Keeth is stiffly moving through the dense woods, followed in suite by the rest of his team—now missing Mars.
Keeth rushes his steps to stay ahead, to be somewhat alone with his thoughts as he plows through the dead leaves and thin twigs, hardly caring, so infuriated that he can take on anything that dares to cross his path. He clutches a dagger tightly in his hand and moves, though he's unsure of where he's possibly going.
Three. Three cannons in two days that they had to hear, the signal sound of someone's life ending. How could they have let that happen? That wasn't according to plan…
But how could they have expected it to go any other way? This is the Hunger Games, run by the corrupt Capitol. Of course things wouldn't go completely as planned; would they ever with the lives they lead in District 12? Keeth knows one thing for sure. After these games, if they somehow manage to survive, their lives would never be the same again. Ever,
At this point, Keeth doesn't know if he even expects to survive, but that isn't what scares him the most. He's most afraid of losing Colemet and not being with his friend now when she needs him most. When he needs her most… Why isn't he there? Worst of all, what if she's already gone? What if he wasn't there to help her and save her, just be with her in her final moments if that's what it has come to? What if this is the…end?
No.
No, he can't afford to think like that. Colemet is alive, or at least he has to have faith that she is. They're going to get through this, because even though it's hard to admit and think about, this is about much more than them, something much bigger than themselves.
Keeth kicks a stone harshly and curses under his breath.
He keeps moving.
…
It was a brilliant kiss…
As Sate embraces me, my heart pounds in my chest, That was incredible…but why did Sate kiss me?
"Sate, I…" I'm not sure what to say next.
"What?" he asks in a quiet, curious whisper as he strokes my hair softly, as if what we just did wasn't out of the ordinary in the slightest, something we just do and always have done. Something he wants to view as…normal.
"Why did you…?" I don't really get time to finish my statement befre a rustle in the brush is heard.
Instinctively, I feel Sate hold me tighter, protectively, just like Keeth would do to me…it's a secure hold, reassuring, so I hold back…
Soon, my racing heart is put at slight ease when Milinia emerges from the greenery. She looks as if she's about to speak, but stops herself short when she sees us holding one another. "Whoa…" she muses, taking a step back and putting her hands up in mock surrender. "Did I interrupt something?" I can hear the smirk in her voice that she's trying desperately hard to hide.
I blush and quickly loosen my hold on Sate. "Uh…no, we were just…talking…" I feel Sate nod in weak agreement, almost as if he's disappointed that I didn't own up to our kiss but grateful for the lack of ridicule that might happen.
Now, Milinia's smirk emerges on her lips. "Oh, talking. I see," she muses, just with a wink. I blush harder, but Milinia doesn't really press on the topic, at least not now. "We were all just looking for you two, we weren't sure where you were."
Sate slowly rises. "Yeah, we should probably get back to the others," he decides. He looks to Milinia and I as he starts to walk casually, smoothing down his hair.
I give him a weak wave. "You go on ahead. I'll catch up in just a minute." Sate raises his eyebrows, but he agrees passively and starts back in the direction Milinia came from, leaving me and my friend alone.
Slowly, Milinia comes over and sits next to me as I sigh. She looks almost longingly in the direction Sate went, but it's a long for an explanation. She turns back to face me, a small smile playing across her lips. "What happened between you two just now?" she asks quietly, gently, as if not wanting to totally force the subject. She's playing the concerned, curious friend role rather than the catty gossip, which I appreciate.
I shrug slightly. "I…I don't know…" I tell her, flustered myself. "We were just…talking a bit and then he suddenly just…kissed me…" I feel the redness rise in my cheeks again.
"You mean he…likes you?" she asks cautiously. Yes, that would be an accurate assumption, I suppose…
"I…I guess so…" I tell her, still trying to fully gather my thoughts. "I…I didn't really realize that he…he…"
Milinia gently nods, letting my sentence fall. She knows what I mean, we don't have to go over it.
"But…what about Keeth?" she asks me, peering at the ground then back to my eyes once she does.
Keeth. I peer at the ground now too. "Keeth is...my friend…" We've only ever been just friends, right? Best friends… "I don't know if…if…"
Milinia cuts me off again. "I don't know, Colemet," she tells me delicately, as if afraid to break bad news. "There might be something more there than you think. Something you just don't realize…"
I trace the toe of my boot into the dirt. Is there something more between Keeth and I? I never really thought about it…but did I not think about it because I didn't want to? Or is there more to this than I think?
A couple minutes ago, I felt close to Cloud 9 with that kiss, but now it all feels…confusing. What does this mean now?
Milinia slowly stands up and offers her hand, seeing my deep thoughts. "Maybe we should headback to the others." I just nod numbly and take her hand.
As we stand, that's when I hear an eardrum shattering scream that immediately throws my mind back into the arena, back into these Games. Milinia and I quickly meet and fearful eyes. Oh no…
A scream…
It's an unmistakable scream too.
Loud, high pitched, and tortured.
It's the scream of a young girl.
…
Airmet absently watches the Games, only half paying attention to what's going on on the screen with the book in front of her. She occasionally peers up at the screen. It's been sort of flat-line for the past few hours; blurry camera shots of nothingness and the occasional display of the tributes walking. The only thing that happened earlier in the day was the death of the male tribute from District 5; it left Airmet feeling empty, hollow, but she hasn't been turning off the Games, too anxious to see what conditions her best friend is facing in the harsh arena that the Capitol has created. She's been using the past few bland hours to recover, and she has, mostly, only a lingering feeling of apathy still with her.
She turns the page lazily, hearing the sound of birds and the crunching of leaves from the audio on the TV. She peers up. Tributes marching.
She reads another page and then peers up.
She sees a hazy picture of her best friend and another one of the female tributes sitting peacefully on a log, though their conversation is too hushed to be picked up by the camera. She smiles gently, seeing as her best friend is safe for the moment. A glimmer of hope, reassurance. She peers away and reads her book.
The brief silence is cut off by a blood-curdling scream coming from the television. It starts Airmet so much that she jumps and drops her book, falling to the ground and bending the pages. She hears footsteps rush into the room, but she only stares at the screen in horrific anticipation.
Even her father's firm but caring hand on her shoulder isn't enough to snap her out of it.
No, no, no, she thinks. Not another death...
...
Milinia and I run as fast as we can in the direction of the scream, thrashing through the leaves and breaking twigs, not caring about the noise we make. If anyone was hot on our trail anyway, that scream definitely revealed our location. Besides, it's clear we've been found anyway. That scream was not only one of terror, but one of earth-shattering pain. This can't be good.
The scream is shrill and continuous, getting louder as we run. It feels like hours have gone by during this run, but it's merely been seconds as we sprint. We arrive at a clearing where daylight pours in a glare, yards away from the scene of horror.
We arrive just in time to see Brutus, the brutal hunter that's out for my blood, wrenching his sword out of Michella's midsection. Blood seeps around the wound and pours from her mouth as she collapses. The scream was hers.
Now, my own scream is heard. "YOU MONSTER!" I shriek, hysterical and enraged. My scream is shrill and painful to the ear. I can tell by the way Brutus cringes through his battle stance.
Before I know it, though, he's running at me with the sword. I pull back an arrow and aim at his approaching target, but his movement causes my arrow to only nick his shoulder. I scramble back.
Before I know it, though, I hear the distinct ring of metal hitting metal, a sound so significant in the training gym, but somehow foreign to her in hear, When I turn my head, allowing my blonde hair to whip my sweat covered face, I see that it's Sate, trying to disarm Brutus with the whack of his spear.
He turns his head and only gives as much attention as his resistance will allow. "Go, Colemet!"he orders me. "Get to Michella!"
I waste no time. I quickly sprint around their fight, though Brutus lashes from their brawl trying to get me, but Sate keeps him busy. I load an arrow into my bow as I run and launch it, but it only skims Brutus and just barely misses Sate, but neither of them seem to notice amidst their fight.
I finally arrive next to Michella, seconds pulsing by like minutes, hours, days. I collapse next to her, breathing deeply as my knees dig into the earth. I wipe sweat from my forehead as I look down at this young girl, broken and watching the life draining out of her every second, every minute, every day that seems to pass. Soon, I wiping tears from my eyes too.
My mind is hazy as I take her hand. "Michella..."I breathe out. "Michella, can you hear me?"
Her eyes are glassy and wide, and her breaths are labored and shallow, but she shifts her gaze to me slowly and nods. "Yes. I can hear you."
I breathe relief when she looks at me. I sniff, my tears falling freely. "You're okay..." I stroke her cheek gently. "You're okay..."
She shakes her head. This poor, young, fragile girl... "I'm going to die, Colemet..." she says quietly, sadly. "I always knew I was going to."
I shake my head. "No," I say. "No, you shouldn't die. I should've protected you..."
She shakes her head as much as she can and tries to squeeze my hand, a gesture that is obviously laboring for the little bit of life she has left. "Colemet," she whispers. "I didn't mean in the Games." She pauses, and I fear those might be her last words, but then she finds the strength to speak once more. "Everybody dies. I was going to die one day. But that day is today now." I feel her weak squeezing at my hand again.
"But you're too young," I tell her.
"Life isn't measured in years," she manages is a raspy voice. "Life is measured in what you do while you're here."
For a twelve year old girl, meek and shy, she's very wise. But the quietest mouths always have the loudest minds.
"I..." I struggle for my own words now; my voice, my hand in hers and every other part of my body is shaking. "I'm sorry."
I feel one last squeeze of my hand, this one stronger than the other times. When she does, the grunts and clanking metal of the fight behind me starts fading to a distracted, terrified ringing in my ears.
"Please live, Colemet."
And those are her last words.
Her hand goes limp. Her expression goes blank. Her eyes gloss over.
The cannon fires.
And she's gone.
...
I let go of her hand and clench my fists so tightly that I feel the warmth of my blood under my fingernails. I scream, scream at the top of my lungs in pain, anguish, and fury.
This is sick. It's all so, so sick.
The pulsing, the ring in my ears continues as I collapse onto the ground, as if there's no other world around me, no fight, no family, no Capitol, no anything, and I can just will it all away.
I close my eyes and let myself fall away. I hear the ringing, but I hear silence, see nothingness, and let the world fall out from under me, like I don't exist at all, because everything of me right now is just pain. Pain, anguish, rage. That's all I am, and that's why I'm trying to will away my existence.
A melody softly plays in my head, one that my mother taught me, one that I know entirely too well.
Are you, are you, coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man they say murdered three
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree
I breathe slowly. Murder. We're in the Hunger Games. The songs is a reminder, but I can't help but hear it.
Are you, are you, coming to the tree
Where the dead man called out for his love to flee
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree
What if Keeth is dead? What if we're fleeing to this nonexistence together? What if he's calling out to me?
Are you, are you, coming to the tree
Where I told you to run so we'd both be free
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree
That's all Keeth and I wanted from the beginning. To be free. Free from all of this.
We just want to be free...
...
"Colemet! Colemet!"
The voice comes into my hearing slowly, replacing the ringing with the screams and chaos. I'm thrown right back into the Hunger Games.
I'm being shaken and I quickly sit up, though my head swim. My unsteady vision reveals that it's Sandor. I look around wildly, but everything is blurry. The only thing I can register through the haze is Melody, crying over her deceased friend's body. Everything is confusing...everything...
But the real thing that jolts me back to reality is the fire of another cannon.
Another cannon.
I clutch my head and blink, waiting for the world to stop spinning and relax. That's when I truly look around.
Everybody is standing back fearfully, silent now. The only noise is heavy breathing and I turn my head in the direction of it.
It's Sate.
He's bloody and battered, but standing weakly on his feet, his knees shaking, as if he might collapse any second.
But down on the ground next to him, motionless and lifeless, is the crumpled form of Brutus.
My eyes flick to Sate, who instantly meets my gaze.
"You...you killed him..."