The first step of anything is bound to be the hardest. So imagine just how difficult it is to be standing on the edge of an unwelcoming, overgrown, abandoned park, which is potentially full of terrifying altered beasts with an overwhelming bloodlust, whilst accompanied by a girl you've been lying to for the last two days – whom you don't particularly trust – with the possible threat of your impending death, whether or not you venture into the untended mass of greens and browns in front of you. Then you'll know exactly how I feel right now.
Beta and I discuss at length who will go in first, because neither of us really wants to. It's about 8a.m., and we arrived here after walking, again, all night.
"Personally, I think you should go. You're stronger than me and you're not even scared!" she says.
"How do you know I'm not terrified, Bee?" I've taken to using a shortened version of her name, a nickname, because of my continuous false claim that she is my best friend. She seems to be fairly easy to string along, but now she seems dead set on me protecting her more than anything. Stupid of the poor cow, really, because I intend on slitting her throat tonight.
"Because, you got a 12 in training and that's fucking rare. Not to mention you have an air of absolute intrepidity about you, and everyone can see that."
"But would you not rather have me at your back, protecting you from behind."
"Not really. Who's to say you haven't been lying this whole time and you plan to stab me in the back without giving me half a fighting chance?"
Shit, she's onto me. I cock my head to the side and put on some false, puppy eyes.
"Don't be silly. I promised I'd look after you and that's what I'm going to do, Bee."
For a second Beta looks unconvinced, then the next she's smiling.
"Alright. How about we just go in at the same time?"
"Why didn't I think of that?"
"Mags, you can't be strong, beautiful and clever. Only two, sweetie."
I laugh outwardly, but inside I'm tearing her to shreds with my hatchet. If this bitch insults me one more time, I swear these images will become a reality.
"Together, then?" I hold my hand out and she takes it right away.
"Together."
Beta smiles and we walk hand-in-hand through the first patch of unruly long grass. It's around waist-height, so there could be anything below its surface, but we run through it quickly, not willing to find out if our suspicions are confirmed. Her hand is clammy against my own. She's more scared than she let on. Every so often we have to dodge to avoid trees, and once or twice my clumsy companion trips on a root or a fallen branch.
"There's a clearing up ahead, run faster Bee!"
A few seconds later, we're there. The grass is unusually short compared to the rest of our surroundings. Dotted here and there are holes filled with something I've longed to see for ages. Beautiful, golden sand. There are semi-decayed balls of some sort lying around. They seem to have been white at some point in the past, but now they're a dirty yellowing colour, spotted brown from years of disintegration.
Hundreds of trees line the clearing, all compact and secure. It's almost like the prison courtyard I saw once whilst flicking through the TV channels at home.
"Right, whatever you do, don't go near those sand patches. I've watched enough Games to know that sand pits are never kind to tributes. Those ball things don't look safe either, so try not to touch those."
"Yes, boss." Beta gives another of her hilarious mock salutes and plops herself down as far from either of the aforementioned obstacles as possible. I sit down next to her and place my weapons at my side.
"Fancy a drink?" I say.
"Sure, bestie."
I yank open a backpack (I've still not let her carry anything – except now it's because I've told her that she needs to keep her strength up in order to escape if needs be, though this is, of course, a lie) and pull out one of my water bottles. It's still half full, and I have another full one left.
"Let's not drink too much. Even if we do find a lake or something, there's a good chance that'll be acidic now as well."
"Good thinking. Hand us the bottle, would you?"
I smile and comply. She drinks it greedily, draining it down to a quarter-full. Thanks for following my advice, bitch.
Once more, we sit and talk for a while, reminiscing about good memories we have of our districts and our families. Beta tells me about the time her sister got a slight electric shock from her first practice circuit board, whatever the hell that is, and how the little girl's hair had stood on end for weeks. I laugh, even though it's not funny to me in the slightest. Truth be told, the various times she's told me about her family, I've not given two shits what she has to say. My mind is constantly filled with thoughts of betraying Beta and winning, getting home to my family, and the wonderful future that lies ahead of me. It doesn't matter if I lie to her, everyone has done something similar in the last ten Games. 'Don't trust anyone,' they say, 'not even your best friend.'
If you've ever known a person who can talk about him or herself for hours on end, you have experienced what I am currently burdened with. Apparently Beta has an unending tirade of bullshit flowing from her mouth.
"... and then my Dad was like 'Beta, get down from there!' but I was all 'Dad, I'm trying to fix the TV antenna so you can watch your stupid shows'. And then-"
"Bee, please shut up." I say, rubbing my forehead with my thumb and index finger.
"Oh, sorry."
"I don't mean to moan, I just have a headache and- What's that?" There's a distinct rustling from the trees.
"What? What is it?"
"Sh! Listen!"
It's there again, louder, closer. The leaves flutter, and a part of me hopes it's just the wind. But obviously, that part of me is a moron for not considering the fact that I am currently in the Hunger Games and nothing is ever 'just the wind'.
A mass of grey, white and black storms into the clearing, circling above us. At a glance, they look like pigeons. I remember Charon showing them to us as we drove through the Capitol. But there's something off about them. There's a hint of gold in the bustle of monochrome birds. I grab my axe whilst trying to get a better look. It's odd... Their wings seem to have been dipped in a golden liquid, and appear uncommonly sharp as they glint in the sunlight. But there's something else. Their beaks and claws look like jewellery of the finest sort, the kind one never would see in District 4.
"Beta, get your knife." But I needn't tell her, she's already prepared.
The first reaches me, and I drive my axe upward, tearing it in half. Up close, they're much larger than they had seemed before, at least two feet in length with a five feet wingspan. This is going to be more of a challenge than I thought.
Following their leader, the flock of pigeon mutts dive as I reassume my battle stance. I stand back to back with Beta as the birds encircle us. We lash out forwards and sideways, narrowly avoiding one another's attacks in our attempts to take down as many of the birds as we can. The huge feathered fiends are relentless in their attacks. One claws its way forward and pecks at my forearms, leaving a slight gash across the right one. Another yanks Beta's hair, almost tearing a huge chunk from her skull before she swipes at it with her knife and slices one of its wings off. Mostly, they seem to be aiming for our eyes with their horrific golden beaks, obviously trying to blind us and prevent us from attacking them.
"Beta! We need to get into the trees again! We'll have better cover there!" I shout to her, even though she's within a foot's distance.
"Okay. Grab your bags and run, I'll hold them for a second!"
"No! I'm not leaving you! We'll each take a pack and run together. Ready?"
"Yep!"
"Three..." I thrust out with my axe and cut down three pigeons.
"Two..." Beta slices across the bodies of two that almost tear both her eyes out.
"One... Go!" Each of us slashes forward and around ourselves as we race to our packs. They're only a metre or so away but, as I'm sure you can imagine, it's not easy getting to them when you've got hundreds of enormous pigeons trying to devour your face. Beta, being a tad shorter than I, manages to dodge a few of them and slip under and out of the circle, snatch up the closest pack and dash for the nearest section of trees. I follow her with the other backpack and we tear through the shaded forest as quickly as we possibly can. After a good five minutes of running, and an awful lot of blood and sweat, the pigeon mutts give up their chase and head back in the direction they came.
Beta and I stop, buckled over.
"Well that... was fucking... annoying," I say, panting.
"Why does it... feel like... the Gamemakers... are only... targeting us?"
"Because they want to turn us against one another, for one of us to leave the other behind," I say, having regained my breath. It takes Beta a considerable while longer to do so, and I slump down against an aged oak tree. She sits at my side and I offer her some water. Between us, we finish the second bottle. I've only one left now.
The grass is long enough around us to conceal us from oncoming foes, but at the same time, it provides them with the cover needed to sneak up on us. It's a curse and a blessing.
"Can we just... stay here for a while?" Beta says, drowsily. It must be around 3p.m., so I don't blame her for being tired.
"Sure, Bee." I let her rest her head on my shoulder. I'm getting very good at this best friend act, and somewhere inside me there's probably a girl who wishes I felt as strongly about this friendship as Beta does. Alas, that isn't the case. She's going to drift off soon, then I'm going to take her knife, which she has so carelessly dropped closer to me than herself, and slice her throat open.
About half an hour later, she mutters while she dreams. I hear mention of her sister, and the mother whom left her. Ignore her, I think, just pick up the knife and do it. I look across to the gift the sponsor sent her. It lies pointed at me, a foot away. The afternoon sun reflects off the blade so brightly, tempting me to pick it up. I reach out my uninjured arm and wrap my fingers around the handle.
The sun glints off its blade again as I raise it slowly to Beta's neck. I let it rest for a second, not piercing the skin. With any luck she'll move in her sleep and I won't have to do any of the work. But I should, I have to. It's the only way of getting home.
I can just picture the entirety of Panem right now, eyes glued to their screens, wondering whether or not I'm going to do it. Do I give them the pleasure of witnessing my deceit? Or do I let them hang onto the hope that I care about her for a little while longer? Obviously, now, they know of my true intentions. Hell, maybe some of them had even worked it out before this.
Beta stirs again, distracting me from my thoughts.
"Mom... come back..." she mumbles.
I can't do it. I've no idea what's wrong with me but I can't bring myself to kill this girl. For the last eight years I've trained myself to be the deadliest person in District 4 (disregarding that one guy who tore his own parents' throats out with fishhooks), and now I'm incapable of doing the one thing I thought I would be good at. Even more strangely, I have no genuine feelings for this girl. Maybe I'm starting to believe my own lies, though.
I drop the knife back to its place and sigh. Stop this Mags, get your shit together. You can kill, you can. Just don't focus on the fact that you turn into a crazed freak afterwards. Just do it. Breathe slowly. In. Out. In. Out. Pick up the knife again. Pick it up. Do it.
I'm not going to do it, not yet anyway.
Carefully, I lift Beta's head from my shoulder and set it down on the ground. She breathes heavily but doesn't wake up, luckily. Taking up my hatchet and strapping my axe to my back, I stand up and scan the forest around us. It's shaded, but the sun still breaks through the leaves above enough to see far in the distance. The trees, however, pose quite a problem. They're so tightly packed after years of neglect that it's hard to see if anything's lurking behind them.
I walk around. Beta will be fine, concealed by the long grass. As outdated and untended as this place is, it really is beautiful. Having spent most of my life on beaches, the forest is a welcome sight. The multiple shades of green cast a splendid ocean of colour across the semi-visible floor. Through the gaps in the trees, bright shafts of sunlight beam like rays from an alien craft. Everything here is so foreign to me. So different to my home life, but it's a great experience.
Every so often a rabbit or a squirrel scurries past, and I manage to pin a couple with my hatchet. I head back after two hours to find Beta has woken up. She sits under the oak, rubbing the smooth edge of her knife against her fingertips.
"Hey, you," I say, dropping my kills next to her, "how d'you sleep?"
"Pretty good. Where've you been?"
"Just got those, obviously," I say with a wink.
"Oh, yeah."
"Weren't you worried?"
"I figured you'd be alright. I mean, you are the Great Mags Oracle."
I laugh off her compliment. But she's right, I am pretty great.
We both decide that starting a fire would be a stupid idea, as we've discussed before. Furthermore, the mass of grass would just be a hassle to remove. Though it's unhealthy, we choose to eat raw meat from my kills. I skin both the rabbits and the red squirrel. Given that I've little knowledge of how to do this, it comes quite naturally to me. Like gutting a fish, just less slippery. Within around 45 minutes, I've cut off a few fillets of meat for both of us, and we make the most of them, regardless of how vile they taste.
"Ugh, if I get food poisoning, I'm blaming you!" Beta says through a mouthful of rabbit.
Once we finish our repulsive meal, I remind her that we're still on the run from the Careers and we begin another trek.
It's difficult to stay standing, having had no sleep for over 24 hours now. Beta seems awfully cheery though. I ignore her as we walk along through the forest. I let my fingers glide over the tops of the blades of grass, it's a soothing feeling.
The sun seems to weigh me down even more than my backpacks and weapons do. My eyes feel heavier than they have all day. Silly of me, really, to think that raw meat would give me even the slightest bit of energy. All it did was leave a disgusting taste in my mouth – a taste that seems permanent.
We walk for hours, it feels, and my legs are on the verge of falling off. But I have to keep moving. I have to keep myself safe. I have to get home. Thaddeus. Mother. Eri. Sedna.
My mind is so rattled with thoughts that I've only just noticed how distant my companion's footsteps sound. A moment ago I could hear the rustling and soft wave of the grass as she walked next to me. Now she sounds miles away. My unrested mind is probably playing tricks on me. I gaze across to where she should be, but she isn't there.
"Bee?"
I've only turned a centimetre before a sharp pain ripples through my back, from my left shoulder blade spreading outwards.
I crumple forward and drop to the floor, twitching, wanting to scream. Blood rushes to my brain as my vision blurs and the forgotten forest ahead becomes a huge mess of nothing. My eyelids close of their own accord and I'm drowning in darkness. But I can hear it, just before I'm completely submerged in my subconscious. The cannon's boom is unmistakeable.