Ariella Dawson, 17 – District 1 Female
Juliet's Shadow
Day Seven
It's early morning when Kai wakes me up. I let out a yawn and wipe the sleep from my eyes and quickly tighten the braid Gemini made. The discovery of a toilet was a gift, but I'm curious to see if there is a shower. I would love to be freed of the oily hair and the layer of dirt that cover me. "We're going to head out soon, Ariella," Kai says.
"Where are we going?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"Hunting." I press my lips into a thin line at Kai's response. I don't want to kill anymore. Maverick knows that. I'm almost certain he feels the same way. I'd settle for outliving all the tributes, but Kai wants to make it home as soon as he can. I don't blame him for that either.
"I'll be just a second. Let me go to the bathroom." He nods and goes through our stuff. I vaguely notice Mav give Kai a dirty look, but it happened so quickly I could have been imagining it. I go to the bathroom and look around. There is only a toilet and a sink in here, but that doesn't mean there isn't a shower. We have a half bath in my own house. I relieve myself and walk out of the bathroom, after scrubbing hands hands free of all the dirt, and continue to open doors to unexplored rooms. At the end of the hall, my wishes are granted. A full bathroom with a large shower that is not unlike the ones found in the Capitol. In my delight, I run away from there, a huge smile plastered on my face. Clean. I can finally be clean. I burst into the bedroom, rather ungracefully, and trip, landing on the ground.
"Ariella!" I hear two different voices shout.
A pair of strong arms helps me up and I'm looking at Kai, his blue eyes looking at me with worry. I glance over at Mav, who has a similar expression on his face. "You alright?"
I nod. "I'm great! Fantastic! I just found a shower and I'm going to take one. It'll be quick. I'm just tired of all this dirt."
Maverick nods, a small smile formed with his mouth. Kai looks baffled on the other hand. "Shower? Are you sure it isn't a trap, Riel?"
The thought hadn't occurred to me. The rest of the house is safe, though. Surely the shower will be fine. "If it is, I'll let you know. The rest of the house is safe, Kai," I get up on my tiptoes and peck him on the lips, "so don't worry. I just need to be clean, Kai."
I walk off and release my hair from its braid, combing the locks with my fingers before I go into the comfort of the water. The shower only takes twenty minutes or so, but in that time I can sit with my thoughts. I feel the deaths of Catalaia and Kristen get washed away. Their blood is no longer on me. The shampoo I find is heavenly, making my oily, gross hair silky and smell like roses. The conditioner is just as wonderful. The body wash, a citrus scented variety, easily washes the dirt away and sends it down the drain in a soapy brown stream. I can't find a toothbrush or any toothpaste, to my sadness, but I'm happy for the bit of comfort I have again. I turn off the water and find the dryers blast away all traces of water. I linger in the shower for a few moments longer. I don't want to put my sweaty clothes back on. I want to keep the feeling of cleanliness alive. I can't though. A knock on the door reminds me of that. "Are you alright in there, Riel?"
"Yeah, I'm just putting my clothes on. Give me two seconds."
"I can come in there and help you, if you want," I hear Kai say. I look down and blush.
"Umm, I think I've got it. Thanks for offering?" The last part comes out as more of a question than an absolute, but I don't care. I lace up my boots and look at myself quickly in the mirror. I don't see a killer. I don't see a bad person. I just see Ariella, the outcast of District 1. For the first time, it feels great.
I leave my hair down and let it fall naturally down my back, reaching just past my shoulder blades. I feel different as I walk out of that room. I feel like, for a moment, I'm not in the arena. I'm just hanging out with my boyfriend and my best friend. "How do you feel, Ariella?" Maverick asks me when I come into the room we camped in for the night.
"Fabulous, Mav." It's the first time I've been able to feel absolutely, completely and utterly fabulous since the chariot rides. Then, the games didn't feel quite real. I was pampered and told I was beautiful for maybe the first time in my life. I was covered in silvery jewels and even though my costume was incredibly scandalous, barely more than a bra and mini skirt, I was bashful and nervous, but I was a princess. I have that same feeling now. I'm a princess again. I'm the princess of District 1.
"Feel better?" Kai asks me. I nod and Kai kisses me on the head, his lips lingering in their spot. "Your hair smells nice."
"Thanks," I mumble. A shy smile reaches my lips and a blush warms my face.
We head out soon after that. I can see we stayed at one of the nicest houses in the area. Many are falling apart. Still, they provide some sort of shelter. Surely were not the only tributes who found comfort here. I do a mental check of who all is left. Less than half of us after Velvet died. District 2, dead. District 3, dead, Gemini and Grace are dead. District 6 are both dead. Catalaia... dead. The entirety of District 8 is dead. Rex is dead. Jennifer is dead. Kristen... also dead. We're all dying. All being murdered by other teenagers. It's still haunting to know that a child, twelve year old Nitya, will never make it back. The shower healed, but it cannot remove the scars.
Paiton Rais, 16 – District 9 Female
I've got cookies
Day Seven
I'm alive! It's the first thing that jumps to my mind when I open my eyes. Currently there is a lot of stuff messing in my head. Like my dream brother's words about judgment from others. It's weird that those words "no one can judge you" are bugging me so much, I've done nothing wrong, zero kills and I'm already seven days into the games and there are 9 of us left. Less than a half. Yet I still can't find peace with myself. Maybe I shouldn't put my mind at it so much!
In stead of thinking worthless thoughts that aren't going to get me anywhere, I turn on my side to face Clay "Wake up, sunshine!" I say as I poke him in the side. His face seems uneasy, as if he is having a nightmare of some sort.
"I said wake up, Mr. Sugarcoat!" I yell very closely in his ear. We decided that going into town and spending the night in one of the towers might be the best idea. Although we did hear an explosion last night and then a cannon it did start to seem that maybe we should ditch the idea. But we were smarter than that. We were throwing rocks from afar to the entrances to make sure. Then we opened the doors and threw few rocks inside, when it seemed safe we entered our new found camp site.
"Sorry boss for maybe having one of the last chance of enjoying sleep in it's nicest form!" His voice is beaming with annoyance and hatred, so I just roll my eyes in response. What a drama queen. "Are we leaving this tower or not?" Clay asks as if leaving was the most obvious thing. Which a small part of my mind doubts, though I push it away.
"Are you super dumb or is it just an act? Going straight into an almost empty field? Do you even know who is out there? The Careers, three of them! The dude of Four is the last guy I want to encounter. And who knows what the wheelchair guy can do if he can magical start walking!" I stop for a sec to take in a breath.
"Yeah, I know. And then there is the guy from Seven and the girl from Ten. She is the real threat!" his last words came out really sarcastically. Although maybe he was right we should leave. Take some people in our alliance and then take down Careers. No one will judge you!
"No, you were right. We must leave and make our alliance bigger, come one, lets move! Now, Sunshine!" I help him up so we can get it all over with.
"Wait, wait, wait! We can't just move now, I'm hungry," Clay says as if stating the obvious.
I just raise a brow at him, not really wanting to think about food. I've eaten so little in the last seven days that when thinking about it I can feel my body just yelling for food. Soon my stomach gives up and rumbles agreeing with the rest of the body.
"Okay, whatcha got?" I say very eagerly sitting down in a split second.
"I though you were never going to give in. You should actually eat more, you are getting kind of... bony."
"Oh don't be reddicu-" he stops me as he raises his knife in which I can see my reflection. The girl with the healthy skin, cute freckles, soft, kept hair and bright green eyes is gone. I look like a walking mess. Though I can't say the same about Clay. I guess he is used to being underfed and in danger all the time that he actually looks more normal than I do. "Maybe you are right.. What do we have?"
About a half and hour later I feel energy slowly coming back to me as we ate almost everything we had. I thought that Clay would want to leave stuff for later, but he almost insisted on eating more, I must admit I couldn't say no to it.
"We should take a swim, don't you think?" I suddenly say amusing myself in the process.
"What? You know how?" and it seems like Clay is more confused with the thought that I know how not to drown, not that I just suggested that we should get into waters we haven't checked if they are safe not just for drinking.
"Of course I know how to swim, just because I come from Nine doesn't mean we live in endless wheat fields," I exclaim a bit actually hurt. He doesn't really respond to me, he just mumbles something and I let it go. We again get up and gather our stuff. "Are we going?" I ask again.
"I guess we could use a little wash up."
We both carefully exit the tower and head towards the closet edge of the pier. It is actually quite a walk we have to do cause Clay insisted on going further into the town yesterday meanwhile I wanted to stay at the edge of it. I guess listening to him once in a while can be a life saving choice as in it could be one of us that was caught in the explosion. After another half an hour later we finally reach the water.
We both take a good look around us cause we are in an open field, anyone could come jumping out of somewhere right now. The closest place where someone could be is one of the wooden houses that are at the edge of water here and there.
Clay and I look at each other at the same time as in we could communicate with our thoughts because I am thinking about going into the water and he nods his head. When he is not looking a small smile escapes my lips which I suppress at the same second. He is not your friend, he's just keeping company for you, Paiton. When his time will come no one will judge you!
I frown a bit to get the thought out of my head and drop my stuff on the ground only keeping my spear with me. Slowly running down the short dock I stop at the end of it waiting for Clay. "Looks good to me!"
He just shrugs and with his own spear in hands he runs fast and jumps into the water without hesitation, me following right after.
The relatively cool water is making my whole body relax as I just float in the water, meanwhile Clay is diving into the water. I can feel my clothing getting heavier due to water and my hair getting cleaner. I undo my braid with my fingers for my own fun and can I say it feels good.
Suddenly his head pops up from under water and his face has this worried look on it. "Get out! NOW!" he yells at me as he is making his way towards the dock.
"Wait what? What are you talking about?" and then I feel it. A bite in my right palm where my skin is very soft and fragile from the day I poured hot water on it. I let out a pained scream and start swimming back to the dock where Clay is almost out of the water. "Shit, shit, shit!" is the only thing that I can really say, my hand is in enormous pain and I feel the weird fish coming towards me. I reach the dock as fast as I can where Clay helps me to get out of water, though having one arm bitten and the other holding a spear isn't really a winner situation.
Other various swear words escape my mouth as I clench my right hand with my left hand. Though the pain is fading and no blood can be seen, my skin there has a bad reaction to almost anything that touches it a tad stronger than usual.
"Get over it already. One little bite is nothing compared to-"
"Shut the fuck up!" I can't hold in my annoyance for him any much longer so I just yell at him, though some part of my anger is brought by the fact that my palm hurts and I can't stand pain very well.
A sudden, might I say eerie, silence sets in as we stare at each other. I in anger and he in confusion. But then the silence is broken by a door creaking open at one of the wooden houses.
The head of the guy's from Seven is peeking out. His eyes show anything but hate or the will to fight us, I actually understand that, he is greatly out numbered. A nice strategy for him to be kill me first and then go for Clay 'cause Mr. Sugarcoat couldn't be happier that I got killed and he wouldn't hurt a bug in any other situation.
"Um.. Hello! I'm Oliver from Distri-" though just because he came out of his little shack doesn't mean my annoyance towards everything has gone off to holidays.
"We know who you are and where are you from! It is not that hard to learn those few names of the tributes that are actually worth something," my voice comes out bitter and full of sarcasm as I see Oliver coming closer. And then it hits me. A protector.
So far he doesn't really seem like a guy who could fall under the Mr. Sugargoat or let alone Clay-like-guy category. From what I've seen in training I assume he is more like me. I case Clay would go crazy and try to kill me he would jump at the chance to kill Clay instead, with me he could get way further than with the weight Clay would put on his shoulders.
"And since we know you," I continue with a sudden smile, "you could join our team. Three is better than alone, besides, we know that someone has been setting off these crazy explosions all the time and the Careers are on the loose. We could use someone with your skills, you could use ours. What will you say, huh?" I end with my eye brows raised.
"Well, maybe," he says, sounding unsure of himself.
"Are you sure he won't slit our throats while we sleep at night?" Clay suddenly kneels down to my level and whispers in my ear.
"If you are doubting him I wonder why are you still in an alliance with me?" I said not bringing my eyes of off Oliver. Clay seems to be thinking about what I said and the next second he seems to be alright with Oliver joining us. What if he sees a protector in him too?
Just when Clay takes in his breath to talk I cut him off, "Come on, Oliver! A little alliance never killed anyone," I actually giggle a bit of how it sounded. Yeah no one has died in an alliance so far, except for the Hunger Games where sometimes an alliance means protection and sometimes certain death.
"Well, I suppose we could team up."
"Great, now lets get some water and leave this place, maybe we could hit the town," I say while getting up. Oliver has now closed the door to his shack, a backpack on his back and an ax in his hand. I and Clay gather our own stuff as I stand up.
"Are you sure about the town?" Oliver says with a frown.
"Yeah, what wrong could happen there?" I ask and see him frown even more.
The three of us are marching towards the city again, as I look to my right I can see a field with long grass moving in the wind.
That will be my next big stop, the gold I was born to live in.
Imogene Guthrie, 15 – District 10 Female
Nrrrd-Grrrl-Meg
Day Seven
"If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside of you that couldn't be filled?" -Jodi Picoult
He's not going to make it much longer.
Jake's face is growing paler by the passing hour, his eyes are listless. Fever set in hours ago, his body is left shaking and weak. The bite of the black hounds is poisonous, that much is certain, but to what extent is unknown. Or, at least, to me. The bites to his foot aren't that bad, but it has slowed him down considerably. It's his arm that worries me the most.
The parts of my shirt that just two days ago had been used to hold the open slabs of flesh that at one point was his functioning arm are gone now, replaced with parts of Jake's shirt and the little we had to start with in our first aid kit. Two days later and the wound still bleeds, but mostly, its puss and general awfulness that I refuse to even look at. Even now, as I change the bandage on his arm, I refuse to look at it. Jake notices, I'm not exactly good with subtleties, but doesn't say a word. The silence between us speaks volumes.
Metro's last cries keep me up at night. Instead of attempting to get some sleep in the farmhouse we stumbled upon overnight, I sit and watch as Jake slowly, but surely, dies in front of me. I've never been on to show my emotions before I was Reaped, but now I am letting the tears free-fall down my face as Jake shivers and quakes next to me.
When Jake dies, I'll be alone. It's too late in the game for new allies and I've never been good with others. The fact that I was a member of the second largest alliance here says something. Maybe I've changed, adapting to the events unfolding around me. Hell, I gave in to the gnawing hunger that was causing great pains in my stomach and ate some of the leftover black hound meat that Jake was able to make, before taking his turn for the worse. After spending the night throwing my guts up from the sudden change in menu, I've learned to keep it down. The Imogene Guthrie that came into this arena is no longer. I am someone else entirely.
"Genie?"
On instinct, I turn my face into a blank slate and face the boy I've grown to love like a little brother.
"Small Fry."
"What was it like, loving Rex?"
His question hits me like a punch to the gut. It takes my breath away, but even after the blow landed, the pain stays center; a constant reminder of the hit you took. I look away, my facade breaking once again, but I refuse to cry. I don't think I have the tears left in me.
"Easy." My simple answer says it all and for a moment, Jake excepts it, but I can tell that he wants more. "He was the one person I could count on growing up, but I lost him before I was your age. District Ten isn't known for its tolerance of the unknown."
He smiles sadly. "That's something I know all about."
"Maybe our districts aren't all that different?"
"Maybe." He blinks, then snuggles closer into me. "My home is a bit...how do I put this...repressed."
For a moment, I am gobsmacked, as I realize where this is going.
"In Five, you just go along with the flow and order of things. We're worker bees, sending our honey of electricity out to Queen Cross and his chosen people in the Capitol. Sure, we are rebels underneath of all that, which is to be expected when you work before in cramped, dark factories, but there is still a level of order among us all. You are expected to like normal things and act a certain way. Like, I had to be a man at a young age. My future was mapped out: Factory manager, marrying my best friend, children, repeat cycle.
"I wasn't made for that cycle. At least, I don't think I was. Nadia is pretty, I guess. She knows me better than I know myself at times and she's always been there for me, especially after my parents died. She's like my Rex, but I don't see her in the same light you did with Rex. Julian was more my style, if I'm to be honest. Great sense of humor, his soft brown curls...those eyes. He's different from his twin brother, different from me. He's not what I'm supposed to like, but I do. I think...I think I've always liked him. And I never got to say anything because District Pride means everything to us factory slaves and it means everything to me."
The silence between us differs from before. It's not choking, it's soft like Julian's curls. Soft like my little Small Fry is becoming. He knows his time is limited, so he wants to be himself in the small amount of time he has left. It's the only luxury we tributes have left.
"I never knew my father," I begin, not even sure if Jake is even awake any longer. "She was fifteen when she had me and without a father in the picture, her family shunned her. The only time I saw them was when we lost my Uncle Rufus to the rebellion and their words towards my mother were harsh and unforgiving." A sign escapes my lips before I go on. "After the rebellion failed, my mother could no longer get by on a simple bartender's pay, despite the rise in drunks and boozers. To keep a roof over my head and some food on the table, she sold her body to the men in our town. She is gorgeous, so it was easy for her. A different theme for every man and few coins were tossed our way. It was a secret, even to me, for a little while.
"When the truth was let out in the open, my life was over. Parents wouldn't let their children play with the daughter of the town whore and men looked at me differently. I didn't understand their pet names and cat calls and I sure as hell didn't understand why the other children pushed me around. So, I turned my back on them and ignored their calls as best as I could. I learned to fight when backed into a corner and how to shut everyone out. Rex was a casualty in my attempt at keeping my heart safe from that sort of attack again. I hadn't seen him in a long time, but our lives crossed paths during the hours before the Reaping. He saved me, just as he was always saving me. He was my protector and I was awful to him. Even in the Capitol, I was a bitch. When you spend all those years putting up a wall around yourself, it takes a lot of manpower to kick those bricks back down. But one by one, he tore them down. Every smile, even wink. The stunt he pulled on the Chariot, his attempt to bring us all together."
He's awake, and I know this because he grabs my hand with the only good one he has left and squeezes it ever so slightly.
"We slept together, that night before the games began." The tears I tried to keep in came out in hiccups and streams. "I went to his room and I knew what I was doing, even if I didn't want to admit it to myself. I gave myself to him and he did the same to me. It was something the Capitol couldn't take from us, something Cross couldn't have for himself. And Rex...he paid with his life for it. I was supposed to be the one that died that day, I'm nothing, just the whore's daughter. He had a beautiful family and loving parents and baby sisters that he needed to keep safe. He was everyone's protector and it was that part of him that killed him. He was trying to get to me."
"If he would have won, he wouldn't have made it far." His voice is like a soft gel, I could get lost in it forever. "Your death would have killed him."
"His death is killing me!"
"You have to fight for him, Genie," I can hear Rex in his voice. "Fight for Rex and Metro. And Grace and even that bitch Gemini. Fight for them, Imogene, and fight for me!"
"You'll make it, Small Fry. You are getting out of here alive!"
"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to lie to a dying kid?" His laughter is broken, but it touches my heart. "I know I'm not cut out for this place any longer. The pain...it's too much."
A beeping broke the tense and I followed it, finding the culprit to be a parachute.
Sponsors.
The metal container was smaller than foot and with the blood-red 5 marked on the side, I knew it was for Jake. My hands shook as I tore into the container, praying for food or medicine, something that would keep him alive, even for just a little longer.
Water. A bottle of fucking water.
This little boy, this innocent child has murdered twice to entertain you. He was chewed up like he was nothing more than a toy for your amusement and all you can manage to give him is a bloody bottle of water? He needs a doctor! He needs medicine and warm bed, he needs his parents...I need my mommy.
"Was it for me?"
His voice, so tiny and frail, it breaks my heart and fuels my anger at the same time.
"Of course it was, Small Fry. A bottle of water for the bomb-throwing lover boy from District Five!"
With the little strength he has left, he sips half of the bottle before offering the rest to me. I can't help but down the remainder of water, despite not knowing when the next time I will find another chance to drink. It's the only thing holding me together at this point in the game.
Jake is going to die, that much is certain. Part of me wonders if I should let nature take its course and watch as he slowly wastes away, ravaged by fear and plagued by thoughts of things he never got to do. It could be hours or even days before his cannon sounds, but he will suffer under it does. The other part of me wants to grab one of Metro's knives and end him now, saving him from the pain that is to follow. However, I know I cannot do that. I am a coward, too weak to do the right thing. I am a fucking coward...a coward...nothing more than a...
Sleep takes a hold of me, ending my inner turmoil for just a little while. Once again, I see Rex and he wills me to fight on. This time, Metro is with him. My boys are looking out for us and that is something I can live with. For now, at least.
Fight for them, Imogene. Fight for the underdogs and the beaten. Fight for the damned and the mothers that are forced to do the unheard of in order to live. Fight so that you can pay that fucker back, the one that marked up your neck and almost ended you before you could get this far.
Fight for yourself. Fight for your life.
Ashwood Greenley, 17 – District 12 Male
POV From Brandle Regnas, District 12 Citizen
Vykktor
Day Seven
I'm honestly surprised right now. I personally thought we would get caught, but somehow we managed not to. I guess I underestimated Ashwood's guts.
The big skinny bastard surprised us all when he finally got out of that chair of his at the beginning of the Games. Well, most of us. I knew he was fine. But everyone else, well, no. They didn't know. He didn't even tell his siblings. I have to give him props for that sort of dedication. Kid's got some serious acting chops, too. That whole debacle in the Justice Building almost had me convinced that he really was crippled. Heh. Almost.
We cooked up the scheme around mid-July, actually. Only a couple of weeks before the reaping. We were going through some typical physical therapy sessions when he said to me, "Brandle, I have an idea."
So I responded. "What's that?" I asked.
He looked at me with a very serious fire in his eyes. This kid was determined. He said "I think I want to go into the Hunger Games."
I let out a dry bark of laughter. Honestly thought it was a joke, I did. But then I looked back at him and the look on his face hadn't changed a bit. Still had that stony gaze fixed straight at me. He didn't say a thing as he waited for me to respond. Finally I said, "Wait, you're serious?"
He nodded slowly.
I smiled and ran a hand through my curly, black hair. "You really can't stand this physical therapy, can you?"
Ash's brow furrowed. "I'm serious here, Brandle," he said. "I think this is a perfect way to enter the Hunger Games. In a wheelchair."
At first, I thought he was crazy. Entering the Hunger Games while in a wheelchair seems like a suicide mission. "Are you on a suicide mission?" I asked him. "Do you want to die?"
He shook his head. "Nah, man. I'm gonna win."
I gave Ash a sarcastic look. "Really," I said, "And how might you be doing that?"
A smile spread across that wily kid's face. "I fake it."
"Yeah, that'll work," I said snidely. "Like you could fool the doctors at the Capitol."
He shook his head again. "They aren't the ones that need convincing Brandle. It's the Capitolites."
That's where he got me. I looked at him, that mischievous grin on his face, and adopted one of my own. I took his hand into my own. "I see where you're going with this, kid. Fool the Capitolites into thinking you're some poor cripple who's been thrown into the Games by the cruel hand of fate. Sympathy votes galore, right?"
Ash nodded. "That's exactly what I was thinking," he said, grinning.
And so, our master plan went into action. Ash would do his physical therapy exercises and whatnot as regularly as before, but as far as everyone else knew, he simply wasn't doing any better. In reality, though, I was training Ash in all the different medical procedures I could think would be helpful during the Games. I taught him what to do in case he was burned, stabbed, being choked, if he broke an arm or a leg, all sorts of stuff. I taught the kid how to identify some of of the more subtle poisonous plants, but due to the amount of time he spent in the woods, he already knew about most of the poisonous vegetation growing around District Twelve.
Like I said before, I have to commend him on how well he handled the Justice Building. That was a spot-on performance. I remember telling myself afterwards that he might actually have a pretty good chance.
Then, of course, came the Capitol. Man, that was suspenseful. I thought that kid from Seven was going to find him out. Thankfully, Ash was able to fool pretty much everyone. Now, granted, I'm sure that he must've been examined by the Capitol's doctors and found out there, but they must've gone along with the sympathy ploy, because Kleon was pressing the issue all through Ash's interview. Thankfully, Ashwood managed to resist pulling any fast ones (like standing up, for example) and managed to fend the eternally sparkly host off.
Now, the Games itself is an entirely different story. Once the guy stood up and started sprinting, there was this collective gasp among the people of District Twelve. I was standing next to Tirk and Ayma during the Bloodbath, actually. They did not appreciate having that little tidbit held from them; a point I learned once Tirk lifted me up by the collar and hauled my skinny body off to their shack once the fight was over.
"What the hell, Regnas?" he shouted. "Why in the world would you not tell us Ash was fine?"
"Because," I growled, trying to get some air as I was being pressed against the wall, "You guys didn't need to know."
"Why the hell would we not need to know? Ash is our brother!" Ayma exclaimed, furious.
"You guys would have stopped him if you'd have known!" I argued. Tirk lifted me higher.
"Of course we would have stopped him you bastard! You just sent our brother into the damn Hunger Games!"
I paused before responding. I asked myself, "Do I really want to tell them it was all Ash's idea?" I mean, that could cause some serious gaps between the siblings if Ash manages to make it home alive. But if I tell them it was all my idea, they would never forgive me if he died in the Arena. …Then again, they probably kill me even if I told them it was his idea. Great. So either way, I'm screwed.
"Hear me out, will you?" I responded finally. "Ash was skeptical at first, too, but once he listened to me, his perspective changed." Tirk's eyes darkened. His fist clenched harder around my shirt collar, putting an enormous amount of pressure on my chest.
"I don't want to hear it." Ayma put a hand on Tirk's shoulder.
"I do, actually. I want to know exactly what you thought would be a good enough reason to send our brother into an arena of death," she spat coldly.
Her words stung me. I was Ash's friend before the Hunger Games, and I do regret sending him into that Arena, but I did truly believe he could win this thing. I do now! I looked at Ash's two siblings. There was so much emotion in their eyes. Hate, anger, sadness. I saw it all. I took a deep breath.
"The Capitol loves a good sob story," I said. "And what is more pathetic than a tribute in a wheelchair being forced into the Games? Capitolites eat that sort of thing up. They will have so much sympathy for him that he will get showered in sponsor gifts. Ash is the ultimate underdog!" The longer I kept talking, the more convinced I made myself that this was actually a good idea.
Soon Tirk had lowered me from the wall and allowed me to sit down. I told them about how I trained Ash in the ways of medicine and what to do in mortal danger. By the end of my explanation, both Tirk and Ayma softened considerably.
"I understand the logic to this whole scheme of yours, Brandle," Ayma said, being the first to speak. "But why Ash? I'm sure there's got to be some other kid in Twelve that is facing a similar situation."
"It may come as a bit of a surprise, but I'm not exactly as much of a social butterfly as I may seem to be," I said wryly.
From then on, the tension in the room gradually decreased. Soon I was able to go back outside and watch what was going on in the Arena. I got back to the town square just as Ash shot an arrow at an opossum.
And so, that's how my days went from then on. Just day after day, sitting in front of some sort of a screen, watching Ash's every move. I felt like a mentor, just watching him, whispering little bits like, "Okay, good, you didn't fall for that trap," or "Don't you dare leave that tree". The tension was palpable pretty much every second of the day, especially when the arena switch happened. I was as amazed as everyone else in Twelve, naturally. Just like that, all the remaining tributes were just 'Poof!' thrown into a completely different Arena. I'm just glad that knockout gas didn't have any adverse effects on Ash. I could see a couple of people, particularly that boy from One, writhing around in their sleep before coming to in the new arena.
The most intense moment, of course, was when Ash had the stupidity to actually leap into the water inside the boathouse. Even I could see that it was obviously trap material. But no, that kid just had to get that bucket. I could feel my heart pounding as he slowly waded through the water. The tension was incredibly thick. Waiting for the other shoe to drop was the most intense thing I have ever waited for, though I must admit it wasn't in the way I had expected.
As soon as Ash managed to pull himself back up to the floor of the boathouse, a pair of Peacekeepers barged into my house in the Seam. One had their baton out and the other had an electronic clipboard with a document on it.
"Brandle Regnas," the Peacekeeper with the clipboard said in an intimidating tone, "You are hereby under arrest for the possession of illegal narcotics, practicing medical procedures, and assisting a tribute in preparation for the Hunger Games. Come with us immediately or be forcibly removed for the area."
I looked back up at the television. Ash was on the ground, bleeding. There were Quickfangs, living and dead, all around him. "I can't leave now!" I thought to myself. I turned to the Peacekeepers. "Could I at least stay until I know what happens to my friend?"
The Peacekeepers stepped forward. "You will not be warned a second time. Come with us or we will force you to do so." The Peacekeeper with the baton stepped forward again when I didn't immediately respond. Right as he was raising he his weapon, I flinched and shielded myself with my hands.
"Okay, fine, I'm going. Take me with you," I said quickly. The Peacekeeper responded by roughly gripping my arm and shoving me out the door of my little house. There, the Peacekeeper with the clipboard took a small device from his belt. He pushed a button in the middle and it expanded into some sort of headband-looking thing. Very sleek, very intimidating, and very much something that I do not want on my head.
The Peacekeeper took me by the hair and shoved the metal headband onto my skull. It sent painful currents of electricity surging through me, bringing me to my knees. The band clamped down hard on my forehead, and suddenly expanded again so that it covered my eyes and ears. I was so afraid that they would kill me right there that I actually tried fighting back. I lashed out with my fist, and in response I got a quick blow to the shoulder, probably from the Peacekeeper with the baton. So that was a bad decision. I lay still, and one of the Peacekeepers gruffly picked me up and took me… somewhere. I don't know where; I was blind and deaf.
When I finally regained my sight, I was strapped to a chair inside a dark, musty room. The thin, sinister figure of a man stood over with something clutched in his hand. He brought it up to my face and I realized it was a scalpel. "Oh no," I realized with horror. "I know exactly what's going on."
He gripped my cheeks in a painfully firm grip and uttered four words that would haunt me the rest of my life.
"Stick out your tongue."