Nicolette "Nikki" Anderson (17)- D4F
The sun rises the next morning over our little camp, reflecting off the sea and nearly blinding me as I sit watch over my allies. I'd spent many sunsets on the beach in District Four, sitting with my friends and the other trainees at the Academy. My parents didn't like me to hang out with other teenagers, thinking it took time away from my training. I would have to sneak away in the middle of the night to be with anyone outside of school and training. It became even stricter after Marcus died. Even then, when I was thirteen, I knew this moment would come, when I was sitting awake in the middle of the night for a different reason entirely.
I glance over at the girl from Twelve, who is peacefully sleeping on her jacket. Jason made a small bonfire before he went to sleep, despite my objections. He wants to keep the little girl warm through the night, apparently not caring if the Careers see us. I'm the one who has to keep watch, of course.
I don't approve of the girl, but for some reason I don't want to betray Jason and kill her. Jason himself is far too valuable of an asset as well. When I imagined myself here years ago, I didn't imagine I would ever have to bow to anyone else's wishes. The Careers always have the same goal in mind, never thinking about compassion or helping others.
I glance over at Jason's sleeping face. A young death has always a possibility for me, but I'm just now starting to realize that if I die soon, I don't want to die like my brother. He was a good man, but he spent his last few weeks with only other murderers and nothing but violent thoughts in his head. He died alone and with no one to mourn him but me, not even his own parents.
If I die, my parents won't mourn me. But if Jason wins, he will mourn me. Along with Eryn, and anyone else who dies in the Games that isn't a Career. He might be the first actual kind person that I've ever met. Even my friends at the Academy were only bloodthirsty, murderous children.
Jason wakes up as the sun rises, stretching out on the sand. He glances over at where I'm sitting, reaching over for some fish that I roasted while they were sleeping. Cold fish isn't pleasant, but he doesn't show any disgust when he bites into it.
"See anything?" he asks me quietly.
"No," I say bitterly. "No more useless children."
Jason harrumphs. "I know you're just acting. I've seen your kind side and you can't hide it from me anymore."
I raise an eyebrow. It's hard to figure out if he's being serious, or if this is just for the cameras. I suspect it's both. But my angle isn't the kind-hearted, pretty girl. I'm the gorgeous, lethal woman. I know what happens to the compassionate tributes who score high. They might become fan favorites, but their chances of winning are disproportionately low. Caring too much about your enemies makes you soft, and every other tribute in the arena is your enemy.
That's why I can't get too attached to Jason, no matter how blue his eyes are.
"We should move farther west," I say. "Until we find the forcefield. It's a good place to stay until the final eight or less."
"Good idea," Jason says, standing up and brushing off his clothes. "Did you make more fresh water while I was asleep?"
"No, I didn't. I was busy keeping watch."
"Alright, I'll do it."
While Jason is over at the waterfall, Eryn gently sits up. When she sees me, her eyes widen. "Hey," she says sweetly, a hand reaching up to her bandaged neck. I silently curse Jason for saving her life. Her time has clearly come to leave the competition, but Jason has extended her life beyond its limits.
"Good morning," I say, trying to sound neutral. "Are you hungry?"
Even if I don't 'approve, I can't change it now. I can't kill this defenseless little girl. Maybe Jason is rubbing off on me more than I expected.
Amelia Waltraud (16)- D5F
The storm was possibly the most terrifying thing I've ever been through, even the bloodbath. The wind and flying debris threatened to blow me away with every step I took, and I couldn't see anything for hours when the storm was at its peak. I had to gather my things and curl up into a ball on the ground to avoid getting thrown up in the air.
After the whole ordeal is over, I'm exhausted and have make a camp for the night under a bush. I try to start a fire with my matches, but don't have much luck. All of my supplies are soaking wet from the rain, and I spend the night shivering under the bush. I eat a few pieces of jerky to soothe my stomach and try to sleep, but I don't have much luck. I fall asleep for a few minutes, only to be woken back up again by the same horrible nightmare as before. I spend the following morning hiking up the mountain, hoping I'll find somewhere to lay low.
The sun is bright as the morning heats up, my clothes sticking to my sweaty skin. There are a few fruit trees that line the path on the way up, and I take a few peaches to eat on the way up. They're incredibly juicy and satisfying, more so than any peach I ate in concrete-filled District Five. After a day of hiking, I set up camp under a tree and try to get some sleep despite my nightmares. The next morning, after a few hours of hiking, the path starts to level out, and I realize I must be nearing the top of the mountain. I can only hope the Gamemakers haven't set up some kind of trap for me up there.
The path ends abruptly, and as I turn to corner to a plateau, I immediately see someone. I quickly hide behind the rock, gulping. Did I come all this way for nothing? I could stay on the path for a while, but how long would it be until the other tribute had to come down for supplies or to hunt?
I let out a deep breath. I don't have a weapon to take them out, but I can't just go back. I owe it to Caleb. If I make a kill now, the Capitol will see that I'm serious about winning.
I glance past my rock to see that the girl who's standing at the cliff is picking grapes off the vine and popping them into her mouth. To her left, there is a slumping wooden shack, the roof caving in on the building. One of the walls is sliding to the side. Despite the state of the shack, the idea of having a shelter to stay in is enough to give me strength. If I kill the girl, I will have the shack and whatever supplies she has. It's a perfect set up.
The girl turns around, and I have to duck away, hoping against hope that she didn't see me. I hear her walking away, and not towards me, which is a good sign. It's only then that I realize what an opportunity I missed. I could have pushed her off that cliff and been done with it, but now it's too late. Since I don't have a weapon, it's only safe to assume that she does. My best best is to wait and see if she stands near the cliff again… isn't it? I've already done it once. Maybe I could do it again.
Hadrian Cato (18)- D2M
I drift in and out of consciousness for most of the day, my pain so all-encompassing that I can't even figure out where it's coming from. All I know is that my head is pounding and my back is killing me. I hear a female voice talking to me every now and then, and another male one angrily arguing with her. Somewhere in my brain I know that it is my allies from One, but I can't speak to them or stay awake long enough to understand what they're saying. When I do wake up, it's to the sound of the national anthem loudly playing throughout the arena. I'm laying just inside the Cornucopia, enough that I can see the sky outside, where the Capitol emblem is displayed over the stars. The anthem doesn't last very long; there are no faces to display.
"Tiffany," I groan, trying to crawl out of the golden horn. My entire body aches, and I can feel my ribs shifting inside my body and causing indescribable pain. I try not to cry out and stay composed for the cameras.
"Hadrian?" I hear her ask, sounding surprised. I hear footsteps coming towards me, but Tiger is the one that appears first. His silhouette stands over me, axe in hand.
"Good morning, Hadrian," Tiger says darkly.
"Tiger, this isn't the time," I groan out. "Where's Tiffany?"
"Tiger, leave him alone," I hear Tiffany's voice grow nearer. "Please, we have to talk about this."
"What is there to talk about?" Tiger growls, twirling his axe menacingly. "He can't even walk, look! None of your arguments from earlier are valid."
"I just woke up!" I exclaim, my voice cracking from disuse. "Give me some time, at least."
"Tiger, we have to think about this," Tiffany says calmly. "You have nothing to prove. We can wait for a little while longer."
Tiger huffs and walks away, grumbling to himself.
My body trembles as I sit myself up, propping my body against the Cornucopia. "How long have I been out?"
"Just one day," Tiffany says, unscrewing her canteen and handing it over to me. I take a large gulp and sigh loudly, sniffling. "The storm didn't even kill the girl that hurt you," she says, shaking her head. "It was just the weird girl from Three that died yesterday, and no one today. Things are moving far too slowly. We're four days in and there's still eleven tributes left. And there's only three of us alive, and you're injured."
"Not for long," I say with determination. "I'm going to be fine. Just give me a day to recover."
"We might not have the time," Tiffany says, her tone completely neutral. I glance up at her. I've started to realize over the course of the Games that Tiffany isn't the person I first thought she was. She might be a little naive and rigid at times, but she isn't stupid. Nor is she especially merciful. If wouldn't betray me as an ally, but if she thinks that I don't stand a chance of surviving, she would kill me without a second thought. Cassius killed the girl from One in her sleep during his Games, but I know that all One tributes aren't as weak as she was. They were trained in an Academy same as me.
"You will have time," I say firmly. "Just give me a chance, Tiffany."
She stares at me for a few moments, then nods. "I'll keep him away, okay?"
"Thank you," I say weakly, taking another drink of water. I try to stay calm on the outside, even though I know that I might be lying to Tiffany. I've let down all of District Two. I was supposed to bring home a win for the second year in a row after Celia, and Two's fourth crown in seven years, but instead all I've done is injure myself and kill two weak tributes. I let Rufina die during the bloodbath, taking away District Two's other chance of winning.
For the first time since before the Reaping, I feel fear. And it's so much worse than the pain.
Spool Nylon (12)- D8M
Seb has been especially quiet today, even quieter than usual. I thought maybe it was because our list of enemies is growing smaller day by day, but after the sun has set and the national anthem has played, no faces appear in the sky. I turn to catch his reaction, but there is none.
"Are you okay?" I ask after a few minutes.
"Yes, I'm fine," he says quietly, munching on his apple. We still have a few from our trek on the mountain, but I'm tired of the same starchy, wild apple. It's all we've been eating for days, apples and various leaves that Seb knows are edible from his time as a lumberjack. My stomach growls as I take another bite, sighing.
"Are you okay?" he asks me, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah!" I say enthusiastically. "I just… you seem upset."
"I'm a little sore," he huffs, taking another bite. "But I'm okay."
"From your fall?" I inquire, taking a sip of my water. We've been rationing it out slowly, but there's only a few more gulps left. It won't be long until it's all depleted. Maybe it was good that the Gamemakers knocked us off the mountain after all, even though there are probably lots of tributes down on the shore. We need water and some real food after spending four days living on apples and a few sips of water. My pee has been dark for days, and I've begun to feel a little dizzy and even nauseous today.
"Yeah, probably," Seb says. "We need more food and water."
"Way to state the obvious," I say. "We've been out of the action. We haven't seen anyone since the bloodbath, so there hasn't been a chance to prove ourselves."
Seb glances up at me from under his white-blond fringe. "Are you suggesting we…"
"Kill someone? Isn't that what this is all about?"
Seb grunts and sits up, avoiding my eyes. "I suppose. But we've been doing pretty good so far."
"We can't avoid it forever," I say gently. "Not while we're down here."
"Let's try to get to the river tomorrow," Seb says hoarsely. "We need water."
"And food," I add. "We can only get that down at the ocean. Do you know how to fish?"
"Well… I know how to make a net."
I look down at my lap. "Our strength comes from fighting. That's why people sent us these gifts. They wanted to see you- us fight."
Seb takes a deep breath. "I know."
A few beats pass, and I stand up, my vision blacking out for a moment. I put a hand on Seb's shoulder to steady myself. "I'm going to check my trap," I tell him. He grunts again in acknowledgement.
Earlier in the day, I had set up a trap for a small animal on the other side of the rock cluster. I had set up a few on the mountain as well, but never caught anything except a small mouse creature that had hardly enough meat to feed one of us, let alone both.
In the light of the moon, I can see that my simple trap has been activated, but there is nothing trapped. Whatever set it off has escaped yet again. I growl in frustration, along with my stomach. Seb and I can't get to the ocean fast enough. Even if he doesn't want to, I'm going to force him to go down to the beach tomorrow morning so that we can fish.
Jason Sparks (18)- D6M
We spent the day yesterday walking the beach, looking out for other tributes and the end of the arena. We haven't reached the forcefield yet, much to Nikki's distress. We're traveling much slower with Eryn in our company, and I know that annoys her. We settled down for the night at a bonfire, and Eryn even suggested that she take a shift watching over the camp. I let her do it for an hour or so, but I stayed awake just in case. The sand is actually quite comfortable to lay on, and with the warmth of the fire, it's difficult not to drift off into slumber. After Eryn's shift, I take mine, and then wake Nikki up for hers. I drift in and out unconsciousness for the rest of the night, and wake up to Nikki's voice speaking lowly to me.
My eyes open slowly, and I see Nikki standing above me with her hands cupped in front of her, staring at me.
"What are you doing?" I ask, sitting up quickly.
She raises an eyebrow and separates her hands, letting water slip through her fingers and onto the sand. "Just trying to wake you up," she says neutrally. I hear Eryn giggling from not far away. I look past Nikki and see she's standing ankle-deep in the water, laughing at me. The bandage around her neck is still stained red, but not so much that it needs to be changed. The wound is healing, but who knows about the damage and scarred tissue that the knife would leave behind. It's lucky that the storm blew her into our vicinity before it was too late.
"You were seriously going to pour water on my face?" I asked incredulously, standing up.
"I wasn't," she says, picking up our bag and swinging it over her shoulder. "Hurry up! It's time to go."
I huff and pick up the bones of one of the fish we are last night. I don't need a lot of food in the morning, just a taste of marrow from sucking on the bones. "Looks like you guys have been bonding while I was asleep."
"Not bonding," Nikki snaps. "Come on, let's go."
We walk for most of the morning, trudging along under the boiling heat. Eryn walks beside me like she did yesterday, but when we stop for lunch, she sits closer to Nikki and even asks her for some dried seaweed that Nikki was able to find earlier. Afterward, Eryn and I rest a little while Nikki heads off into the water to catch more fish. She stands in the water, waist-deep, holding her trident at the ready as she watches the water carefully. She quickly pistons her trident into the gentle waves, but when she pulls it back out, there's nothing speared on the prongs. She shakes her head in frustration.
"I'm going to go help her," I tell Eryn. "Keep lookout, okay?"
She nods and I grab my sword before wading into the water. By the time I reach her, she is turned around and glaring at me.
"What?" I ask. "I came to help."
"Never can resist an opportunity to help," she says, turning away.
I roll my eyes. "Are you still upset? I thought you too were getting along!"
Nikki tries to spear another fish, failing again. She growls and looks at me again, her deep green eyes glaring. "Can't you see that's the problem, Jason?"
I sigh. "Isn't better to help others and die then kill them and survive? Who can live with themselves after that?" When she doesn't answer, I turn to where Eryn is now puttering at the shore with her knife, perhaps trying to catch some fish too. "Would you really let a fifteen year old girl die a painful-"
"Just shut up!" Nikki hisses. "Shut up already! Won't you just-just-"
Then she suddenly pulls me in with her free hand for a kiss. She tastes like saltwater and seaweed, but I kiss back, my free hand resting at her waist.
Then she pulls away. Her brown hair falls down her back in wet waves as her seagreen eyes search mine.
"Guys, I found some seaweed!"
We both turn to see eryn triumphantly holding up a mass of the stuff, her proud grin making my heart swell.
"Good job!" I answer. I turn back to Nikki, but she is once again focused on spearing a fish.
Tiger Emerald (18)- D1M
Tiffany has been furious since the sky revealed that the Six girl was not the one that died in the storm. Instead, it was the girl from Three that we hadn't seen since the bloodbath, and the girl she and Hadrian waited for is still out there. She had spent the rest of the day fuming around the Cornucopia, volunteering to keep watch for most of the night.
I would be upset that she was being annoying if I didn't feel the same way.
She convinced me not to kill Hadrian when they returned after the storm, but I know she will come around eventually. He's dead whether or not i'm the one to kill him, and she must know it deep down. Right now, our focus needs to be on the other powerful tributes in the arena.
We replenish our strength overnight, then leave the next morning to hunt. The two of us head to the desert for the fourth day, but we find nothing except strange animal tracks in the sand. We come back to Hadrian at the Cornucopia empty-handed, our thirst for blood unquenched. Hadrian is waiting for us when we return, propped up inside the Cornucopia. He's still weak, barely able to stand on his own, but he seems to be improving, so Tiffany gives him the benefit of the doubt again. We spend the night recuperating, then head out for the western mountain the next morning. We haven't climbed either of the mountains yet, and it's about time we do. And I'm sure that by the time we get back, hadrian will either have died of his wounds or been killed by another tribute, who Tiffany and I will then have the pleasure of hunting.
By noon of the fifth day, Tiffany and I have found a path up the mountain and are ready to climb. It was either placed there by the Gamemakers or made by another tribute, but either way means that there are tributes up there for us to find.
"I understand why they made it difficult to climb," Tiffany complains. "But why is it so time-consuming? It seems such a shame to come all the way back down if we don't find anyone."
"Then we better find someone," I say in exasperation. "When did you start turning away from an opportunity to prove your worth?"
"I'm ready to kill, Tiger," she says darkly, her beautiful blonde hair, once so pristinely styled in the Capitolite way, now falling over her shoulders in a sweaty, dirty mess. Most of the makeup has been wiped off of her face as well, leaving behind her rarely seen true self. I always knew in training that Tiffany had a good shot at being a volunteer alongside me. I don't think she has what it takes to win, but I thought I'd at least get to see the bloodthirsty, cruel side of her that surely exists under her practiced, prissy exterior during the Games.
"So am I," I say. "You're the one that killed the pregnant lady. A two for one!"
Tiffany rolls her eyes. "Come on, we need to move."
We hike for a long time, until the sun is setting and we're not even halfway up the mountain. We have no choice but to continue, determined to make at least one kill in this outing. As darkness descends on the arena, we ascend the mountain, our weapons at the ready.
Tomas Fields (15)- D11M
After the storm, I spent most of the day recovering from my toss into the ocean. I had nothing to do except curl up beside the cliff on the sand and hope the Gamemakers had mercy on me. The next morning, I had no idea where I was or where the tributes that I was tracking had gone. The ocean had beached me somewhere near the western mountain. Out in the water, several large rocks rise up and curve toward the sky. It's a strange formation that certainly didn't arrive there naturally. But it's beautiful and otherworldly, so I spend most of the next day sitting on the beach and watching the waves. The sky is beautiful in the morning and evening, and the water cools me off in the middle of the day, when the sun is at its peak.
My body feels weak after not drinking water for three days. I have to crawl to the ocean water to gather some up in the pan that I retrieved from the Cornucopia. The matches are still wet from my dunk into the ocean, so I lay them out in the sun to dry. My own skin is sunburned almost everywhere except where my clothes are, but I know it will just be a matter of time. I think the skin on the top of my head is also completely burned, even under my hair.
After the matches have dried, I effortlessly make a fire, thanks to all of my time at the fire station in training. I use some driftwood to start it, then set the pot over it with the lid inverted. I'm following what Drew told me to do in training, but I I've never tried it. I can barely keep my eyes open, my tongue dry and my head killing me.
About twenty minutes later, the glass in the middle of the pot is full of fresh drinking water. It's burning hot, but I can't control myself as I burn my hand to pick it up and gulp down as much water as possible. It's the tastiest drink I've ever had, even as hot as it is. I put the glass into the pot again, sitting back to relax. My hand is burning from where I touched the glass, and I cough from my dry throat. I drink more water and sigh in pain.
I wish Drew was here. And just so that he could teach me how to make fresh water. My plan to contact the older tributes was stupid, but I know why I almost did it. The loneliness in the arena isn't something that I thought would be affecting me so much. Death is a terrifying thought, but dying alone is even worse. Maybe I should have died alongside him, killed by the Careers. Maybe I can survive the Games and win, but even my own family disowned me. I've always been alone, and I will finish these Games entirely alone, no matter how they end.
Filly Marcoffe (18)- D10F
I spent the entire storm in the shack, cowering under the bed in a way that I would be ashamed of if I weren't fearing for my life. Afterward, the shack's walls are leaning even more. I stay under the bed for a while longer just in case the walls collapse in on me, and eventually fall asleep there. Before the wind really started up, I had stood outside in the rain and drank some of the water, letting it gather in my cupped hands and pouring it into my mouth. It hadn't been a lot, but it had tasted wonderful after so long. I know the Capitol hates too many dehydration and starvation deaths in the Games, so maybe they were giving me a hand. I can't help but feel kind of grateful.
The next morning, I emerge from the shack and eat some more grapes. My jerky is running out, and probably won't last after tomorrow. I haven't seen too many animals up here, or anywhere in the desert from what I can see. This arena certainly isn't one that is filled with resources, but the Gamemakers don't want us to die without spectacle.
I spend the day sitting around and reading more of the book that I found under the bed. The animals that the writer describes are no longer here, but perhaps they are somewhere else in the arena. The people who lived in the shack had a great, comfortable life. It sounds like a paradise.
When the afternoon comes, I finally give in to my stomach's grumbling and go look for more grapes. It's great to have food, but I wish I could have some real meals like the people in the journal do. Maybe a nice roasted sheep.
I'm watching the orange and golden sands of the desert on the horizon when I hear strange rustling sounds behind me. I freeze and look over my shoulder, but I see nothing. Perhaps it was just a small animal. If so, it could be my dinner for tonight. I reach for my knife in my boot, eyes fixated on the rocks at the mouth of the path. My mouth waters at the idea of a nice, juicy ground squirrel.
But what pops out of the rocks isn't an animal, it's a teenage girl with wild eyes and even wilder blonde hair.
The girl from Five knocks me off my feet before I can retrieve my knife, her hands wrapping around my throat. I desperately try to grab at her arms, another hand reaching up to her face. My fingers reach to gouge out her eyes, but she jerks away, letting the pressure off my neck for a moment. I knee her in the stomach and flip her over, grappling for my knife in my boot with one hand. She yells in fury and tries to pry my hand away from her. I pull out my knife and try to bring it down, but she grabs my wrist and pushes it back up, her eyes wide and terrified.
I let up the pressure on the knife and pull it back up to bring it back down. She evades the blade and elbows me in the face, pushing me over. I spit out blood and try to scramble too my feet, but my opponent is already up and pulling me by my leg over to the cliff.
"No!" I yell, trying to twist away. "Stop!"
She pulls me with all of her might, and I dig my fingers and knife into the ground to resist her. She jerks my leg with such force I think she might dislocate it.
"Let me go!" I scream, kicking her in the face. She backs away and I pull my knife from the ground, getting to my feet. I wipe sweat and blood from my face and hold the blade up threateningly.
"Stop it!" I tell her. "We don't have to do this!"
"Yes, we do!" she hisses. She tries to stalk in a circle around me, but I just back up to keep away from the cliff.
"Fine!" I shout, gripping my knife tighter. If that's what she wants, then so be it.
I lunch forward, slashing at her chest. She jerks away, but trips slightly and her back is exposed. I plunge the knife into her back. She gasps loudly, thick blood quickly leaking out of the wound and forming a dark red ring over her jacket. I pull it out and watch in awe and horror as she turns to look at me with wide eyes. She reaches back to feel the wound, her hand coming away sticky with red blood.
Her eyes are filled with tears as she reaches out for me. I help support her and lay her down on the ground. She gurgles and some blood bubbles out of her mouth. As she chokes on her own blood, I realize I have some on my hands, and even some on my cheek somehow. I try to wipe it away, but I think I just smear it more.
The girl goes still after a few minutes, and her cannon goes off not long after.
This is the name of the game, I tell myself. She asked for it.
I eventually move away, realizing the hovercraft can't retrieve her with me so close to her. I wander back down the path aways and watch as the silver craft appears out of nowhere and reaches down for her.
After a few minutes, a parachute floats down from the sky for me.
Hey everyone! We sadly lost Amelia this chapter.
11th: Amelia Waltraud (16)- killed by Filly. Created by LongingForRomeo. Amelia had a long, crazy journey through these Games. I think that despite her young death, she was able to become the person she wanted to be. She was brave enough to confess her true parentage and her love for Elanor, as well as spend time with her brother. Caleb would have been proud of her, even though she didn't win.
Thank you so much to everyone who is reading! Please leave a review to let me know what you think.
