This chapter is really short, which is why I published it so quickly. Also, it's a little scatter-brained. Sorry if you get kinda confused. ^^"
The Arena: Winner
It's raining.
Raining stops.
Night time.
Day time.
Earthquakes. Screaming. Cracking roof.
Night time.
No cannons.
On my hands there is still Arthor's dried -
There is a puddle of rainwater by my face. I watch little black ants drink water from it. I didn't know ants drank anything. I never really thought about it. I watch a little black ant fall into the water. Too deep to swim. It struggles and struggles and -
Drowning. What about drowning? I was supposed to drown.
Why?
Quincy.
Quincy's not here at the moment. He will never be here anymore. Quincy's -
"Dead," I whisper. "Quincy's dead."
That is the only sound to penetrate the still air of the cave. Silence so loud it fills the room. Absolute silence.
"DEAD!" I scream. "QUINCY IS DEAD! IT'S YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT!"
It's Their fault. Quincy is dead because of Them.
I stand up and beat the black rock of the cave wall with my fist. "ANSWER ME, DAMN IT! IT'S YOUR FAULT!"
I sink back to the ground. I've come to this conclusion after much thought. It's not my fault. It's not even Arthor's fault. It's Their fault. With Their stupid Hunger Games and laughter and merriment at Our death.
This is Their fault.
I curl back up on the ground. Yes, We all know it's Their fault.
And there's nothing We can do about it.
I've lost the fight in me. I've lost everything. I prepared for that earthquake so well, but I still lost everything. The Everything of everthings. My Quincy.
I don't want to fight. I just want to lay here and die.
Die.
Die.
Die.
I think that's what I screamed when I killed Arthor.
Earthquakes are happening more and more. It's raining too. I'm not sure how long my cave will continue to be structurally sound. It's amazing that it's managed to stay standing this long.
It's amazing that I've managed to stay alive this long. I haven't consumed anything in days. Or so it seems. I've lost count of the days I've been here. All I know is that there haven't been any cannons. Opal is still out there somewhere, looking for me.
This should terrify me. It should, but it doesn't. I'm numb. All I've done is lay here. I haven't even cried a single tear for my brother.
He's dead you know. My big brother, Quincy. They killed him.
There is a loud groaning. It's not an earthquake. I don't know what it is. I ignore it.
There is something at the mouth of the cave. A figure. Big and tall. Humanoid. This figure crawls into the cave and I see details. Blond hair and eyes like ice. A mean, scarred face. Hatred etched on every line.
"I finally found you," Opal sneers, sitting next to me. He's alert at first, as if he actually expects me to attack. He begins to realize my state, and relaxes. He knows it's over. I've lost the will to fight.
"You're pitiful," he continues, taking a knife from his belt. "I'll kill you quickly. I want the get out of here anyway."
He puts the knife against my throat. This arouses something in me. A feeling. What is this feeling?
Panic.
Am I...panicking?
Am I afraid?
How can a numb person be afraid?
I have nothing to lose. I shouldn't be afraid. I want to die, right? Just let him kill me.
I have nothing to lose.
Nothing.
I have nothing...
Right?
Finnick. Finnick...
I have nothing to lose...
...But I have everything to gain.
I don't...
I don't want to die.
I don't want to die!
Opal gives me a small smile. "Say goodnight."
There is a another groan.
The cave explodes.
I am hit by a huge force. It knocks the breath out of me. Then I'm struggling, struggling to breathe. Struggling to move. Water surrounds every part of me. It tugs at my limbs and drags me out of the cave. Water is everywhere. I can't breathe! I'm drowning.
Isn't this what I wanted? To drown? When Quincy was going to win, I wanted to drown. But Quincy didn't win. So now what? Do I drown here? It is supposed to be the most peaceful way to die.
If I'm dying, I should confess everything I've done wrong. I should clear my conscience. You know, I think there was a little tiny part of me that wanted to win these Games all along, even if Quincy did die. How wrong is that?
Do I still want to win? Do I want to live on, now that I'm so broken? Broken beyond repair?
I'm running out of air. I don't have much longer.
I gave Tally a promise. I told her I would bring Quincy back. I never break my promises.
I made another promise too...
Didn't I?
Yes, I did. I told Finnick that if Quincy didn't win...
That if Quincy didn't win...
That I would try.
I would try to win.
I've already broken one promise. I don't plan on breaking another.
I do the only thing I'm really, really good at. I swim.
And swim.
And swim.
But I can't find the surface.
Where is it? Where is air? I need air! Maybe it's too late to keep my promise.
I break the surface. There is air. I gasp and tread water, however I am still dragged back under.
But not before I hear the cannon shot.
That's it. It's really over.
I win.
And that is the end of the 70th Hunger Games. But not the end of my story, so keep on reading!
~Smurf