Chapter 14 of Rebel or Madge?
A/N: I got a BETA! I'm so happy! Thank you WorldOfMyOwn24!
As always, reviews are appreciated and welcome – negative or positive. Unedited, sorry
The darkness is everywhere. In my heart, in my lungs, in my thoughts, in the sky above…It's everywhere and anywhere. It's like the sky is trying to tell – remind me of Aubrey and Riley's death. The darkness is like a monster in my chest, clutching my lungs and heart in a strong hold. It's trying to suffocate me and try to squeeze my heart until it stops beating, making my chest feel tight.
The sky is screaming rain. Oliver has yet to leave but I can see the sky is making him nervous. He continually looks up towards it and then to me. He smiles uneasily at me every time he realizes I'm staring at him. He doesn't notice often but I remain staring at him nonstop.
I lay on my side with my knees pulled to my chest as my arms hug them tightly. My eyes scream vulnerability at the loss of my District partner and ally. They also scream sadness and the desperate need for a hug. Will I admit I need someone to hold me close and help me through this? No. I will never admit I need help.
Oliver's dark hair sticks to his forehead by the time he kneels down next to me. I visibly flinch. This is going to be the end. He's going to stab me in the chest and kill me in a puddle of my own misery. His manly, thick hands (where mine our slim) lands on my shoulder. His other hand hooks under my chin forcing me to look at him in the eye.
"We need to get you somewhere safe." I pull my eyebrows together in utter confusion. Why is he helping me? I shrink into myself for protection but he doesn't leave me alone and he doesn't kill me for not following his lead. He slides his arms under my knees and my lower back to support me. He stands, in the process I get jostled around but I don't mind. My head lands on his chest with a wave of pine whiff off of him. He grunts a few times while hiking me up higher on his chest. I squeeze my eyes for I feel my stomach roll in a nauseous wave of sickness. My hands clutch my stomach; I bite my bottom lip to keep from retching all over myself.
Oliver begins to move slowly down the alleyway with me in his arms. The movement makes me gasp. I throw my head back. The pain in my stomach is unnerving and for the first time since I woke up I realize I haven't eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours. I know I should be used to the stomach pains that I shouldn't even feel them until tomorrow or so, but with being treated like a king I've grown use to the constant food set out. Now that I'm on my own, well it hurts like hell or maybe that's just the pain making my misery worse.
I have failed my District partner. But why should I even care. She wasn't much of a District partner…she didn't even offer me to be in her alliance. With that realization I comprehend that the only ones left is me, the Careers, and District 9 (the only living tributes from Aubrey's alliance). Then why is Oliver Rice, of all people, helping me?
The dirty, ruins of paradise blends into nothing but a gray blur as we travel. The world doesn't make sense anymore. The world hates me now. The world is unfair…
…
Oliver dumps me off in a cabin room on a boot. A small boat with cabins underneath the boot and a built in deck for cars to travel on. It seems that tributes have found this is Peace Land because the people with sleeping bags and tents are set up out on the dock. Oliver leaves me alone directly after he dumped me on the bed. The cover's puffed up around me, the pillow under my head, the soft, and cushiness of the mattress under my body. They are all real, all nice and pleasurable, but I feel like I'm drowning and maybe that's just because I'm on a boat rocking back and forth, side to side.
I don't know how long I stare up at the plaster ceiling before crawling under the covers and trying to disappear. The heavy blankets block out the cold air swirling around me and the monsters trying to seep in with me to mess with my head. The blanket is a safety net around me, keeping me cloaked in warmth and sanity. I feel like a little kid under my parent's blankets in the morning after a nightmare. You're all alone because your parents are getting ready for the day but every once and awhile your mom holds you close to her chest. She keeps you anchored to this earth.
With thoughts of my family I drift into a dreamless sleep with nothing but the warmth of my body heat radiating off the covers.
(Madge's POV)
The effects of Aubrey and Riley's death are taking effect on Gale. I can see them as plain as day on his face. The Games have changed him and shaping him into something that is as fragile as fine china. My strong Gale is slowly slipping away from us, from me. I don't know what I will expect to find when he makes it back. My heart is on a fine line of shatter in my chest and holding on my strings. It physically hurts to see him like this, closing in on himself, allowing a Career help him! He is so blind by hurt and pain that he doesn't realize the trap he is setting himself up in. He is going to get hurt and may even die – no, will not die on me. He will wake up from this 'sleep' and get the hell out of there even if he has to jump overboard. I trust him. I trust him.
…
Hours later he wakes up with Oliver at the end of the bed with a magazine propped up on my knee. Oliver glances up from the text written in blue ink for a moment to look at Gale.
"They sure are betting on you to win this thing here Hawthorne." The fake glasses on his nose fall down the bridge of it and come to a stop at the little curve at the end of his nose.
"What?" Gale croaks out eventually. His morning voice is extremely beyond sexy and just makes me think things I shouldn't be thinking at this moment. I clasps my hands together.
That Oliver kid shakes the magazine in his lap for emphasis before speaking, "The Capitol voting on you to win the Games. Change of events, huh? Us, Careers, still alive and they're rooting for the Underdog. Gosh, what are we going to do with you, Gale Hawthorne?" The way he says his name sends shivers down everyone's spine. My stomach clenches as my fist ball into tiny fist. The fire brews in the pit of my stomach. Ohhh how my much I wish I could deck that Oliver kid. He thinks Gale is stupid. He thinks he is going to get to finish Gale off with some elaborate, flashy way. Oh how he's so wrong!
Katniss and Thom gently place their hands over my tightly closed fist. Gosh, I must look like I have smoke coming out of my ears. They both look concerned for me but they just don't understand. They don't understand that Gale is about to die. The one person I love…love? Whatever, we'll think about that later. Where was I? The person that I love will not die at the hands of a Career or the hands of anyone!
Thom slides his thumb and index finger around my jaw. He makes a popping sound when my jaw unlocks from his clenched position. I can't believe I'm so mad at this. I can't believe I'm mad at Gale for being dazed by pain and grieving but he's going to get himself hurt.
"Are you okay?" Thom whispers in my ear. We don't know each other that well but we have crossed path with Aubrey being my friend and Gale being Thom's. Or the double dates that Thom always dragged me and Gale on. But today is the first time we have spoken to one another, let alone sit with each other, since out loved ones left for this horrible Game. Thom seemed to take Aubrey's death well and is now fully (probably always was) rooting for Gale.
"I'm fine." I say through clenched teeth. Katniss elbows me with a troubled emotion in her eyes. She's worried for me. I don't blame her; she has never seen me like this.
"No you are not!" Thom growls in my ear again.
"He's going to get himself killed if he doesn't move, if he doesn't get away from this Oliver Rice kid. He is going to get himself hurt! I just want to scream at the screen for him to move move move! But he wouldn't hear it and I would look like an idiot." I mutter under my breath and I catch a Peacekeeper I don't know watching us discreetly.
It's been two days. Two WHOLE days they have been on that boat. Gale finally seems to realize my distress for he is tense when Oliver is in the cabin. Gale doesn't move, doesn't eat anything Oliver gives him. The only time he moves is when it's his turn in this weird game where they buy places with fake money in hopes of the other person landing on their 'property' for money. Monopoly it's called, says so in the middle of the game board. They have been playing intensely for the whole two days.
Every once and while one of the boys stomach's will growl a nasty cry for food. Gale's starting to worry me. I can see the weight loss, the fatigue, the hollowing in his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, and the way he grips the fabric in front of his stomach. His whole being looks tired and sickly. He needs to eat but the boat seems to not offer any free food and Gale doesn't seem to want to give up his food to the both of them, so he waits.
I have also found out that the other Careers are on the boat. They are in a big black tent against the side of the boat right against the edge and I know their planning something. Something to have to do with Gale Hawthorne.
The screen in front of me is starting to blur in front of my eyes. The cafeteria is quiet. We all know Gale is going to get hurt. The screen is spilt in two. One side, the left side, shows Gale and Oliver, the other side, the right side, shows the Careers waiting for Oliver to tell him their plan to kill Gale. They all want to take out Gale because he's their biggest opponent and threat. He scored a 12 and after figuring out that the Capitol is rooting for him they are restless to get the crowd back on their side.
Well into the afternoon, Oliver excuses himself to go use the restroom when really he is going to have a Team Career meeting.
"Hey Oliver!" they cheer with fake smiles.
"Hey guys, what's the plan?" his smiles screws up his face in an ugly way, just like his heart.
"Keep him in that room, he's cornered in there and has nowhere to go but out where we will be. We attack him and brutally make a show of his death. Make the crowd adore us, cheering so loud we'll be able to hear their cheers and they can hear his screams."
"Beautifully done guys. Seven o'clock. I'll make sure he's there." Oliver ducks back out of the tent and goes back to the cabin where Gale is shoving a slice of orange in his mouth. Upon hearing the footstep he shoves the half eaten orange back into his backpack. He swipes his hands down his jeans before pretending to fiddle with his thumbs.
God I pray for his safety. That's all I want.
(Gale's POV)
The footsteps come and I've grown to know they're Oliver's. I shove the rest of the orange in my backpack before twirling my thumbs together. I pretend to be in deep thought. No one knows I'm playing a 'Johanna' on them. I don't pretend to be weak; I just pretend to be grieving.
Oliver enters the room. I look at him from the corner of my eye. I can see something is different. I can guess it has to do with me and not just having to pee. I've watched him for the last almost three days. I know when he says he's going pee I know he is going to go see the other Careers. I'm not stupid. I know just by the look on his face that they are planning to attack me tonight. I will attack first.
…
Around 5:30 at night do I 'use the restroom' for a potty break. I fib Oliver saying I'm going to change clothes when really I'm going to go set up some dynamite so I can blow up the boat. I'm okaying to hide in the kitchen by the refrigerator to protect myself from the fire that will surly come after the explosion but then I'm going to have to hijack it out of here. Maybe I set the trap by one of the edges of the boat some I can light it and jump as far away as I can and swim like my life depends on it. Well it does or I might be pulled under with the sinking boat.
Once it's all set up I glance at the bathroom. Oliver is knocking on the door calling out something I can't make out from here. I'm about forty feet away from the back window in the restroom. I run quickly and quietly to it and pop it open, hoping to dear god he doesn't hear it.
"Gale? Is everything okay in there? You've been in there for a while." He fakes concern for me.
"Yeah, I think I'm just seasick. I've been throwing up. Sorry, just go back to the room, I'll be there when I feel better, kay?"
He grunts but obeys and walks away probably for another Team Career meeting.
I wait a full 5 minutes. It's a quarter passed 6, leaving me no time to get this expedition out of the way and done with. This time I actually throw up in the toilet. The velocity of the situation finally catching up with me. I'm going to kill people today. I'm going to kill the Careers and the mutations of people. My stomach clenches tightly, painfully. Tears burn at the back of my eyes. My finger tighten on the rim of the toilet bowl in a desperate need to not let a panic attack attach itself to me and make me back out of this. A panic attack can't happen like it did on May's birthday. It can't. I need to do this. I need to kill these people. I squeeze my eyes shut and I don't know how much time has passed. I take deep breath and regain my footing.
Out of fear of being watched, I squeeze back through the back window. Just the mere thought of the explosion and the dead people, the blood. Oh god, the blood. The blood of the innocent no matter how much I wish to think of the Careers as inhuman.
I make my way to the edge of the boat. I fling on leg over the side of the boat, straddling it. I buckle the buckle on the backpack across my chest to secure it stays with me even if it is heavy as fuck.
One last deep breath.
One last moment before I become a monster.
Before I become one of them.
My last moment before becoming a murder. My last moment of being innocent in this whole mess.
I lean down and strike a match I found under the bed. I strike it against my pants and place it on the string connected to the dynamite. It begins to sizzle and spark as it runs down the line before it will reach its first target about forty feet away from me.
A yell comes through the wind when I should be jumping. A sizzle and pop when I should have started sinking beneath the water's surface. And fling of a knife when I should have sunk beneath the surface. The riddling pain of the knife in my flesh, one after another, when I should have been swimming away. The feeling of hands grabbing me when I should be ten feet away from my landing destination. An explosion blowing me and the hands away from each other when I should have been a good distance away from the boat with my pack trying to take my breathless body under for good. The force of the explosion and the wind of the aftermath blowing me into the water back first. The burning and stinky smell of my burning flesh as I float in the water with the cold water lapping up on my burn chest and legs, cooling the fiery sensation spreading through my body.
I'm lucky I'll probably live through this pain. Those on the boat aren't so lucky. Six cannons go off, or so I think. All the Careers are dead and not my problem anymore. Their blood spatter on my face and my hands covered and caked with crimson. The crimson will never come off my hands, it runs too deep.
That leaves District 9. The last of Aubrey's alliance. My only competitor let in this long race to come home. I don't know if I want to go come anymore. I'm not good enough, I'm a monster that just killed 6 people and almost – stupidly – got myself killed in the process. What was going through my mind? Was I trying to die with them? Do I feel too guilty for what I have done? Should I have die? Why did the explosion kill me? These things I will never know as my body goes numb and the darkness is creeping up on me. I don't try to fight the darkness but it doesn't take me. It lets me live…
A whoosh of water lands on top of me, causing my body to dip further into the water only to resurface. The backpack must have some type of device to cause it to float and I'm suddenly mad at it. I don't want to be saved. I don't deserve it! Why is everything in my favor? It never was before…
I feel something hook under the strap of my backpack, something slippery and slick under my shoulder but in-between the strap. It begins to pull me at a fast pace and I can't seem to find it in me to care what has me and what is trying to kill me. I just don't care.
Sickness towards myself is all I feel. I can't believe I just killed people for the heck of it. I just killed them before the better good to live and yet they're just like me…Just innocent teenagers at the start, murders by force at the end. And only one of us has to deal with the guilt, the pain, the struggle to just breathe in and out without screaming and going off the deep end. Where am I going? What am I?
The water is chilling my bones. I'm shivering the more we go. I couldn't tell you whether it's because of the six murders I just committed or the ice cold water. I just don't care anymore.
The ground goes through a physical change from a liquid to an anamorphous solid, or so it feels like. Sand. The simple word crosses my mind. That's probably want I'm lying on. Probably somewhere on the East Coast.
Without the cool water splashing against my chest, it burns like the great fires of Hell. I throw my head back further into the sand. I clench my teeth and ball up my fist, arching my back high off the sand and hold in the scream that wants to rip out of my mouth so badly. One deep breath later do I collapse on the ground with heavy, heaving breaths and the guilt finally, fully, crashing down on top of me. I kind of want District 9 to find me, to finish me off so I don't have to leave with it. Because we all know, the Victor never wins, the dead do in these games.
The final three. That means they've already interviewed out friends and family. Sweet little Posy and Madge. They've already said something about me, but what? They had to, just had too, ask Madge whether she liked me or not, but what was her answer. Did she say no so the interviewer would leave her alone or did she say yes because she does? Questions I shouldn't be thinking, the question is…whether are the mutations? Why are they not forcing us together? Why hasn't there been a feast. And why haven't I died yet?
A thought too soon, a gong goes off above me. Claudius Templesmith's voice rings through the arena.
"Lady and Gentlemen, welcome to the final three. You have come a long way and will be rewarded for it too. Five feet away from you, to your right, will be a backpack full with a flashlight that runs on solar power, bandages, an orange for you to eat – it is not poisoned, you need your strength for this – and either beside it or in it will be a weapon that you have never used before or seen. It was created during your time in our special arena and all three weapons are different. They are meant to make you learn how to use them and how to control them. They are one of a kind for you, specifically. Only you can use it. Use it wisely and may the odds be ever in your favor."
And like that, like magic, a backpack appears with the weapon in the bag, bandages, an orange, and a solar powered flashlight. I leave the flashlight out in the sun beside me so it can have some energy at night. The weapon looks like a hunting knife but a pocketknife because of the different compartments. But when I touch it a spark of blue lights up the outer rim of it and a leather piece of fabric molds around my hand. I snap the buttons on the side close and the thick blade unrolls itself into blunt edge sword. When I turn my hand sideways, the other end of the sword unfolds itself from the blade to create a solid steel bar that would work to defend me from counterattacks. When the shift the knife on its leather 'rotator' (more like worn leather for easy twisting) the sword part folds back up and the other end of the steel bar sparks blue and comes to life as a dart gun. The sword end folds quickly into a circle big enough for a dart.
The only problem is…I don't have any darts. Haymitch would have to send me them. But would it be worth it? It send me dart even though I've never used a dart gun before?
Apparently. A parachute lands in my lap. I unclasp the container to find a belt of darts. I stand up and clip the belt around my waist. The dark hand low on my hips with easy access to them. Thanks Haymitch!
That night I know the Games are going to end. I can feel it in my bones. When the earth starts to shake I grip tight to the new weapon in my hand. I've kept it as a solid steel bar to help clear underbrush and keeps a good foot between me and any attack.
The ground shatters completely. I fall into the sinkhole. I hear yelling of a male and female not too far in front of me. They could be miles ahead of me or a few feet away. I will never know until I find them.
I'm not paying any attention to my surrounding when I hit a turn in the sinkhole. I didn't realize this wasn't an open pit. It's a maze.
Damn it!
I have a cut above my eyebrow that is bleeding profoundly. I kneel down to find gauze in my bag to hold to my eyebrow. Hastily it sticks to my forehead from all the bleeding but it keeps the blood out of my eyes.
A few minutes later I'm being attacked. A shock of electricity runs the course of my body. I scream and fall to the floor. Someone's foot lands on my back, pressing me into the ground. I alternative my hand for the sword to come out. Wiggling my arm free is a challenge and pain in the ass. When it finally manages to come free from the man's boot (I assume) I throw my arm backward to strike deep in the District 9's flesh. She lets out a scream. Oops, not a man.
She stumbles backwards only to crack against maze's wall. The boy sends another shock of electricity through me when I try to fumble to a standing position. My breath comes out in heavy, wet pants. I can't seem to focus or see what's right in front of my face.
A deep ache runs through my spine and sends a shock in my brain. Whatever weapon that boy has is deadly. He has a spiked pizza cutter type thing I think. He cuts it deep into my skin and runs it the length of my back. There's definitely going to be a scar there. He does it again on the other side of my back. I bite my lip until it bleeds. Blood runs down my chin and splatters on the ground. He runs the pizza cutter down the length of my bony spine. I scream. It feels so close to the bones and for once in my life I wish I was fat.
The girl has recovered by now. She charges at me with a fiery rod pointed for my chest. The boy pins my legs down his knees and he wraps his hands around my wrist. I jerk and jerk and jerk to no avail of escape. The piping hot rod presses into my chest and begins to melt my skin off. Blood runs down my torso. She lifts the rod only to come back down and beat me with it. She aims for my face and chest and hip area. It sears right through the fabric of the dark denim. I gasp out in pain. The only thoughts racing through my mind is this is how I'm going to die. I'm going to die in this arena. I finally realize for what seems like forever that I can't die. I need to get home for my family. I maneuver to the knife in my boot. I come up empty handed.
"Looking for this, asshole?" My knife. He has my knife. Damn it! My belt! I have one in my belt!
I grasp onto the knife for dear life and when they both come rushing forward to get it away from me I fling my arms out to the dark as I hear the cracking of bone and crimson covers my hands again. Two cannons. I have won. I have won.
"Congratulations Gale Hawthorne of District 12! Victor of the 73rd Annual Hunger Games!"
It's almost like you could hear the Capitol's cheers from here. Three hovercrafts. Three bodies. Two dead. One alive. I am going to home. I. Am. Going. Home.
The hovercraft lifts me up. A prick of a needle and a dreamless sleep takes me to a sweet place where only Madge and I exist. A sweet place I never want to leave…
A/N: Well there's the end of the Games. I wanted to only have it within 3 chapters so I wouldn't bore you with a super long Hunger Games. What did you think of Gale's Games? Sorry you didn't get to hear the interviews for the final 8 I kind of forgot about them until now. Sorry guys, The Crowning Ceremony next, I think. Have a great week!
And thanks again to WorldOfMyOwn24!