Hlenn Rambutan- District Eleven female
I hated the Games, but I loved the Arena. It was unlike anything I'd seen in Eleven, but it was the same, because it was wild. The sky stretched on forever, without a single tree to cast a shadow. Sitting on top of a termite mound, I could see for miles, miles of blue and gold. The Capitol was a world away, and even though they'd carved out this little piece of nature, they would never know it like I did.
My allies were good people, but everyone needed some alone time. They weren't big on climbing, so I got the termite mounds all to myself. It was my own world, up in the air like the rainforest canopy.
In the distance, the sky darkened. A shifting, amorphous black line hovered at the horizon. It looked like a cloud, but I'd never seen a storm blow in that fast. It grew translucent, showing me that it was countless separate specks instead of a mass. My first thought was of the locusts that sometimes devastated our crops. I was about to scramble down the hill, sure that any Capitol locusts would be carnivorous, but the swarm was moving too fast. There was nowhere to go, and nothing to do but hope I was wrong.
A sheet of shadow swept over the land as the swarm neared. I heard their cries, and they were the cries of birds. Then I saw the wings, brown and red and beating the air with such force I thought the sky might fall. At the horizon, they were still coming. I heard my allies stir beneath me, but I didn't look down. I only looked at the birds. They were tiny things, the size of a robin, but red as clay. Never had I seen more of anything at once than those birds. They filled the air and blotted out the sun. As they grew nearer, the sound of their wings was louder than a hovercraft. And then they reached me.
I had braced myself for a legion of tiny beaks tearing into me, but the birds swept me by like a statue. All around me they flew, their wings brushing my cheeks and their feet sliding through my hair. I could have reached out and grabbed one effortlessly, like picking out a piece of the sky. They arced individually, and the mass described a mobius in the air. I was in the eye of a living cyclone, the breeze lifting my hair and cooling the Arena around me.
It seemed like something that could only last a fleeting second, but the birds took minutes to pass entirely. They swooped around, doubling back before they went on their way. I watched them paint the sky red ahead of me, until they were gone, from one horizon to the other.
Joella Krame- District Nine female
There were so many reasons I was crying. There was the heartbreaking beauty of the birds, but at the same time, there was the fear they brought. I was sure we'd be torn apart by the swarm. We were helpless and awaiting death, and then it passed. The relief of salvation was tempered by the knowledge that it could happen again at any time, and there was nothing we could do about it. There was no pardon, only a stay.
"You'll get dehydrated," Isabelline said, but she was trying to be kind. I nodded and scraped the tears from my face.
"Guess we just have to keep going," I said.
"Isn't that always the way?" she agreed.
"But how do we keep trying if we know there's no hope?" I asked. In the end, nothing was up to us. The Capitol decided who lived and who died. Your job was decided by where you were born, and who you were born to. Your life was written by powers out of your hands.
"We keep trying to change it. One in a million times, someone does," Isabelline said. "Most of us don't get our dreams. But some people do."
My dreams. I thought of all the things I'd worked toward before the Arena, a lifetime ago. What did a doctor do but defy fate? It used to be anyone who got sick or injured could only wait for death. Doctors seized half-gone souls and held them in place until the body grew back. And even if it didn't work, and the person died, I would still be living my dream. I wasn't asking to rewrite the stars. I just wanted to be a doctor, and that was something I could do.
So much of healing came from the patient. I thought back to the pain management techniques we'd used on pregnant women. No matter the advances, pregnancy was still dangerous. Every new mother risked death, and yet they still looked at childbirth as a blessing. They focused their breathing, concentrating on the vital motion instead of the pain. In the same way, they focused their thoughts, ignoring the danger and looking forward to the end. It didn't make it less dangerous, but it made it more bearable. I had to do the same. I couldn't think about the Arena, or it would drag me down like a quagmire. I had to look forward, to what came next. There was death and pain now, but after, I would fix that. I'd spend the rest of my life making up for all this.
Dina Emmer- District Five female
I should have been more careful. After Historia, I should have been checking every clump of grass and every pile of mud. But I didn't, and that was what started the whole mess.
I wasn't even by the water's edge when it happened. I was just walking along the river, looking for random plants or maybe a toad we could cook. Then the mud sprang to life and grabbed my foot. I shrieked and kicked it off as the rest of the Tribute appeared. I never should have been fooled. Half his face wasn't even disguised. I could see the livid skin and the horrific, stomach-turning eye. It dangled. It dangled from the socket, tethered by a shriveled line that should never, ever have been visible to a socket that was oozing pus and swollen far too small to ever fit the eye back inside. It was wrinkled and dry and dead. Only the pinkness of the flesh cord gave any sign of life and the pain it must still have been causing.
The boy fought to his feet as I ran. He was panting before he even started, and his jerky movements showed how sick he was. It was like a zombie was chasing me. I made it to the tree and clambered up like a chased cat. The boy stopped at the bottom, and my heart stopped when he started to climb.
"Wait!" I said. My tone gave the boy pause. I was scared, but I was also urgent.
"Wait a few minutes. My ally will come back. He's more of a threat to you. Kill him first," I said.
"You're lying," the boy said.
"Look, his footprints," I said, pointing to the trail Kaulan had left when he went out a bit to look for his allies. "He'll be back for water soon. We only have my bottle. Hide in the mud, and I'll call him."
"Why would you throw him under the bus?" the boy asked.
"I don't want to die," I said.
Kaulan Kippton- District Six male
My allies were nowhere to be found. I had the sick knowledge that we'd end up together eventually. Either the Gamemakers would force us together, or we'd all but one end up dead anyway.
On the way back, I started making a little poem for Dina. She'd been through so much, and Historia didn't get a proper burial.
Two little birds that tried to stay
Together from west to east
But when one was snatched up by a river beast
The other had to fly away
Fly away, fly away, little bird, fly away
There was nothing you could have done
Fly away, fly away, little bird, fly away
Into the western sun
I waved as I approached Dina, who was in the tree getting more water ready.
"No luck," I said. "They're probably looking for me too, though."
I reached up for the bottle Dina was lowering. Before I could touch it, the mud grabbed my foot and yanked it. I fell forward, splatting into the mud on my face. A weight pressed into my back. A hand grabbed my hair and shoved me down into the mud. I flopped and bucked, and for a moment, my face was clear. I saw Dina run down a branch over the river and jump when she reached the end, halfway across. She splashed into the water and frantically waded out. Then my face was in the mud again, as the frightfully strong Tribute pushed down with all his weight. Dina was never going to hear her poem, and it was just as well. If it was what I thought, she didn't deserve it.
Falcon Jacobs- District Ten male
Whoever sent me the matches, they were sick. I kept them in case we needed them. For campfires. Not fun fires.
It was random chance that saved us. I'd taken out a match to see what kind they were. If they weren't the waterproof kind, the ones that were a little harder to light, I'd have to take extra precautions to make sure we didn't accidentally start anything. As I held the match and box, I happened to look up, and I happened to see the sun glinting off Rose's raven-black hair.
Just as quickly, she saw me. She brought her bow up, aiming at Kio. As she did, I touched the match to the striking edge of the box.
"Do it, and I'll light this whole place up," I said.
"Everyone will die then," she said. Behind her, Cloey was fanning out, trying to flank us.
"I'm sure you studied us all. You know my past," I said. For once, I was glad for my reputation.
"So where we going from here?" Rose asked.
I struck the match. The scent of sulfur wafted up in a tendril of smoke.
"You have 'til this match burns down to get out of here. When it reaches my finger, I'll drop it whether or not I want to," I said.
Cloey drew back. Peacekeepers didn't like variables. Rose took a split second to weigh the odds, then followed, no doubt thinking that they snuck up on us once and could do it again. But now we knew they were there, and we'd be ready.
As they turned, I sagged in relief. I let down my arm. As the match lowered, brushing against the bone-dry grass, I realized what I'd done.
15th place: Kaulan Kippton- smothered by Brad
Poetic Tributes always give me a chance to show off. Kaulan's melancholic nature contrasted nicely with the largely ambitious and future-oriented bunch this year. His fluxuating mental state was also realistic. I didn't pick him to win because he didn't have much really going for him as far as Victor skills, but I liked him. Thanks santiago for a tribute who gave me a chance to write alternative POV styles, which always breaks up the monotony.