Disclaimer: How can you repay that?
Portia comes into my room before the sun comes up and for a moment I'm confused as to where I am. She rests her hand gently on my arm and wears a sad smile. Instead of saying anything she just hands me some simple clothes and waits for me to get changed. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and try to understand what's going on. She leads me to the roof quietly, her hand on my arm the entire time. It's reassuring, I'm glad she's my stylist. A hovercraft appears and the ladder is let down. I touch it and I'm instantly frozen, the sensation is frightening. I'm lifted inside and then injected with some sort of tracking device. Moments after I'm released, a sharp pain in my arm where they shot me, Portia is raised up next to me.
She hasn't said anything thus far and I'm sort of grateful for the silence. She just takes my hand in hers and squeezes lightly, guiding me to the food and tipping her head as if to say eat. I'm nervous if I eat I'll throw it up, but I have to force something down. "Gale," she says quietly. I sip at a glass of water and lift my eyes to her. "It's okay to be nervous."
"I'm not nervous," I say back. Portia's eyebrows lift to her forehead and again, her smile is sad. "Stop looking at me like that."
"See, you are nervous," she says lightly. I swallow tightly and avert my eyes to the window that are suddenly being blacked out. "We're getting closer." My stomach knots and I sit back in my chair, deciding that I've had enough to eat. I resort back to silence, so does she. After awhile we're finally at the arena, being led down a tube into the catacombs of the arena. Instinctively I reach for Portia, who grabs my hand gently. "It's okay," she says again. It reminds me of Madge, how I said the same thing to her last night. How is she? Is Cinna keeping her calm? She must be scared.
Portia doesn't let go of my arm until we're well secured in the prep room. Everything is new, everything will only be used once. For me. I swallow but it won't go down and then I cough to clear my throat. Tears are stinging at the back of my eyes and my legs suddenly feel like jelly. "Gale," Portia cups my face and pulls my gaze up to her. "You can do this." I jerk my head into a nod and start pulling my clothes off. "Tell me something. Anything."
"I miss my family," I falter. My shirt is on the floor and I have to take a deep breath. "It was my brothers first reaping and I kept thinking, God, anyone but him." I push myself off the wall and continue to strip down. "I never thought…"
"Something else," she says. "Don't talk about this." Her eyes widen as she glances around the enclosed room.
"My little brother Vick, he uh, he's not the one I was worried about. He's still too young." She nods and takes a seat, watching me pull off the rest of my clothes. "He liked bugs. Like, collecting them I guess. My mom hated it, she'd always make him put them back outside. He had this jar that he'd collect fireflies in during the warmer months." She guides me over to the shower and hot water pounds on my back, I sigh with the relief it provides. I make sure to scrub every inch of my body. "And my little sister, Posy, she had this doll," my voice cracks and I rub at my face, taking another deep breath. I have to go on, I have to tell someone about my family, someone who cares. Portia cares, Portia will listen and understand me as best she can. "My mom made the doll because we didn't have money to buy one but Posy didn't care… she never cared about any of that. She just loved that doll…"
I step out of the shower a few minutes later, unable to say anything else. Portia rakes her fingers through my hair until it dries. "Your hair looked much better after Madge fixed it last night," she says lightly. I know she's trying to make me less nervous but it just stabs me in the gut. "Sorry," she says when I cringe. The clothes are delivered to the room and I slip into them wordlessly. A light green shirt, a thick hooded black jacket. "It reflects body heat."
"So it'll be cold," I grumble.
"At night," she nods. Portia makes me sit and then laces up my boots for me. Soft leather, much like the kind I had back home. Good for hunting. No, perfect for hunting. "You didn't have a token," she says sadly.
"I don't need one," I tell her. Still she frowns, her hands returning to brush through my hair once. "Portia I can't do this," I choke out suddenly. Her eyes posses a certain sadness and she shakes her head. "I can't, I can't do this, I can't kill people…"
"Look at me Gale," she forces my head into her hands and jerks my chin up so I'm lookin at her. "You're different. You're different than all of them. You have a reason to fight, to get home, and unlike them you won't let anything stop you. Think about Posy and Vick and your other brother."
"Rory," I stutter.
"Posy and Vick and Rory. They're rooting for you. I'm rooting for you. I know you can do this. I know you can. You'll be back and I'll be making you up for the Victory Tour before you know it. Okay?" I jerk my head into some sort of a nod and she smiles lightly. "It's only been what, three days since I first met you?"
"Just about," I nod slowly.
"Over that amount of time I've watched you change. You're not as angry as they all think you are. You're scared. You're kind."
"Portia," I grumble.
Her smile brightens a bit, "But most of all you're determined. You're a real winner. You don't let people fall behind, you try your best to help others."
"I can't really do that here," I nearly snap at her.
"But you will," she says gently. "You're going to have to do what it takes to win," she means I'm going to have to kill. "And you'll do it." I lock my jaw and force another nod. "You won't be letting them win if you kill," she whispers to me. I know she doesn't mean the other tributes win, she means the Capitol. "You'll always be you. You won't lose yourself. I know you won't." I'm going to have to kill people. People are going to try to kill me. Kill, kill, kill until the water runs red and I can't see anything other than black. That's what I'll have to do, but I'm not doing it for the Capitol. I'm doing it for Posy and Vick and Rory, the family that I have no choice but to get back to. "You're stronger than them."
I get up from my spot and start walking around the room, flexing my arms and stretching to see if everything fits right. "You never asked me about the interview," I tell her as I pace. Portia frowns and guides me to a chair, mumbling something about how I need to save my energy. She calls for a glass of water and I sip at it. "Why didn't you ask me about the interview?"
"You cringed when I said her name," Portia says softly. "Why are you bringing it up now?" I divert my gaze down to the cup and start drinking from it again. I don't know why I brought it up. "If you want to talk about it we can."
"I just want to talk. About something. Anything." I don't want to think about the metal plate that's a few feet away from me. The plate that'll be lifting me into the arena shortly. I need to think about something else, something that isn't Madge. Something that isn't killing and something that doesn't remind me about the shaking of my hands.
She nods as if I'm going to say something else, but I can't. I don't know what to say. "She's going to be alright, Gale," Portia says weakly. "She's a lot stronger than you think." I go back to rubbing my face, I need something to do with my hands. "So are you. You're so strong." I nod and a pleasant female voice calls out to us, telling us to prepare, and then I'm shaking my head. Portia stands and pulls me to stand as well. My legs feel like they're going to give out from under me. My knees are weak, my throat is dry. She hands me the glass of water again and I chug the rest of it.
"Tell my team they were great," I whisper, pulling Portia into my arms. In her heels she's nearly as tall as me and I can't help but smile at the awkwardness of the situation. "Even Prisca."
Portia smiles, "Tell them when you get back." She leads me over to a circular metal plate. "I'll see you soon, Gale."
"Portia," she takes a step back and keeps her face calm and collected. "Thank you. For everything." My hand reaches around and grabs at the nape of my neck, my eyes scanning the room for the last time. A glass cylinder lowers around me and I catch her wink. A steady smile spreads across her face. And then she's gone. Suddenly its dark, its dark for what feels like forever although I know it must only be a few seconds, and then I'm raised up, the scent of pine trees smothering me, the light of the sun blinding.
I blink once or twice, confused, momentarily thinking I'm back home, that this has all been just a terrible dream, but then the voice of Claudius Templesmith rings out around me. "Ladies and gentleman, let the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games begin!"
The timer on the Cornucopia is already ticking down as I adjust my vision. Cruel illusion of home, this is the arena. But I have an advantage, I realize. The similarities to my own woods must be spot on, I'll be able to maneuver this place like the back of my hand in no time. My eyes dart around the golden mass before me, taking in everything that I can. Backpacks, crates with medicines, water, food, clothing, anything I could ever ask for is all waiting there for me. Including a bow and arrow which leans right against a crate, as well as a few spears. They're too far in, I don't even considering getting either now.
It should be easy enough to get a knife though, that's what I'm going to have to do. I glance at the clock again and only a few seconds have gone by. I start making plans in my head. A few backpacks aren't too far from me, I can try and pick at least two up before heading straight for the woods. That's what I'll have to do.
My eyes pick up to study my competition. Everyone poised, ready to run. I look for Thresh who is about to dive into the bloodbath. I even study Rue who nibbles on her lip. And as hard as I try not to, I look at Undersee, bouncing on her toes impatiently, a scowl of indifference masked on her face. She doesn't look at me, won't look at me, her eyes are transfixed on the little girl, little Rue. I glance between the two confusedly, why is she so worried about her? They're rather close in distance, only about four tributes away from each other… and then the gong rings out. I jerk my head and lurch forwards, my feet start running before I realize I'm moving. My heart pounds in my chest, the sound of the gong still ringing in my ears.
I sprint as fast as I can, picking up the nearest backpack to me slinging it over my shoulder in one swift motion. It's too light, I need more. Farther, I have to go farther into the bloodbath. Grunts of agony ring out and I know the killing has already started. I keep my eye open for a flash of blonde hair but it doesn't pass me. Someone lurches at me and I jab my elbow back into their face before they can get a good hold. Their nose crunches, they whimper. I'm getting too far in, their blood is smeared across my elbow.
Posy. Rory. Vick. Watching me right now. I can't die yet. Not here. Not like this. I dive for the closest backpack, dark red, stuffed to the brim with goodies. Someone tackles me on my side and I grunt, reaching forward to pull them off of me. Their hands go for my face, my hair. My head rears back and then forwards again, sending a driving impact onto their forehead. It's a boy, I can't remember his District. In too far, I'm in too far. With him off of me holding his hand to his forehead and scrambling uneasily away, I take the opportunity to glance up. Wrong move. Another boy is already on me trying to yank the pack I already have on my back off. This one's stronger than the last one, he's succeeding. I hear the swoosh of a knife, a grunt of pain, and then he collapses over me without another sound. Blood leaks from his wounds and I push his body away from me, struggling to pull myself onto my feet.
He coughs, he's not dead yet, his sticky red liquid splatters onto my shirt. In too far. Yelps of pain, cries for help, people begging for mercy. My heart beats loudly in my ears and my feet won't grip the ground below me. I strap the backpack tighter around my back and reach for the red one in front of me again, not even daring to look at the boy who's choking on his own blood. He's gone, I can't help him. One person closer…
I need the red pack and then I'm good as gone, I can escape into the woods and make due for a bit. That's all I need, the red backpack. I give myself a few seconds to look up, to catch my breath. Cato has just reached the interior of the Cornucopia, the boy from 4 following right after slapping him on the back approvingly. Glimmer slings the quiver of arrows over her arm and Clove scans the crowd once more and spots a tribute off to the side, she doesn't hesitate to chase after her. My hand reaches forward and wraps around the handle of the bag as I prepare to run. There's one on one fighting, people skewering the area for supplies, and then there's me. It's too good to be true. I stand up, spinning around and preparing to run when I come face to face with the girl from 7. She jumps on top of me, thrashing her hands and clawing at my face, trying to lift my head and slam it back into the ground as hard as she can. Her hands reach behind her and she grabs something, presumably a knife, and my body goes stiff.
This is how I die, there's no way I'll be able to get her off. Her legs are wrapped around my chest and the surprise of the attack has got me pinned. "Get up you idiot," I hear Thom's voice. I blink once, a tall lumbering boy coming into view as the girl is suddenly slumping against me. She chokes, drops the knife from her hand that I scoop up quickly. "I said get up!" Thresh slings the red pack that I dropped over his back and pulls me up, his eyes flicking toward the Cornucopia. Satisfied, he pushes the girl so she's laying, still gasping for breath, air. I pull my view away and cringe as he pushes my shoulder. "Come on," then he races away quickly, and I follow him without question.
He saved my life. Thresh saved my life and I can't find the words to say anything, to thank him. I froze when that girl attacked me, I could've been gone. Would've been if he hadn't… done something to her. I don't know what he did to her. But she's gone. We don't talk for a long time as he leads me into the grain field; our feet keep up a consistent jog as we casually throw glances over our shoulders. This is the complete opposite direction of where I wanted to go. This area is foreign to me, I feel lost in the smothering strands of wheat. The cannons start to fire and we pause in our trek, raising our heads to listen. 1… 2… 3… 9 cannons. Nine. Only 9. There's usually at least 15. Is Madge one of them? What about Rue? Any of the careers? Thresh drops his packs and lets out a long whistle; I drop mine too. He deeps this a safe place to stop, I have choice but to listen to him as of right now. He saved me. "Why didn't you kill me?" I keep my distance for a moment, my eyes narrowed. "I was about to die, why didn't you just let me?"
"I said we'd be stronger together," Thresh crosses his arms strictly, narrowing his gaze as well. "Can't have an alliance if the other one's dead." We lock eyes for a moment and he smirks, "Would you rather me have let you die?"
"No," I snap.
"Good, glad we agree on that then. Open your pack, see what you've got." I raise an eyebrow and he lets out a laugh, "I'm not gonna kill you Hawthorne, now open your damn pack." I lower myself to the ground and extend a hand, he shakes it. Thresh isn't Thom, but he's the closest thing I've got right now. A little reminder of home. A District token in the shape of a person. "Allies?"
"Final 8?" I suggest.
"Sounds like a hell of a plan to me," he dumps his bag upside down with a smile, and I slowly let one slip onto my face as well. I know he won't kill me, and if he does he'd do it painlessly. That's always a bonus. But he won't, I know he won't. I can tell. For this moment, I feel safe, I feel content. I force the feeling away from me knowing I should never feel like that in the arena. Never. I can't let myself sink into a feeling of happiness, I need to always be on the watch. "What do you got?" I lower myself to sit, resting on my knees awkwardly as Thresh does the same.
I scan the items before me curiously, it's a decent amount of things. "Some glasses," I pick them up and place them over my eyes, "but they don't work very well."
"Night vision," he points at them, pulling them into his hands and analyzing them. "What else?"
"Rope, first aid kit, er… extra socks." Thresh snorts as I hand them to him. "Sleeping bag, oh here's a knife." I pull it out and analyze it, serrated edge, good for skinning animals after you've cooked them. Good for stabbing, too, I guess. A shiver runs down my spine as I place the backpack down. Maybe that's how Thresh killed that girl. By stabbing her. "That's it." Thresh has two more backpacks, the one he picked up himself and the one he got while rescuing me. He rescued me. I owe him. We get a few more knives, dividing them evenly, a sling shot which he takes, two water bottles, another sleeping bag, matches, water purification drops, a few packs of dried food, some jerky and crackers too. We're pretty well off for the first night in. "What do we do now?" I ask as he breaks a piece of jerky in half, handing me one and saving the other for himself. "We've got to get some water."
"Tomorrow when the careers go hunting," he says.
"What about tonight? I'll do it over by the lake." We won't last long without water, he must know that. My throats already dry, I wish I had that glass that Portia offered me earlier today. Portia, that feels like so long ago. Hours, that's all it can be. I wonder how she feels about my alliance. I wonder how anyone feels about it. How do I feel about it? I told myself I wouldn't, I told Madge I wouldn't, but here I am sharing jerky with a stranger. "I'll use the glasses and everything."
"Hey if you're up for it then be my guest," he smirks, nibbling lightly on his food. I'll consider it my payment for him saving my life. Getting us water. I glance around the field that were in, surely it's some sort of grain. Thresh notices me watching and he lounges back on his hand. "I figured they wouldn't come in here. Not yet." I nod, knowing he means the careers. We make simple conversation, strategy, what we're good at, what we'll be doing to survive. I try not to tell him too much. It's pretty calm for the first day of the Games, it could feel like an overnight trip in the woods. But it's not, that's Thresh not Katniss, and a cannon firing in the distance is what reminds me of that. We stare at each other for a moment but drop our gazes instantly. The same questions are going through our heads, was it the people from out District? Innocent Madge? Unjustly reaped Rue?
We eventually fade out of conversation knowing we shouldn't get too friendly, and then the sun slinks in the sky. Purples and blues illuminate around us, a bright moon filling the arena. I wonder if it's the real moon, it doesn't look like it. Just a projection. Moments later the Capitol anthem is being played, I suck in a sharp breath. This is it. She could be gone. Maybe if I close my eyes instead of seeing her picture… The boys from 3 and 5 and the girl from 6, both from 7, both from 8, the boy from 9 who coughed up blood on me, both from 10. The sky goes dark. I wonder if Thresh feels guilty killing someone, I wonder if anything I did contributed to a death. I don't feel any different. Should I feel different? I hear a breath of relief from Thresh and find myself doing the same. Madge wasn't in the sky tonight. I'm not sure if I wish she was, if I was this was just over with already. I don't want her to be in pain, to be suffering.
"Where do you think she is?" he asks weakly. "Rue?" Up to this point I hadn't known he cared much about her. Of course he would be concerned, but I never figured he'd bring it up. Just like I won't bring up Madge.
"Up a tree, nestled safe and sound," I supply him with the answer I deem fit. Maybe it's true, maybe it isn't. I don't know. I hope it is. I don't want to think of the careers holding her as a hostage or with her arm broken… she's only 12.
"What about yours?"
I clench my jaw, the thought is unsettling. "Up a tree. Nestled safe and sound." It's all I can bare to think right now. That Madge's safe, sleeping, hopefully with a sleeping bag. I wonder if she's cold. Hungry? Dying of thirst? There's no way to know, I shouldn't care either way. My last words to her were goodnight, not see you later. Goodnight. Now I just have to pretend she's sleeping somewhere. That when she's gone she'll just be sleeping… "I suppose I'll go get some water," I grumble, grabbing the water bottles and the glasses. "If I don't come back, don't look for me."
"Take this," Thresh tosses me a knife. "Watch your back." I nod and slowly make my way in the direction of the lake, thanking the grain that blows in the wind for the cover it gives me.
A/N: Well? I'm not really sure how to go about Thresh considering we didn't get much of him. I like my Thresh so boo ok. There won't be much just wandering around like Katniss had, this'll jump straight into action. Give me your thoughts, please.