Weaver Twill- District Eight male
I hadn't thought I would get this far. Here we were, three days into the Hunger Games, and I wasn't dead yet.
"Thirteen of us left. We might actually pull this off," Jerrimiah said with a smirk.
"Maybe you," I said.
"Why me?" Jerrimiah asked.
"You're just stronger than me and all that," I said.
"You're so down on yourself. You made it this far," Jerrimiah said.
"Just lucky, I guess," I said.
"Are the Careers lucky when they win?" Jerrimiah asked.
"No, they're all trained," I said.
"You lasted longer than two of them," Jerrimiah said.
"I guess," I said.
"You don't guess. You know," Jerrimiah said. "You're so certain you suck at everything. Did Kodiak and Jaydalin suck at everything? Man up and admit you're not terrible."
They are dead, I admitted. And I wasn't. Maybe luck had something to do with it, but facts were facts. Whatever the reason, I survived them. Whatever it took to survive, I had more of at least some part of it.
"You really think I can win?" I asked. Jerrimiah was so much cooler than I was. He hopped trains and rode cows and all those cool things Ten kids did.
"Yeah, why not?" he shrugged. "It's happened before. Just as well you as anyone else. And really, better you. I'm trying to win and all that, but the world will be better off it it's you. I'm just a dumb cowboy. The cows will go on if I die. Thatcher needs you."
"If you win,can you send him some money? Not much, just so he can get a little house?" I asked.
"Don't worry about that. Buy it yourself. But yeah, of course I will," Jerrimiah said. He shook his head and sighed. "You got me all soft, darn it."
We sat side by side on the far side of the coral reef, looking out into the open ocean. I thought it must remind him of home, how clear and wide it was. It certainly didn't look anything like Eight. If Jerrimiah thought I could make it, maybe I really could. I was ready to die when I volunteered and if I did, I wouldn't be sad, but maybe I really could see Thatcher again. I knew he was rooting for me, with that unmerited, dauntless faith all little brothers have. He thought I was the coolest person in the world. Jerrimiah thought I was cool, too. Maybe it was time I started thinking it.
Declan Malone- District Ten male
The longer I stayed down here, the worse it would be for my body. I was no doctor, but I knew people weren't meant to live underwater. I already felt weirdly weightless and off-balance, and I couldn't even tell what damage was going on inside my brain. I had to get out of here and back to Micah.
People who didn't have kids couldn't understand. It wasn't that parents were better, or smarter, or wiser. We were just different. When I first saw my son, I changed down to my soul. Until that moment, I did everything for myself. The woman I kept, the people I ran with, the things I did, were all for me. The change Micah made in me was unfathomable. My priorities rearranged themselves in the blink of an eye. All my life, my first thought was 'what's in it for me?'. I looked at the fragile, beautiful thing in Madeline's arms and something came into my head that I never would have imagined before.
I would die for you.
Just like that, I wasn't my priority anymore. Everything in my world was that perfect life we'd made. He was the reason I got clean. He was why I left my gang, knowing that if I stayed with them I wouldn't be around long enough to watch him grow up. He was why I worked, and why I stayed, and why I carried on. And it was all worth it I wasn't a different person. I was a better me, the me I should have been without a child. I loved him so much I thought I'd never even understood love before. After he was born, I couldn't have stayed with the gangs if I'd wanted to. I understood life after looking at him, and I knew how precious it was.
I loved my son so much I was willing to do things that made me unworthy of him. I took a spear at the Bloodbath. I knew my son might watch me kill someone. I knew how twisted it was that I was willing to kill someone else's child, knowing they loved that child the same way I loved Micah. I couldn't claim the high ground, and I wasn't going to live the example I wanted for my son. I was willing to make that sacrifice. Any sacrifice for him. To ensure my son got a safe, secure life, I was willing to make his father into a murderer.
As I swam through the rainbow reef, alive with color and wildlife, I wasn't looking for other Tributes. I didn't want to kill. I just knew that if it came down to it, I wouldn't hesitate. My life wasn't important. My morality wasn't important The only thing that mattered was him.
Iosefka Crow- District Three female
I wasn't looking for trouble. I'd adopted the same strategy as so many of the fish around me, and I was aware of the potential irony, should I dig for it. I'd staked out my territory, my little hidey hole in the vast reaches of the coral, and when it was invaded, I defended it.
When someone swam overhead, I had to assume it was a Career. If it wasn't, I eliminated a treat that had to die eventually if I wanted to win. If it was, I couldn't afford not to attack. The Careers were hunting. If they were nearby, they would search every nook and cranny. They would find me, flush me out, and kill me. Attacking was my only hope, thin as it was.
I pushed off the coral behind me, launching myself above the coral and throwing my net. It billowed out gently, slowed by the resistance of the water. All the same, it coiled around the Tribute's feet, tangling them. The shards of coral dug into the boy's wetsuit but didn't penetrate it, and I cursed under my breath.
The boy whipped around, ready to fight. He held a spear, and I knew the tide had turned. He grabbed the net and yanked. The coral spurs I'd studded the net with were spaced widely, and he grabbed between them, avoiding the poison, unintentionally or not. I, of course, also held the net between them, but I was still yanked forward by his pull. He shoved his spear toward me as he pulled, sticking it into my chest. But it wasn't over. It was a shallow wound, slowed by the water just like my throw. It was when he stabbed me again that I started to lose hope.
I'm not going win this one, I realized flatly. With some clinical interest, I noticed that the second stab had punctured a lung. That wasn't fatal, necessarily. I could recover from that. It was the third stab that did me in. Blood gushed from my chest like a burst balloon, and its bright redness told me the boy had hit an artery. Probably the aorta, I thought dimly. It led all down my chest, bringing blood all through my body. At least it did until a minute ago. Now it was all around me. The essence of my life, dissipating along with me.
I did this out of order, with Jerrimiah referencing cannons that haven't been written yet. That was just because I didn't want to do a cannons thing for two cannons.
14th place: Iosefka Crow- Speared by Declan
Iosefka's form mentioned it would be cool if she went insane from hiding a lot time. I totally would have done that, but with this Arena, the Games aren't going to last that long. It's gonna be like a week. I knew Iosefka had what it took to go a long way, so I didn't kill her, but I never really had a plan for her to win. It could have happened, but instead I kept her a respectable time and then killed her. She had a good thing going with the poison, and that IS something I should utilize more. It's just hard to use ranged weapons underwater. Sucks to have a sucky Arena. Thanks aceswims for a medical student I had the experience to write and someone who was realistically strong and had a reason to have those strengths.