Something is making an electronic sound. It keeps going ding, ding, ding, ding. . . .
It sounds kind of like the elevator in the Tribute Center, but I know it can't be that. There are no elevators here.
I open my eyes, trying to see what it is, but then remember that I no longer have the privilege of sight either. So instead, I grope outwards, searching for the source of the sound. As I do, I notice that Mark's body is no longer there.
He's really dead. I really killed him, I think.
No. I can't think like that. I can't think of Mark or Peter or Rebecca, the boy and girl from Seven or that creep from Eleven. If I want to win, I can't.
My hand finally falls on a small, round metal object. For a moment, I wonder what it is. Then it hits me: it's a gift from a sponsor! I quickly sit up and immediately regret it, crying out in agony. My shoulder is a throbbing, sore, bloody mess. I sit for a while, trying to steady my breath and stop crying, but when I can't, I simply continue my task with the parachute. I only use one of my hands, so it takes a while. When I finally get it open, I tip it over my lap and something even smaller falls between my thighs. I discard the original container and pick up my mysterious present.
I study the surface of it with my fingers. From what I can entail, it's a plastic sphere with a line cutting through the middle. For a second, I think it's lip balm. It wouldn't be so unbelievable for someone from the Capitol to send me something for my chapped lips, though it would be absolutely pointless.
I slowly twist the little capsule open. When the cap finally pops off, a little automated voice says, "Apply generously to all wounded areas." I sigh in relief. It's medicine, not lip balm.
I set the capsule on my lap again and dip two fingers into what is probably a very advanced medical salve. I then slowly rub it onto the wounds on the front and back of my left shoulder. The medicine takes quick effect. The pain from my shoulder instantly numbs. I continue to put the salve over the bruises on my neck and torso, the scratches on my hands and the rupture in my gums from Mark's shoe.
After I'm done, I find a tree to lean back on. I relax for a while and eventually fall asleep.
Somehow, two thoughts breach through my slumbering stupor. The first one being that I'm starving and have no way of getting food.
The second one? It's my birthday.
The Games started on the eleventh of August and it's been four days since then, making this the fifteenth. I had been waiting for this birthday my whole life. I mean, turning fifteen on the fifteenth? What could be cooler than that? But for some reason, being in an extremely imminent life or death situation tends to drown out excitement.
Therefore, I push my birthday out of my mind, deciding that I'll just celebrate it once I'm out of the arena, even though I'll be alone.
I slowly stand up, which isn't so hard now that my shoulder has healed significantly. I find that my other wounds have healed completely as I search on the ground for my belongings, hoping that they weren't destroyed in the fight. I come upon the small plastic bundle of berries that Peter had collected after we had discovered that I was blind. There's a good amount to them as we were just saving them in case times got rough, like for instance, now.
Without really thinking about it, I quickly down half the berries before I realize that this could be all the food I have until the end of the Games. It was the only thing we had left over except for a cooked squirrel, but that had probably gone rotten or had been eaten by something else by now.
I resolve to look for some plants that I can pull out of the ground for their edible roots. I begin starting out, but then ram into a bush, falling onto it. After heaving myself up, I get Mark's bow to use as a walking stick, then slowly make my way out of the think enclosure of trees. After a while, I begin to hear the water from the steaming lake hiss and lap against the shore of the little island.
Before he had lost his mind, Mark had told me that there were a series of small plants littering the outskirts of the beach. I get down on my knees on the hot sand, feeling around for them. After five minutes of shuffling about, my fingertips skim across a series of leaves with similar textures. I run my hand over them, come to a stem and then follow it down to the roots. Unfortunately, I find that the roots are dry, so I search for more.
After a good couple of hours, the simulated sun decides to stop beating on my back. I've collected a good amount of moist roots to feast on and I decide to just stay on the beach for the night, not knowing how to get back to wherever I was before.
As I'm about to doze off, loud music suddenly starts playing for the announcement of dead tributes. Two cannons had gone off earlier today, though of course, I can't see who.
This means that there are only three of us left: me and two of the strongest or smartest contenders. The Gamemakers will probably kill one of us off before that final showdown to determine the victor.
I haven't decided whether I want to win yet, so I'm torn. While I don't want to face off against one of the other tributes, which I'm sure Crimmons will somehow arrange, I also don't want to have some sort of lame, lonely death here on the island.
Then again, the death of the third to last tributes may be anything but lame. In fact, the Gamemakers will probably send a mutt after him-slash-her-slash-me. Doesn't that sound horrific.
Well, then it's decided, I think to myself, growing tired. I'll just have to win.
I wake hours later, grains of cool sand smothering my face to tell me that it's still night. For a moment, I can't tell what's woken me.
Suddenly, I hear a series of earth-shaking thuds, accompanied by something even worse: a terrible roar. I can tell that it's far away, probably on the mainland, but that doesn't make the terror subside.
A loud hiss follows shortly after, and I can feel the heat of flames even from this distance.
A mutt, I ponder in disbelief. A fire-breathing mutt. Holy crap.
From its screams, the mutt seems to be some sort of elephant-tiger-Godzilla hybrid. I can hear the crunching and snapping of branches and large trees as they burn and fall to the ground. What I can't hear are the small, terrified little shrieks of the other tributes, but I'm sure they're there.
In a numb panic, I surge upward to my feet, giving myself a head-rush. I stagger around towards where I think I was earlier, trying to find the small hand-ax that girl had thrown at me.
I know that I'm going to be one of the two final tributes now. I will have to confront whomever it is that the Gamemakers are going to send over here. I have to be ready to fight for my life, despite my blindness and whatever element of surprise that the other tribute may have. I'll need whatever I have at my disposal and that short and sturdy blade will have to do.
I finally reach an area with the distinct scent of blood in the air. Knowing that this is the place, I search around for the tree that I was standing at when the hand-ax sunk into it.
After the fourth tree I've tried, my hands fall upon a large steady trunk. I stroke upwards and then to the right until my nails scratch against a smooth surface. I get excited and whip my other hand over, resulting in a slash against my ring finger from the blade. I wince and suck on it, using my other hand to grasp the handle and pry it from the wood.
As I'm weighing it on my palms later, my scattered thoughts fall together:
The biggest fight of my life is about to take place. I have to win, there isn't going to be another shot after this one. It's do or die.
This is the finale.