A/N- Sorry for the late update...again :( This was going so well up until halfway through, when my brain decided to give me the gift of Writers' Block. Hurrah. Thankfully, I got over it and finished the second half yesterday and this morning! Yay! So without futher delay, I present to you, the first chapter of 'Outsiders'... Hope you like it x
Lissie, (Brandon's sister) POV
I stare at the blank sheet of tattered paper. The curling corners from age and the rough texture of quality. The piece has been dyed a faded yellow, again from age.
The pen in my hand feels warm, the friction is low from the small beads of sweat on my palm. I haven't written a single word yet. I want to, but I can't. Nothing sounds right today. Every time I try to forge some letters, some words, I stop myself. The nib of the pen never quite manages to touch the paper.
I have written letters before; lots of them in fact. They're all rolled up, tied with string, and hidden in my bottom drawer, behind my socks. No-one's found them yet, it's quite a good hiding place. Even Mom doesn't go in there, after the grasshopper incident. She said she nearly fainted with the shock of a huge green bug leaping out at her. I wish I could have seen it.
So now, my clean clothes are always left on my bed for me to put away. Mom doesn't even come near the small chest of drawers, hence the reason why I hide things in there.
I click the end of the pen and the point slides back in. Sighing, I put the pen back in the washed out jar I use as a pencil pot and return the paper to the top of the pile.
The paper and pen aren't actually mine; they're my Dad's. Were my Dad's. He came home with the set one day and announced that he as going to start writing letters. We laughed at him at first, but he did actually start writing. To a 'pen pal' he told us, but soon later, when I was about seven, he left one day. Just wasn't there when I got home from school. All of his stuff went too. Except his writing set. Brandon told me that he went to stay with his pen pal. I know now that his pen pal was a woman.
"Ouch" I trap my finger in the drawer.
The tip of it is red now and it hurts a little. I suck on it to release the pain, while uncovering the letters with my other hand. They're all still there, untouched and intact. I smile to myself with the relief that my secret is still a secret and push the socks back over the letters. Once they're sealed again, I close the drawer, careful to avoid getting another finger trapped.
"Lissie! The Games are about to begin!" Someone shouts from the lounge.
"Coming!" I call back, pulling my finger from my mouth and standing up.
I walk through to the lounge, where Mom is sitting on the faded sofa with Robyn and Louisa on either side of her rigid body. She looks nervous and worried, but seems to be acting calm to my younger sisters. I'm two years older than Robyn and there's two years between her and Louisa, but I still feel much older than that. Maybe it's because I'm now eligible to be reaped. Or maybe it's because I'm now the eldest sibling in the house.
"Sit by me, Lissie" Louisa says, shuffling to make space on the end.
I smile to her and take the seat. She looks up at me with her large, dark brown eyes.
"Brandon is going to be ok, isn't he?" She asks in a small voice.
I take her hand in mine and give it a soft squeeze. "Yeah, he's going to be fine"
I try to believe myself, but deep down I'm feeling a little doubt in my words. I do believe in him and all that, but there is always that little feeling. That little voice in your head that's telling you that he might die. When the Games have barely started.
A sudden flash from the projection on the wall snaps our attention. Our eyes all flick to the once blank screen. The Game's host, Morgana Volptura, crackles into view. She's dressed in a tight fitting black and gold pin-striped suit and her make up is hideous. Thick black eyeliner, gold eye shadow up to her arched eyebrows and bright crimson lipstick. She looks like something from a nightmare. Only real.
Sitting next to her is the Head Gamemaker, Opus Trimarti. His face is set in a deep frown and he's also dressed in a threatening suit, dark blue and silver.
"So, Opus, how excited are you feeling right now?" Morgana asks.
"Quite excited, Morgana. This is my third Games as Head Gamemaker and it definitely is the most exciting" He replies in a dark voice.
"This is one of the biggest Quells, the five hundredth!" She exclaims. "Will you be giving us any hints as to what the arena will be like?"
He shakes his head. "I'm afraid you'll all have to wait. My team and I worked extremely hard on planning this arena and we want everyone to experience the surprise together"
"I'm sure you do, Opus" She smiles, then turns to the camera. "Well, Panem, I believe it is now time to start the countdown for the Five Hundredth Hunger Games, the Twentieth Quarter Quell!"
Louisa's hand grips mine tightly as the camera switches to show the arena. The Cornucopia stands in the centre of twenty four holes and it's exactly the same as every year. Huge, golden and filled with supplies and weapons. There are, as usual, some supplies and weapons dotted on the ground around the Cornucopia.
The camera zooms out, giving us a view of the arena. The first thing I notice is the bleakness. Pretty much the whole arena is a dull grey.
Louisa makes a small gasp as more of the arena is revealed.
It's a huge abundance of ruined houses. A deserted village, surrounded by a thick, darkened forest. I shudder; it looks horrible.
The camera flicks back to the Cornucopia in the middle of the village. A countdown fades into view, showing sixty seconds. Then, the tributes arrive. Rising from the ground like sprouting weeds.
I look around, searching for my brother. I spot him, directly opposite to the entrance of the Cornucopia. Two girls are either side of him, a few metres apart. I think I recognise them from the parade, but no names come to mind.
The camera takes it in turns, focusing into each of the tributes' faces. Brandon is one of the last to be shown, his face is set looking onwards. He seems somewhat less nervous than most others, but I can sense the fear in his eyes.
"He looks like a giant" Louisa says timidly.
We laugh a little; trust Louisa to lighten the mood.
The numbers count down slowly, each time they change my heart thumps. The tributes get lower into a starting position, ready to flee for their lives. Or flee to take others'.
As the numbers tick down to naught, I clutch onto Louisa's hand, causing her to squeak.
"Sorry Louisa" I apologise, but she's not really listening. No-one is. We're all watching as the gong rings and the Games begin.
At first, the camera doesn't show much of Brandon. In fact, it doesn't show him at all. He seems to have just... disappeared.
"Where is he?" Robyn asks the question that's playing on all of our minds.
"Erm, he's probably just behind the Cornucopia, or has already got away" I say, not really believing it.
You can only get away that fast if you don't grab anything. Brandon wouldn't be that stupid to leave without anything, he's much to clever. Nah, he's probably fine.
A sudden canon boom goes off. We all jump and our faces turn whiter than the cleanest sheet.
"Was that..." Louisa trails off.
The body of a dead boy comes on screen, confirming that it wasn't Brandon. It was the boy from Ten, Horacio Francis. He was killed by a knife, thrown by one of the Careers. I bite my lip, keeping myself from puking.
They don't waste much time in switching back to the main field, showing people sprinting around, whilst being chased by well armed Careers.
I gasp as the camera moves to a view from inside the Cornucopia. Brandon is in there. And he's not alone. Kelvin, the big Career from Two, is with him and they don't seem to be having a casual chat either. In fact, they're both locked in a wrestle, down on the floor. Brandon is on top of Kelvin and it looks like he's got him stuck.
We all watch intensively as Brandon takes hold of Kelvin's neck in his huge hands.
"Is he going to strangle him?" Louisa asks.
"I think so" Robyn replies. "He'd better do it soon, before anyone else comes in"
"I hate to say this, but I agree with you Robyn. If he, you know, does it quickly, then he'll have a better chance of escaping" Mom says.
"I don't think I can watch this" Robyn says, shielding her eyes.
Louisa copies her, covering her on eyes. But I keep on watching.
I watch the strain in Brandon's eyes as he watches his fingers squeeze the life out of Kelvin. His dark eyebrows are knotted in a deep frown. Something is telling me that he'll stop. Chicken out. This isn't like Brandon. He can't kill a person.
And I'm right. He can't.
No-one else is watching. Both Louisa and Robyn are cowering behind their hands and Mom is trying to put them at ease. I'm the only one watching as Brandon releases his victim before looking up to see an axe soaring through the air.
I scream, though my throat is coarse, as the axe clashes with his skull and the canon fires.
Mickela, (Kay's girlfriend) POV
I stare at the greyish liquid.
"Kay never really liked tea" I say, watching the bleak beverage slosh around in the chipped mug. "He said it was a girls' drink"
"And he always said he had better things to do than sit around and drink" His brother, Malen, adds.
I look over to Malen. He's sitting on the ragged piece of fabric, which is meant to be a rug, also holding a mug of weak tea. He sits with his left knee bent and his elbow propped up on it, the mug held in his other hand. Before, I've never thought of them alike, but now, all I can see is Kay. Every time I look at his mop of mud brown hair, I see Kay's ruffled style. The way he sits, with his leg bouncing up and down, I see Kay's eagerness. Even when I look at his pale blue eyes, they fade into Kay's light green ones. I can't help but feel like my boyfriend is sitting in the room with me.
"Hey, don't like the tea?" Malen asks, looking at my full cup.
I look back at the sluggish drink. "It wouldn't feel right"
"Yeah, I know what you mean" He sighs. "I keep feeling like we should be doing something, not just sitting around drinking tea"
My eyes move to the door. "I keep expecting him to burst through the door and call us old ladies"
Malen lets out a small chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds like Kay"
We fall back into a silence, our fingers tapping on the side of our mugs, creating an echo that bounces around the room. The Games haven't started yet; the projection on the wall is just a grey blur.
The silence to me is horrible. I've always hated it. That and isolation. That's why me and Kay seem to get on so well. There's never a dull or quiet moment when you're with Kay; he's so bubbly and loud. I used to be the quiet one. When all the girls at school would flit around the boys and giggle confidently to them, I'd be the shy one at the back. The sheep. The follower. I still don't know how Kay noticed me. Maybe it's because I was so quiet and he saw it as a challenge to bring me out of my shell. I wouldn't have let him if I wasn't so head-over-heels in love with him...
"Mickela?" Malen's worried voice cuts my thoughts short. "Are you crying?"
I notice then that my eyes are damp and I hastily wipe them away with the back of my hand.
"Um..maybe" I sniffle.
"Aww, come here" He reaches out kindly.
I nod and slide off the sofa to sit next to him on the tattered rug. He looks at me with sympathy and holds out his large arms. Grateful, I lean my head on his chest and weep as he hugs me tightly. His body temperature radiates towards my body and I snuggle in closer, comforted by the heat.
Kay used to do this in the Winter. When it got so cold that the frost bit at my fingers and toes and not even patched up gloves would make any difference. When my one and only coat decided to be too small that it only went up to my elbows and hung awkwardly at my waist. When it was too cold to do nothing but huddle up together like penguins...
"You ok now?" Malen asks, pulling me out of his embrace.
I look up to his gentle face through the sheet of water in my eyes and just stare. He does look so much like Kay...
My hand reaches out and I run my fingers through his thick hair. His open eyes look into mine. I blink and see Kay smiling back at me, lost in a gaze. Without hesitating, I close my eyes and lean my head in. Parting my lips, I kiss his softly and Kay's scent washes through me once more. I push in, deepening the kiss. I wanted him so much and he came. He really came. And now I'm kissing him again, feeling his lips against mine and-
Kay pulls away sharply.
My eyelids dart open. And Kay is no longer sitting there; Malen has taken his place. His cheeks are flushed a deep red and he seems surprised.
My mouth gapes open and no words come out.
"It's ok, Mickela. You were upset; me too. I know you meant nothing of it, you were just missing Kay" Malen rushes over his words, trying to explain what I just did.
But he doesn't need to explain it. I already know what happened. I kissed my boyfriend's brother. My boyfriend who is hundreds of miles away in the Hunger Games and his brother, who was kind enough to...
I stumble to my feet, turning away from Malen. I hear him talking to me, but I don't stay to listen. I'm staggering to the door in such a hurry that I knock over my mug of tea and it falls to the ground, smashing and releasing the grey liquid it once held. I waste no time in checking it, I just have to get out of this house. And as far away as I can.
I crash through the door and trip as I hurry down the stairs at the front of the house. My jacket snags at the wooden banister and I tug at it harshly. It comes off with a small tear and I'm free to run again.
Sprinting with no idea of direction, I frantically wipe at the growing pool of tears in my eyes. My temples are pulsating; throbbing at the second. My throat is dry, parched from lack of moisture. Now I wish I had drank the tea...
My path is disturbed by a huge wall, which I skid right into. The force winds me and I stagger back in shock. The wall seems to move, like it's rotating towards me. It is. And it turns out that the wall is actually just a tall man.
"Whoa, you ok there?" He asks, his fluffy moustache moves with his top lip.
"Um..." I gulp, feeling a little dazed. "Yeah, I'm fine"
He frowns, but lets me be. I walk slowly onwards, entering the District's main square. A huge screen has been set up, as every year, showing the Hunger Games. Not everyone has their own projection and a lot of folk just like to watch it together. Mainly, the families of the tributes' stay in the comfort of their own homes, but some years they like to come out in the comfort of their neighbours. Personally, I would turn into a hermit crab and stay behind closed doors.
"I'm so sorry, dear" A woman, who's name escapes me, places a hand on my shoulder.
I look at her in confusion. "You haven't done anything..."
A small group of women have joined her, huddling around me like penguins in the thick of winter. All their faces are sympathetic, some full with empathy it seems.
"I know, it's none of our faults. These things happen pretty much every year; I went through the same thing when I was your age"
"I'm sure a lot of people have..."
"Indeed. There are more people than you'd think. It's a thing that affects us all, every single one of us" She smiles, knowingly. "He was such a nice boy though, wasn't he? It often happens to the good 'uns"
"I'm sorry...what?" I ask, so puzzled at her random words. Why is she saying all this? I just bumped into someone...
"Your boyfriend, Kay. He just passed away in the Games"
Damien Thicket, (District 6's mentor) POV
The glass makes a loud clink as it hits the table. My hand reaches out and grabs the bottle of whiskey; I shakily unscrew the lid and fill half the glass. Raising it to my mouth, I empty the contents of liquid fire down my throat. It burns slightly as it slips down, but I don't care. I'm used to it and I like the feeling.
I'm pouring another half glass when the door opens. Lydia Temple, District Three's mentor, stands in the doorway, her hand resting on her pointed hip.
"Damien" She hisses, looking at my almost empty whiskey bottle in disgust. "If you would join us; the Games are about to launch"
I shake my head slowly. "Nah, I'm ok thanks. Fill me in on the details later"
She glares at me, her thin eyebrows arched high. "I'm afraid you'll have to see it yourself"
"Fine" I grunt, heaving myself up to my feet.
The room seems to spin around me and I have to grab the side of the table to steady myself. All the while, Lydia frowns.
With a swift turn of her head, she parades out of the room, her pin pointed heels cutting along the floor. Staggering after her, I make a last grab for my bottle and smile as the familiar smoothness of the glass meets with the roughness of my palms. I'm not an alcoholic, I just have the occasional drink when I'm feeling rough. Ok, the occasional bottle.
Lydia strolls ahead, wiggling her bony excuse for a figure and pointing her chin pretty much vertical to the ceiling. She acts like she's some goddess or something. Yeah, she's a Victor and all that, but so are the rest of us here. She didn't win a Quell or anything, just a bog standard Games and she only just scraped through it. In my opinion, she only won by chance. At least all of us other mentors deserved to win.
I've never liked Lydia. I had won about fifteen years before her and I remember her Games. She was fifteen and one of those tributes that just hide throughout the whole Games and scrounge off passing others. She never got any sponsors, ha. I did. And by the time it got to the final few, she looked like death anyway. It was just luck that her remaining opponents died of dehydration before she did. Pfft.
"You walk so slowly" Lydia complains, her foot tapping impatiently on the solid floor as she stands outside the room.
I deliberately slow my pace, annoying her and earning a deeper frown on her bony face. She scowls at me, before opening the door and disappearing inside.
I laugh coarsely; it was always funny to wind her up.
Walking normally again, I head to the door and give it a hard shove, my body stumbling into the room. Everyone looks over to me as I regain my balance and grin at my entrance. The District Four mentor, the youngest today at only sixteen, laughs at my stupidity. I flash a toothy grin in return.
"Ugh, please Damien. Could you stop being so ridiculous and just sit down" Lydia orders sharply, turning her attention to the boy, Dylan. "And stop being so immature. I don't know what you find so entertaining"
"Whatever, Mom" Dylan jokes, rolling his eyes.
"I am twenty three! Certainly way too young to be your Mother" Lydia corrects, seemingly offended.
I laugh, earning a sharp glare from Lydia. The boy does have a point; she does look much older than her twenty three years. Her hair is always scraped back into some kind of bun, which makes her face look stretched as if she's had plastic surgery. And I swear she's getting bags under her eyes. Not to mention her stick-like figure. She looks like a granny in a mask.
At this point, I decide I quite like this young boy, so I go over and take the empty seat next to him. He doesn't seem bothered, just raises his hand to say hi. I nod and slouch down in the seat, taking a swig from my whiskey bottle.
Lydia sees, but pretends not to notice and turns her attention to the other nine mentors.
"Oh if you don't mind me saying, but I do think your boy isn't particularly built for these Games" She says snidely to the District 10 mentor.
He shrugs back. "Yeah, but he has something that most Careers don't have: brains"
"Pur-lease, as if his times tables are going to help him" She laughs.
"At least I don't have a useless twelve year old who'll probably break down and cry for his mommy as soon as the gong goes" He strikes back.
Lydia seems shocked at his point and keeps her mouth shut.
A few glances are passed around the room. No-one likes Lydia, or her mouth, and we're all glad to have shut her up. But I can't resist just taking this given opportunity...
"Guys, don't you all agree that it would be great to have a District Three Victor this year?" I ask openly.
A few nods of agreement, then Dylan starts to laugh.
"Oh yeah, then Lydia wouldn't be a mentor anymore!"
"Would you two stop being so rude and just shut up for a while; the Games are about to begin" Lydia snaps.
I raise my eyebrows, take another swig from my bottle and slouch lower in my chair. It creaks slightly under my weight.
The screen mounted on the wall lights up and I sleep through the commentary until Dylan pokes me to tell me that the Games have started.
I watch through weary eyes as the bloodbath continues. The boy with 'brains' from Ten is the first to die and Lydia smiles as his mentor looks sluggish in his seat.
The bloodbath has always been the most brutal part of the Games. You can see some right gruesome deaths; arrows in the neck, axes through the head, blood everywhere. All that usual jazz. Sometimes it can get so humanly gross, seeing the blood dye the ground in little streams, and I have to take a few extra long sips of whiskey to keep myself from gagging. Unknown to most, I'm actually quite a squeamish person. I wasn't always, it was just after a certain incident in my Games that put me off the colour red. But I won't go into detail now.
I yawn as a few more tributes die, including one of my tributes. Harriet? Hattie? Halle? Something like that. The name escapes my memory. Oh well, it's not that I'm bothered. I hardly knew the girl; I never do. What's the point in getting to know someone when they're just gonna die anyway? Not worth the waste in time, I think.
An hour or so drones on, more guts spilled on the battlefield. And blah, blah, blah. I'm just about to drop off to sleep again when an interesting occurrence grabs my attention. It's my boy tribute, Jamie? He's having a conversation with one of the Career girls; trying his luck more like. I can't believe he's actually doing what he said he would. Stupid boy.
I have to blink a few times to check I'm seeing right. It looks like he's giving her a massage... Idiot. She could easily just turn around and stab him while his hands are occupied. Jeez, he's so clueless.
I roll my eyes as my thoughts come true and the girl does stab him. She took her time, I've got to say if it were me, he'd be dead in a second flat.
"Ooh, that's both of yours gone now, Damien" Lydia can't help but point out to me.
"So?" I shrug.
"Shame. They could have had a chance if they had a better mentor" She digs. "Why weren't you there for them, Damien? That boy looked quite promising"
I take another swig from my bottle and slam it down on the table. It's empty.
"You wanna know why, Lydia?" I ask, slurring.
"Humour me"
"Cuz he was too like my younger self. That's why" I say.
And he was. I used to be the good-looking boy, who got all the girls...well who thought he could get all the girls. I had that swagger in my step, the cheeky flash in my eye. I thought people loved me and when I won the Games, I found out I was wrong. None of my friends wanted to talk to me anymore, decent girls avoided me like a deadly plague and I was left lonely. So why would I encourage and help Jacob to turn out like me?
Jacob. Oh yeah, that's his name.
Sam, (Jacob's best friend) POV
I place the final card on top of the pyramid, cautiously so it doesn't topple over. I have a steady hand, so it's fairly easy to get it balanced. I used to play jenga with Jacob when we were kids; obviously, I always won. Jacob was always too impatient and would knock down the whole tower, whereas I was more gentle and strategic.
Would impatience be a useful thing in the arena? Probably not.
I hear the click of the handle being turned in the door, but choose not to turn around. It creaks quietly as it opens, sending a small gust of wind into the room that unsteadies my pyramid. It comes crashing down to the table.
"Sam?" Mandy's worried voice comes from somewhere behind me. "Are you ok?"
I shrug, still facing away and hear her dainty footsteps as she walks to me.
Her arms wrap around my neck and her head rests on my shoulder from behind. I look to my left and see her looking awkwardly at my collapse pyramid.
"Oh. Sorry about your tower" She says.
"It was a pyramid" I correct.
"Right, so you do speak then" She says, standing up straight and coming round where I can see her.
I look at her and she looks at me. Her auburn hair is braided to the side and she's dressed in a plain white frock. Her pale green eyes are open wide, searching mine.
"Sam, I'm really worried about you" She says.
"No need. I'm not the one in the Hunger Games" I huff.
"Yeah, but you're the one who's locked themselves in the darkness of their own house; refuses to talk to anyone for the past week; eats the bare minimum to stay alive and makes pyramids out of playing cards all day long" She says, exasperated. "Sam, it's not healthy"
"You sound like my Mom" I state.
Mandy sighs and takes the seat opposite. "But we both care about you, Sam. I hate seeing you like this"
"You can leave if it's bothering you" I grumble.
"I am not leaving, you stubborn bastard" She snaps, grabbing my hands firmly. "And I will stay here until you agree to come out to the main square"
"You'll be waiting a long time. There is no way I'm going there"
"And why not?"
"Because everyone will be there. All those dudes that hated Jacob; they'll all be there and I can't listen to them talk about him behind his back"
"But they won't be like that!" Mandy protests. "I've talked to everyone and they all said that they will be there for you"
"I don't want any sympathy!" I raise my voice, pulling my hands from her grasp.
She looks at me, shocked. Saying nothing, she stands up from her chair and walks back to the door. Her hand takes hold of the handle.
"Mandy..." I say her name desperately.
She turns her head round to look at me. Her face looks hurt, like she doesn't know who I am anymore.
"Mandy, I'm sorry" I apologise.
She turns the handle.
"Please, Mandy. I'm really truly sorry" I say.
She pulls the door open.
"Mandy, wait"
And she steps through the doorway, but leaves the door ajar.
"I love you" I call out.
Just as I think she's gone, a head peeps from behind the solid piece of wood. Mandy's eyes look damp, watery.
"And I love you too" She whispers back.
"Please don't leave me. I have no one else" I say.
She steps back into the room.
"Then come with me; face everyone else" She says, looking around the dim room. "You can't hide forever"
Taking a deep breath, I get up to my feet. I haven't stood in a while, so my legs feel a little jelly-like. Nevertheless, I walk towards her.
"Ok. I'll come"
We walk down to the town centre, hand in hand. Mandy insisted on combing my overgrown hair before we came; trust a girl. I also took a quick wash as I actually hadn't bathed in a week and honestly, I stank.
I try to walk slower as we near the square. Mandy notices and pulls my arm.
"No way. You are not giving up now" She tells me sternly. "We will show ourselves and we will stay until we know Jacob has got past the bloodbath"
"If he gets past the bloodbath" I mumble.
Mandy hears and looks at me disappointedly. "When he gets past. Or don't you believe he will?"
"Sorry, when"
She smiles and pushes my speed. I think the Games have already started.
As we reach the square, the huge screen is the first thing I notice. It's always there, every year. I guess it's so that people don't have an excuse for not watching the Games. Normally, it's more of a gathering for teens. They all go there to watch together, to support their friends. District Six isn't a huge district, so we pretty much know everyone. Anyone that's worth knowing anyway. Everyone knows Jacob, of course. But people only tend to know me because I'm always with Jacob. Otherwise, I'm just a randomer.
We walk past a group of boys, the same age as us, and they all turn to stare.
"Ooh look who it is" One sneers. "It's Jacob's weedy sidekick and his lickle girlfriend"
"Just ignore them" Mandy whispers in my ear.
I try to as we continue to walk.
"Aww he's so brave, bless him; coming out without his master Jacob" Another snickers.
"But he still has to be escorted by his girlfriend"
Mandy's grip on my hand tightens at the mention of 'his girlfriend'. I can tell she's also finding it hard to ignore. I mean, they're practically walking along with us!
"So, Sammy, or whatever your name is. Where have you been lately? No-one has seen you" One boy says, stepping right in front of our path.
I avoid his patronizing gaze, stepping sidewards to avoid him.
He laughs as we follows us. "Locked yourself in your room, did you? Cry for Jacob?"
"That's it. I'm not letting them talk like this about you anymore" Mandy says, gritting her teeth and letting go of my hand.
She storms over to the gang, her face set like stone.
I watch, unable to stop her, because once she lays into someone, there's no stopping her 'till she's finished.
"Right, fat ass" She snarls at the tallest boy. Actually, after hearing it from her mouth, I notice that he does have quite a large ass... "How dare you speak to Sam like that"
"Like what?" He shrugs, sarcasm written all over his smug face.
"You know what" Mandy snaps, lifting herself higher on her toes to reach his ugly face. "Jacob was his best friend and now he might not ever see him again. How would you like it if you felt like you were suddenly left all on your own?"
"I'll never feel like that, I have tons of mates" He says.
"Yeah sure, mates, that's what you call them bunch of morons that just follow you cuz they're scared to get on the wrong side of you" She rolls her eyes. "Well, what if it was your brother, eh? What if the closest person to you in the whole world, who you knew most of your life, who you trusted more than anyone else; what if they were just taken away from you in a split second?"
He looks to the ground, as if he's thinking of a good come-back, or thinking of some sick sarcastic comment to throw back and make himself look 'cool'. But he says nothing.
Mandy smiles, done with her work, and comes back to my side. She laces her fingers through mine.
"I think we're done here. Let's go find some decent people to talk to"
I nod and we start to walk off. A sudden cry from across the square steals our attention.
"Oh my god! Jacob!" A girl screams, pointing up at the huge screen.
Several more cries and sobs come from the same area.
"No, Jacob!"
"Please no!"
"Help him!"
"He told me he loved me before he left!"
"No, he said that to me!"
"Me!"
"No, me!"
I look away from the girls and crane my neck to see the screen. I can see what they're all yelling about: Jacob is lying in a pool of blood at the feet of a Career girl, a knife plunged into his stomach.
His stomach that I used to elbow whenever he got on my nerves.
His canon hasn't fired yet, but I can tell that he's beyond help now. His eyes are open, staring wide in horror as the colour drains from his skin. I watch, helpless, as his eyelids flutter closed and his canon sounds.
Over the crying from girls that knew him, I can hear a sick, twisted laugh. I turn sharply on my heels, pull my hand from Mandy's and storm over to the tall boy.
He sees me coming and calls out to me.
"Looks like your a nobody now, Sammy. Poor master Jacob has fallen"
I block out his words, squeezing my hand into a tight fist. I stomp up to him, my eyes flaring with both anger and sadness.
The last thing I remember is throwing a hard punch at his nose and then everything goes blurred as I swing my arms around in a rage, smashing everything in my path.
A/N- Yup, so that's the 'twist' I mentioned in the last chapter's AN. Is it what you were expecting? And more importantly, did you like it? I was thinking of doing one of these chapters every so often, so you can get a sort of feel of what it's like for the families/friends of our tributes. I'll do this for every tribute, probably. It may also reveal secrets about certain tributes...
Ok, so any thoughts you had about this chapter, please let me know via review. I really love reading them!
Next chapter is back into the arena with our dearest surviving tributes! I can't say when it will be done, but hopefully before this time next week, I'll aim to get it done quicker, but no promises!
Thanks for reading and keep on REVIEWING!
Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx