Chapter Twenty Nine: Lamentations II


Emery

Day ?

July ?, ?

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I haven't felt the sensation of being knocked out until now, but I've seen it happen before.

It was about a year ago. I was in town with Magnolia, Julian, Lily and . . . Clancy. It was about mid day, the summer sun beams down on our faces as we walk towards the watering hole, where the more affluentkids come to cool down when we have free time. Anyways, we were walking down Main Street when an elderly voice called out for help. We turn around only to see a man bolt towards us with the elderly woman's parcel bag, which could be filled with money, groceries or both. The man shoved us out of the way, only for him to bump into the well toned chest of Head Peacekeeper Commander Maximilian Ponder. By this time, a large circle of onlookers watch on with grim and dubious faces. All conversation ceases as the Commander and his two subordinates gaze down at the thief. The thief, intimidated by Ponder and his two subordinates hesitantly hands over the parcel bag into Ponders left hand. With his one good eye, Ponder gazes at the bag in his hand and then toward the man who sits on his knees before him.

He looks at the bag again, then to the man.

To the bag,

. . . And slowly back towards the man.

With lightning speed, Ponder whips out his baton, grabs the man by his shirt collar and sends the metal stick colliding into his stomach. While the man keels over from the blow, the Commander sends another blow towards his back. Ponder curses at the man with a normal tone as he picks the crawling man up by his shirt and sends another blow to his face, to the back of his head and to his face again. The two Peacekeepers that flanked Ponder at first grip the man by his arms as Ponder sends his boot into his stomach.

No one dares to intervene or call for the Commander to lay off. We know where stealing lands you.

The man, scared for his life continues to shakily raise his hands up in submission as the Commander sends repeated strikes towards his midsection. A loud crack could be heard as the Commander sends a white boot crashing into the thief's jaw. The man goes limp instantly.

Ponder turns towards the crowd, shaking his baton onto the floor ridding it of excess blood. As he links it back onto his person, he carefully picks up the parcel bag and hands it back to the elder who mutters a 'thank you' with wide eyes.

He nods sharply and with a head gesture, he and his subordinates casually march down the street, not batting an eyelash to the thief they had beaten just a second ago. Everyone continued their daily commute, leaving the broken man to continue to lie on the floor in his own personal bubble.

What's the significance of this story you might ask . . .?

Igot up and he didn't.

My vision flickers and dims, the center focusing on the giant bird Lucifer managed to take down with a knife to the skull.

I try my hand at standing up, only to double over in agony as a bolt of pain shoots up my leg. I cautiously glance down at my right leg to see a bone jutting out of it, surrounded by a pool of blood.

This isn't good. . .

I crawl up against a base of a tree, keeping off my right leg as I inch myself up into standing position. I let out a moan as I accidentally apply pressure to my leg, letting out laboured breaths as it pulses over and over bringing new waves of pain with each throb. I pat around for my gear only to find that it's gone, lost during the fall.

Great, like it matters anyways . . . This is all coming to a close in a matter of minutes.

The only thing I have to defend myself is one of the throwing knives that were sponsored to me during the feast, kept on my utility belt. Izzy, who fell right beside me, is missing from her impact zone. Faint indents in the snow tell me that she crawled off somewhere. She's probably dead anyways . . . What also catches my eye are foot prints, that seem to shuffle off into the distance.

It's time to end this.

Unsheathing my knife I stumble forward, snow peppering my face as I inch past the bird muttation, who still has Lucifer's knife implanted in it's skull. Just meters past the bird is a blood trail, leading up to the limp body of Lucifer Jones slumped against a tree with blood staining his midsection. Lucifer, one of the most moving forces in these games has fallen. His trademark circular sunglasses hang off of his eyes partially as his neatly styled hair moves with the wind.

From what I can tell, he and I shared a mutual respect for one another, I know that if push came to shove he would easily cut me in two with his scythe. All I could do is mutter a 'sorry', as I slowly limp past.

Following the footprints I end up reaching a clearing. A tanned girl with messy dark curls leans against a boulder as she tries to regain her breath. Immediately I see red. It takes every fibre of my being not to lash out at her.

With all the remaining strength I can muster, I let out a yell, charging towards Spinel with my knife firmly grasped in my hand. She has barely enough time to register my knife entering her shoulder. She lets out a faint yell, grabbing me by the collar and bouncing my head off the boulder she was resting on.

My already weakened vision just got a little bit hazier as Spinel stumbles towards me with a combat knife in hand. Before she could go through with what she has in mind, I lunge out at her, stabbing her in the knee causing her to drop to the floor in pain.

Before she could crawl out of range I pounce on her, tossing her knife aside as I prepare to press my knife into her chest.

"YOU'LL PAY!" I let out a shriek, desperately trying to sink my knife into her chest. No matter how much I try, Spinel still maintains her grip over my hands, forcefully trying to push the blade away from her body. No matter what, she's the one dying here and now, not me!

Before I could react, Spinel digs her hand into my injured leg. Paralyzed by the pain, she gains the upper hand, turning me over on my back while using my knife against me. A devilish smirk twitches on her lips as she lines the knife up with my heart and pushes downward. As the blade nears my heart, I find myself begging for her to let me go in a hushed tone, only for her to let out an effusive laugh.

"Haha!You're funny . . . its okay princess, it's all over now. All . . . Over . . . Now."

I desperately try and try to resist, but to know avail, gurgling as the cold blade slips through my chest and into my heart. Spinel's eyes maintain contact with mine the entire time. It only takes a few seconds to realize that I've been stabbed in the heart. I gaze in disbelief at the knife jutting out of my chest as Spinel cackles with joy. I'm powerless to resist as she rips Dawn's brooch from off of my jacket collar.

I surely hope Mom and the rest of the family aren't watching at home . . .

Tears escape my eyes, all feeling in my body shutting down as I sink to the floor immediately. My mind begins to register the deathblow. I involuntary throw up blood onto Spinel's face, but that doesn't seem to faze her. She steadies herself on two feet and begins to pace around me.

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"Exactly one year ago my cousin was killed by a snivelling little brat like you. He was robbed of his rightful spot as Victor.Now I'm going to make you pay and your familypay. Understand that people like you aren't meant to last in here, your death was bound to happen anyway . . . You fought hard and played your cards right! But now its your time to go. Thanks for comin' out!"

I watch with weak eyes as she giggles unsheathing a large looking knife from her boot, a predominately flat blade with a pointed tip. She does a series of twirls and tosses before catching the knife hilt first.

"Goodbye, princess."


Izzy

Sprinting through the clearing, I toss a kunai at Spinel before she could lay one finger on Emery. The knife skins her forehead, causing blood to seep down from her hairline as she falls backward. I propel myself forward, ignoring the knife that bounces off my collar bone.

She stands on one knee, unsheathing another knife as I kick it out of her hand. Spinel sends a left hook straight into my stomach, causing me to double over as she sends another punch across my cheek.

"I'm surprised you didn't trip off your plate when this all began."

She sends a knee towards my face, only for me to knock it back down and send an uppercut towards her jaw. Were both up on our feet again, she sends a punch to my right cheek earning a punch to her left cheek. We end up punching back and forth.

Back.

And forth.

Back.

And forth.

She sends another punch towards my right cheek causing me to swoop under the length of her arm and send two rapid hooks towards her rib cage and another to her left cheek. She spits a wad excess blood from her mouth onto the snow while laughing. Unfortunately since she's the most trained out of the two of us, she has the unfortunate liberty of being a joker.

We begin to square off, not letting each other out of our sights for a millisecond. She favours her left leg, she probably injured her right one during the fall. My left ankle is done for, she notices' this as I let out a wince from applying a little bit too much weight.

"I'm liking those skills basket case, where'd you get em'?" chuckles Spinel.

I cast a sheepish grin and let off a casual shrug, "Quick learner, I guess."

"Well! It's got you this far!"

She shrieks unsheathing two medium, hellish looking knives from her utility belt causing me to follow her notion with my sickle. She charges forward with a cry of fury as I let out a sheepish cry of my own, our blades clash creating orange sparks.

Our bodies are locked together in a desperate attempt to overtake the other. I take a split second to glace over at Emery whose eyes are fixed towards the sky, her petite stomach rising up and down faintly.

Twisting my wrist, I send one of her blades tumbling out of her hands. Just by the grace of my brow, I dodge a swipe that would've taken my head clear off.

As I swoop low, I slash for her thigh which looks like it had just recently been stabbed. This earns me an elbow to the temple by an engaged Spinel. I feel the wet, trickling sensation of blood creeping down my cheek but I pay it no mind.

Spinel takes the time to stagger backwards, patting down her wound as she winces at the sight of blood. She lets out dry laugh as she slowly registers her wound.

"You stupid . . . bitch!"

"- Nur! - . . .I've been called worse. . . "

She glares at me, letting out a yell as she renews her attacks. Each strike she sends my way has more and more power and weight behind it, I end up ducking and parrying each blow until my back is straight up against a tree.

She makes another powerful blow for my neck, only to get her blade stuck as I duck low, quickly swiping her midsection. She lets out a wheeze, clutching her stomach as she falls back a few meters. Raising my sickle up into the air, I stumble towards her preparing to make the final blow. Spinel reaches into her sleeve and tosses a knife into my left ankle.

The pain is instant as it sinks past my flesh and into bone. My sickle is tossed a few meters to my right down a deep slope. Taking advantage of my confusion and pain, Spinel hobbles for her knife as I quickly dive down the slope for my sickle. I turn on my back to see Spinel flying though the air, knife pointed at the ready to sink into my chest. I prepare to make a hardened swing by lowering my position and bracing myself.

Spinel's only midway through the lunge as I cut her calves to ribbons in one swipe.

She lets out an agonizing cry, her brown eyes in hysterics as she inches away from me. My face is clear of emotion as I approach her, my bloodied sickle lazily gripped in my right arm. I knee down to her level, sickle at the ready.

"Thanks for coming out."

Before she could let out a cry of mercy, I bring the sickle down on her chest not once, twice but three times. Each strike for each of my allies', no,friends' lives she's taken before her cannon pierces the sky. Her warm blood splatters my face and the snow around us.

Her death is something I actually took pleasure in doing. I might as well get used to seeing her empty at face at night . . . As well as Seven, Two and Eights . . .

A round of weak coughs is all it takes to knock me out of my stupor.

Emery!

Quickly, I rip Emery's butterfly brooch from out of Spinel's pocket before casting a glare at her corpse.

"Emery! I'm coming!" I bellow, scrambling haphazardly up the slope before rushing to her side. Her wound was ten times as worse than when I first glanced at her. Blood pools near the spot where she was stabbed staining her predominantly white snowsuit to a crimson red. It's a miracle she's still holding on, if anything.

"I'm here Em-

The haphazard squeaks she makes as her lungs desperately search for a breath of air cause tears to run down my face. I try adjusting her position, only for her to let out a wheeze mixed with a sob. She clings desperately to my collar, yearning for the security and comfort only a mother figure could give. We spend a minute staring into each others eyes, something I should have never done. Her grey eyes glisten with sorrow while her frame wracks from dry heaves.

"I'm so so sorry Emery . . . Here - I have your brooch." I hesitate for a second, looking away from her and into my pockets in a desperate attempt to giver her back the token. Only when I find it and flash it into the air is when I hear a cry mixed with a cut off whimper. Cannon fire pierces the sky followed by the instrumentals of first stanza of the anthem.

". . . Emery?"

I slowly look down to see Emery's mouth slightly open, teeth partially seen as her glossy eyes focus towards the sky. If you look closely a single tear could be seen running down her cheek.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! I am pleased to announce the Victor of the 67th Hunger Games, Isabella Wilkinson of District Five!"

I'm flabbergasted as the anthem continues to play. The snowstorm quickly subsides with a clear baby blue sky replacing it. Suddenly, the snow and the foliage around me glistens to life as the sun begins to shine, no longer shunned from the bleak gray sky that dominated the arena for the past twelve days. Exposure to the sun causes me to shield my eyes.

Still, the sun looks absolutely beautiful . . .

As I stare into the air, a hovercraft zooms into view deploying a ladder, the gust causing my hair to blow freely in the wind I reach out to grip the ladder. I stop midway when my eyes glance back at an lifeless Emery, whose eyes still gaze out into the sky as if she were stargazing.

There's gotta be one last thing, one thing to show her folks that I care.

I quickly move away from the hovercraft, looking up to the sky and pointing towards her body.

"I'm not leaving until she leaves." I say aloud.

A minute passes until another hovercraft appears in the sky, gently scooping up Emery. I watch with a straight face as my friend was taken from this madhouse we call an arena and back to her District, where her folks will do what's appropriate.

. . . Some tributes let out a victory screech . . . Some just faint on the spot. I remember a Games not long ago in which a tribute from District One did a back flip of joy.

And me?

I let my bloodied sickle drop lazily to the ground along with my knives, utility belt and bloodied crimson jacket followed by undoing my suspenders and my sweater, leaving me to wear my grey breast band.

I'm alive.I get to see Mom, Dad, Mallory and the rest of my family . . . I did the unexpected.

Smiling at my last act of camaraderie, I grip the ladder allowing it to freeze me in place and lift me into the sky.

I'm going home . . . I'm going home! I'M going home!

As I enter the cargo hold a team of men and women clad in sterile lab coats converge on me, forcing me onto a gurney. I don't resist as I feel the sharp pinch of a needle enter my arm and its contents flow through my veins.

. . . And just like that, my nightmare's over. Well, for now at least.