~I must be strong and carry on~
Everything hits me like a sudden blow when I first see the rays of sunlight. So many people are gone. Children who never did anything wrong and children who were twisted into doing so.
Atom. His face in the sky was an ice cold glare, but his eyes were pleading. Pleading for someone's help, for someone to offer him a hand.
Lacey, who I know so little about but must have been feeling so cold and alone when she died.
Bree, the girl who tried so hard to save a little boy's life, but failed to save even her own in the end.
Glimmer, who had the most confident smile I've ever seen, and yet was gone so soon.
David. The boy with so much inner strength that no one will ever know about.
Garrett, the brilliant boy who just turned around a split second too late.
Marvel, someone with no one to turn to. Whose real reason for killing might never be understood by anyone but me.
Rue. The girl who won over everyone's heart, yet everyone knew couldn't win
There is actual pain when all the faces are in my head. It comes from deep inside my chest, a dull achy feeling that I can't shake for the rest of the day. I can't help but think who might be next. Will it be me? I know I can't last for much longer. There remaining tributes are composed of 2 Careers and 3 others who all scored an eight or above. And there's me, who scored a 5. So really, I don't even try to hope. I don't even have a weapon.
"Attention tributes, there has been a slight rule change."
The oily voice causes me to jolt up. It's coming from the sky. Must be the announcer. I sit on my heels, desperate to find how this may benefit me.
"We have decided that this year, two tributes may both win, providing they are from the same district. Good luck, and may the odds be in your favor."
My heart sinks. I'm not affected by this, and neither is Thresh. No one is on our side.
Throughout the day, I feel slow. Like there are weights on my feet. I hate this feeling. One of the worst feelings in the world for me is not feeling alert or awake. I sit by the spring and splash some cold water on my face. After a while, I just sit there, dangling my hands in the water. That's what I'm doing when I hear footsteps.
My body freezes. Don't move, Finch. Just don't make a sound.
The first thing I register in my mind is that the footsteps don't sound like they belong to a larger tribute. In fact, they're rather light. Hardly noticeable at all. I shouldn't be frightened.
But I am so wrong.
A swishing dark ponytail is the first thing I see. The same perfect one it has been these whole Games. The pale face suddenly snaps around and I'm face to face with dark, glittering green eyes.
It's Clove.
She crosses her arms, a smirk plastered on her petite face. "Well, what do we have here?" She tilts her head to the side. "Oh, so you're the one we keep forgetting about, huh?"
My body is still hunched over, frozen in fear. My heart feels as if it has stopped.
Clove draws a blade from the pouch on her belt. "Hmm. Guess everyone else will be forgetting about you soon enough." She grins.
"Wait!" I splutter. Clove looks momentarily taken aback.
I clear my throat. "I don't think you want to do that." I say in a much less shaky voice.
Clove smirks again, but her eyes look genuinely curious. She's only 14, Finch. Keep that in mind. How hard can this be?
"Where's Cato?" This time it's my turn to smile.
Clove's eyes widen slightly. I can tell she knows where I'm going with this. "He's hunting." She says quickly.
"Without you?" I try to sound confused here. "Come on Clove, I know about you two."
Clove's smirk becomes a look of shock. But she quickly recovers, turning into a sneer. "Oh, and how's that gonna save your life, huh?"
I clear my throat again. "Well let's think about this Clove. It seems to me that, even though there was that rule change a short time ago, Cato is distancing himself from you. I'm sure before he never wanted you out of his sight. He thinks you might lose. But what he doesn't realize is that there's a chance he might too. Katniss, Peeta and Thresh are some pretty formidable enemies you've got there. "
Clove reaches her hand towards the pouch of knives again. "Cato cut Peeta up pretty badly, you know. Where have been these whole Games?"
But I continue, trying to look unfazed. I want her to think that it's me who has the upper hand. "Let's say, just theoretically here, that neither of you win. No one will ever know about you, the real lovers. But I do. And let's say, theoretically again of course, that I win. I'll know about you two. I'll remember you and I can tell others about you." I pause. "Let's face it Clove, no matter how you try to cover it up, you aren't completely fearless. You're afraid of being forgotten."
Clove's jaw tightens. Her eyes at first are bright with anger, but suddenly, they soften. "All right." She whispers. "You win this time." She stiffens again. "But only because you aren't even a threat. I'll let Fire Girl finish you off, for all I care."
And with that, the girl with the secret weakness melts back into the trees.
I am left sitting there in disbelief, not quite registering what just happened.
Clove is wrong about Katniss. I have seen her twice during these Games and both times I'm sure she saw me. But neither time to did she make even the slightest effort to kill me. Why? Is it because, like Clove, she doesn't view me as a threat? Or is it something more?
I don't know why, but I heave a large sigh. My body feels exhausted, likely from my lack of food. I crawl back into David's little den.
Being alone gives me a lot of time to think. But that's not really something I want to do.
My mind wanders to my parents. I scrunch up my eyes and slowly try to piece together all the memories I have. I remember being hoisted up on a man's legs, my arms spread wide. All around me, there was the pure white of the bed sheet. I can picture a woman laughing as ran into the room wearing her skirt. And I can remember both of them around my bed, stroking my head with soft fingers and singing. I don't remember what they were singing. I don't even remember what they looked like. But those were my parents.
There are no bad memories. No fights. No tears. We loved each other that I'm sure of. So why did they go? Andrea is right. She has to be. My parents were underground rebels.
But I force myself to push this all aside. It's cold and I'm alone. I don't want these other heavy thoughts weighing me down.
"Attention tributes."
A second announcement? What?
"Each of you needs something. Desperately."
I bite my lip. I have water and shelter, but more than anything I need food. Something to keep me going. All I've had to eat were tiny apples, stale crackers, tough jerky and small almost inedible plans. I'm starving and I know it. If I don't get some real food soon, I won't have the energy to get up tomorrow.
"There will be a feast at the Cornucopia at dawn. Good luck."
The voice signs off with a click. The Cornucopia at dawn. I will be there.
Evidently, neither of the Careers' hunting went well. There were no deaths today. But there will be tomorrow.
I force myself to get up just as the tips of the sky are changing from deep blue to grays and pale pinks. The air is still cold and I shiver slightly as I walk. It's still a little dark out here. The leaves crunch beneath my boots. I push a strand of hair out of my face. When I first woke up, I fixed my hair and put it back into the tight buns again. It just felt like the right thing to do. And it calmed me just a bit.
I hear a crunch behind me and I whip my head around. But there is no one there. It's just me and the shadows. I cross my arms over my chest. Head bent, I continue walking. I want to arrive there first. Or else I'll have to face one of these intimidating tributes face-to-face again. And that will get me killed in an instant.
Except for Thresh. I'm not sure what would happen if I ran into him. I've seen the way the Games twist people. You think you can trust someone, but then you end up with a knife in your back. I always Thresh was too good for that. But I can never be all the way sure.
Finally, I see the tip of the structure rising above the trees. The sky has grown light. I drop my arms to my side and take a deep breath. The air seems to catch in my lungs. Can I really do this?
I shoot off. With my toes barely touching the grass, which is still wet from dew, I focus straight in front of me. And without a moment's hesitation, I run right through the Cornucopia.
I didn't even know that there was a hole in the back end, but that is why I am suddenly at the front. I grab the bag marked "5" and take off for the trees.
There was no plan. This is exactly how I used to always do things. I'm sure the others were just standing on the edge, their eyes full of fear, unsure of when to move. What they don't know is that it's far easier to just do it. I'm suddenly reminded of a game we used to play in school. Some children would be "Peacekeepers" and all the rest of us would go behind a line and be "thieves." We would have to run across the blacktop without getting caught. Everyone just stood there after the whistle blew, but I was always the first to go. Sometimes I got caught, but usually I didn't.
I guess today I didn't.
I stumble into the bushes and collapse into a fall. I catch my breath. And that's when I see it.
The sky has grown dark.
I tilt my head up, expecting something truly horrible. But instead, it's a giant hovercraft. My mouth falls open. What? Is this some kind of sick trick the Gamemakers are pulling?
At the edge of the field, Katniss stands, her arms shaking at her sides. Clove stands just a few feet from her. It's a wonder they haven't seen each other. In any other circumstance, Clove would have her pinned on the ground with a knife at her throat, but they're just standing there in shock. And Clove looks scared. A slight movement to the left of Clove tells me that Thresh is somewhere behind. He emerges, his mouth agape. We lock eyes.
A claw with some kind of stretcher shoots down. I've seen this before. It's what they used to collect Lacey's body. It's what they use to collect all the dead ones.
And it's coming straight for me.
"I'm not dead!" I suddenly scream. The stretcher drops down and the claw encloses around my waist. "I'm not dead!" I scream again, louder this time. "I'm right here." I say softly, my body going limp. The only support is the stretcher beneath me and the claw around me.
I'm right here.
"Finch!"
My name is screamed so loudly I feel like I'm crumbling. It was Thresh. His voice sounds so pained.
A hatch above me opens. Just as I'm being pulled through, I see other hovercrafts in the sky. The air is filled with screams.
But here it is silent.
Everywhere, people dressed in blinding white surround me. Their faces are looks of concern.
But this can't be right. No one here shows concern. No one but Thresh. I can't trust any of these people. It's a trick. A trap. The Gamemakers want me to feel comfortable and safe and then, and then…
"I'm not dead!" I scream so loudly I can feel my voice turn raw. I see a flash of silver.
"Please." I whisper.
And then everything goes black.
When I come to, all I can see is white again. There is softness all around me, and a warmth spread all over my body. But there is a figure sitting next to my bed. A figure wearing pale peach. I blink several times until my vision is no longer blurry.
The figure is Andrea!
It is, without a doubt, my mentor. And yet, it isn't. Her eyes are bright and alert, not glazed over and trying to shut everything out. Her hair is pulled back in a perfect bun without a hair out of place. All I've ever seen is wild, thin hair flying all over the place. She wears a bright top with ruffles on the sleeves, sleek black pants, and shoes that shine in the whiteness of the room. Several large bracelets dangle from her wrists.
"Well hello Finch. I'm happy you finally woke up." She gives me a bright smile, so unlike her tired, weary one.
I sit up on my elbows. The pillow against my back feels softer than anything I've ever known. "You look so different!" I blurt out.
Andrea just laughs. It's a high, almost musical sound. "Why thank you."
"Are you off your morphine?" I'm blurting things out again.
But Andrea just tilts her head and smiles again. "Oh Finch, I haven't touched a morphine drip in months."
I fall back onto my pillow. Andrea sees the shock on my face.
"It started last year, right when the Games were over. President Snow paid a visit to my house."
I let out a gasp. "The President came to your house!? Why?"
Andrea's face turns serious. "He told me that 5 hadn't won the Games at all since I became the mentor. He said people were staring to get suspicious. Of course, Careers should be winning most of the time, but it's always good to throw in an unexpected victory, so long as it isn't from 10, 11 or 12. But tributes from 5, previously well-liked in the Capital for their tendency to strategize, hadn't won in far too long. So to give me some incentive, he said he planned to rig the next Reaping."
"Rig?" I stammer.
She nods silently. "Yes. He said he was going to pick a child of two well-known underground rebels who had managed to escape him." Andrea pauses when she sees me face. "I don't know where they are Finch and it seems no one else does. Anyway, I knew I had to protect this child, whoever she was. So I got some help from a Capital specialist and was off the morphine shortly. I have been ever since. It would look too strange to others if I suddenly gave it up for no reason, so I simply pretended."
I take a deep breath and let it settle in my still-woozy brain. My parents were well-known rebels. They escaped death. No one knows where they are. They could be here. Wherever "here" is.
"Andrea, where are we?" I finally say.
"We're in District 13, Finch. District 13."
