.
"Good, that's what he gets for throwing this thing into me," Jed whispers. "Thanks Halvar." Jed's eyes close and his cannon echoes through the arena. Halvar had been carrying the pack with the berries in it but without the hatchet that was in Cypress's head or the spear that had run through Jed he would be weaponless. I wondered what he would do, if he would have the stomach to remove the weapons from the boy's dead bodies. Slowly Halvar turned to Cypress and tugged on his hatchet. The axe was lodged deeply in the dead boy's skull and Halvar had to put his foot on Cypress's chest to dislodge it. Once the hatchet was free Halvar turned back to the body of his tiny ally. He grasped the handle of the spear, put his foot on the boy's stomach and looked down at him. "I'm sorry buddy," he whispered and then yanked the spear free. He stumbled backwards as he did so and fell to his knees. He sat there for a second before he began to wretch, throwing up everything he had eaten for breakfast. Poor kid just sat there for a while before he was able to pull himself to his feet and collect the spear and hatchet from the forest floor. He started to walk away but turned around, looked at Jed's body and whispered "Goodbye friend."
When he reached the stream Halvar sat down to wash the blood from his face and hands and his weapons as well. He filled up his water bottle and Jed's canteen which had been in the backpack and slowly made his way back to camp where he climbed up onto his platform and lay sprawled on the boards staring at nothing.
Shit. Now I was going to have to call upstairs and tell Hoster his boy was dead. I'd go up there but I can't leave our tributes with no one to watch over them. I get up and walk to towards the phone, patting blight on the shoulder on the way. "Sorry man," I say. He sighs and shrugs "That's how it goes. I'll go up and tell Hoster if you want," he offers. "I don't have anyone to watch now," he adds looking at the ground.
I just nod mutely and Blight turns towards the bank of elevators. I make my way into the District 6 mentor booth and shut the door. I just need to be alone in here for a while. I lean down and take a vial of morphling and a syringe out of our stash. As the chemical flows into my veins it feels like heaven itself is washing over me. I no longer have to feel the horrifying shock that comes with watching children die on television. I don't have to feel anything, just a nice, comfortable, numbness.