Chapter Forty Seven- Behind the Shield

(Fearne, 13th day)

As I sit on what we call the kitchen worktop, holding my old toy close to me, I must admit that I am a little upset that it came with no note. I would have at least liked a message from my best friend, or Hazel if it was possible; I didn't even bother to put hope in getting a message from dad, if he's at home. Yes, I am unbelievably happy that I have something from home, but I would have been even more so if it came with a message from there, too.

I sigh and tuck my knees up, closer to my chest, my teddy resting on top of them, so that it seems to be looking at me. Whilst Elijah is out hunting, this is the only bit of home I have left. I can't believe anymore that this house is the same as our actual one because, after nearly two weeks here, I've explored every nook and cranny and, other than the initial appearance, there's nothing else. Elijah was right originally: it was just for show.

However, at least now there are also Elijah's two pictures from home: our first and final completed family portrait, in addition to the picture he later found of mum and dad's wedding photo, hidden behind the first one. I know that seeing the first one made him incredibly happy- me as well, just not as much as him- so I can only imagine what feeling he got when he saw one he'd never seen before.

This morning, when he woke me up for my short watch, he didn't really say anything, but he was grinning like crazy. When he went to sleep with the picture frame in his hands, I didn't think anything of it; I, too, planned not to let my reunited possession out of my sight, but at least mine was a normal thing to hug. It was only when I woke him up a couple of hours later that he put the picture I'd already seen in its old place, and then the new one in the frame next to it.

Smiling at the recent memory, I jump silently off the side and onto the floor, padding over to the only two occupied frames in the whole house. I really just want to see them again, even though I only saw them a few minutes prior to now. Like Elijah, I get this sudden feeling of great happiness whenever I see those two pictures, and I, like him, want to experience those times again, when we had no idea of what a broken family was like.

First, I look at the older picture, the one from our parents wedding. I don't remember dad at all and I don't remember ever seeing mum completely happy, so to see them on what would have been their favourite day of their life only makes me wish I could have experienced such a thing. I can imagine that, if I won these Games, I'd try pretty hard, but I would, sadly, no longer have Elijah with me.

Before I was reaped, I would have loved to get married and have kids; seeing those pictures of mum and dad only make me still want to, even though I probably won't be able to. I would have liked to have been the mother in a family, where I'd always be there for my children. True, they wouldn't have had grandparents on my side, but I would have worked as hard as possible to make sure their life would be worth it. Now, I'm not so sure it would be.

I then turn my attention to the picture of us all together and smile again. See? That's what a family should be like all the time. They shouldn't have to worry about stupid televised competitions like this one, where they have to watch their children fight to the death; they should be able to spend their whole life with their children. They shouldn't have to worry about being convicted of a crime that wasn't their fault, either.

I sigh slightly and turn away, heading back to the kitchen. I jump onto the side and cross my legs up in front of me, as I wonder if what dad said he would do will actually happen. He said that if his team wouldn't help him rescue us, he'd do it on his own. The only thing is that I'm not sure exactly how he'd do that. I'd love him to, because I'd love for us both to go back, but I'm not certain he can and, unfortunately, if it's even him.

If it actually is dad at home, though, I suppose that it's definitely going to be a good thing. If Elijah was right in saying the reason that he originally left was because he was trying to cure Hazel, then maybe he's got it and has brought it back for her. Even if he hasn't, at least- if he's there, of course- Hazel will have someone there who really cares about her.

Right now, though, I'm kind of beginning to want Elijah back, so that I can have someone with me who cares about me. I know I'm being silly because he's only been gone for a few minutes, but I just want someone to talk with about all that I've been thinking about; all that I've been thinking about, concerning home. He'll know more about everything at home, more than I will at least.

I groan, bored, and lean my head against the wall, looking around the house. I miss the real one. No longer do I want this silly, make-believe cottage that is an overall unsuccessful attempt at making a fake one look like ours. I want to be able to be back at home, in our falling apart house, ready to run into the District; I don't want to be in the Arena, ready to run away from anyone trying to kill me.

As well, here, the routine is the same, day after day, after day. Every morning, once I've woken up my brother after my turn to watch, we eat a biscuit or two each; he always makes me have more than him, though. Then I sit in the kitchen, under the cupboard with our food in, my "weapon" at my side, so no one can get to me. Whilst I do that, Elijah goes out to hunt or gather some food.

At least at home, there was some variation between each day. Yes, it was a daily thing that Elijah would get up before the crack of dawn to get some work in before we all went to school. But then, after that, when Elijah would return to work, I'd always do something with Hazel; whether it was gardening or going around the District together, we'd always find something because she couldn't work and I was too young.

I glance out of the window from where I sit, wondering when Elijah will be back, but also trying to work out what me and Hazel would have been doing today, if I had been at home and if she were still fit to do everyday activities. Well, today would be- and still is- a Saturday, Hazel's favourite day of the week. That means we would have gone to the Square to sing with everyone, Hazel's favourite thing to do.

Even though I'm the younger one of us, because the things she could do were limited, it would always make me incredibly happy to see her smiling, when she did something that she enjoyed. I especially liked it if it were something that we could all do something together, which is why Saturday was so special; Elijah would always work extra hard during the rest of the week, so that we could spend that afternoon with us.

It was probably pretty obvious that, if we weren't there, Elijah would never have chosen to do it, but it's the fact that we both liked it so much that always put a smile on his face, too. I think the reason why Hazel enjoyed singing more than anything was because she was actually as good as everyone else for once, if not better than some; she was certainly better than the amusing attempts of our brother.

Because of this, we made it a kind of ritual to go down to the Square every week. We weren't the only ones there, either, because loads of other families would come, too. There, we would sing the old folk songs from long before the Dark Days, and it would be the only day in the week when those who met from the District would be really happy, because we'd always try to attempt a party or a get-together at the end.

I notice myself humming one the songs as I begin to wonder if Hazel managed to make her way to any of them without us. I know that she will have been devastated if she was too ill to go to them, so I can only hope that, if she wasn't too ill, but still couldn't make her way there, that one of our neighbours or one of our friends from there would come to help her. That would be if dad wasn't there to help.

Biting my lip, I go to rest my chin on my knees, until I hear a familiar sound from outside of the cottage. My head instantly snaps up as I recognise the sound as the one that Elijah usually made after finishing work, when he would walk quickly out of the forest, to return to us. Those sounds that are being made now are the ones I used to hear when he was particularly pleased with what he'd achieved that day.

I smile, but draw the backpack at my side closer to me, replacing the toy for the slingshot, just in case. Every past time he's sounded like that recently, he would be happy to be returning to me, pleased with the knowledge that I was safe because there had been no cannon, a signal that someone had died. That should be the same today- as there has been no cannon- so why do I feel uneasy?

I freeze when I hear his movements slow gradually, and then eventually stop. I can hear nothing else other than his footsteps, so I don't know why he's stopped. I think that I'm probably hoping against hope that I'm only accustomed to only hearing his footsteps, so I therefore cannot hear if there's some kind of animal next to him, that he can easily kill. I really hope so.

It's a few minutes later when I finally hear the familiar creak of the front door opening, I crouch on the side, my feet on the worktop as I prepare myself for a quick reaction on either account, good or bad. However, I stay silent, just in case it's the latter, although I'm hoping it will be good. Anyway, I have nothing to worry about if it is Elijah because he knows I'll be here. If it's not him, they don't need to.

Luckily, my position is slightly out of sight of the door, so I can see whoever is coming in, before they see me. In the circumstance that I discover almost instantly after a first, unusually booted foot crosses the threshold, I am therefore fortunate that I now know that is most definitely not my brother. However, there has been no cannon and I am certain I heard him, so he should be nearby.

Almost as soon as I realise this, I hold my breath to try to stay as silent as possible. Then I pack my old toy into the top of the backpack at my side, stuffing it in, on top of the supplies that Elijah checked were in there before he left to hunt. Once I've done that, I quietly put the bag over my shoulders, trying not to make a single noise as I keep my eyes fixed onto the unfamiliar pair of feet, whose owner is exploring the rest of the house.

Without taking my eyes off of the invader, I reach behind me to unlatch the tiny window, that probably can't be called as such. I'm just lucky that I know it's there and that I know the points at which it squeaks or needs adjusting, so that it doesn't. It's just when I've managed to open the window up as far as it will go, fortunately without any noises, that I decide that maybe Elijah is waiting for me, knowing that I will do exactly this.

"Well, well, well, what have we got here, then?" the invader mockingly sings, their voice I recognise as one of the common voices for the most brutal of the Career pack. This one, I know, is the boy from Two, who was most definitely the one in charge of their group, and who suddenly seemed a lot more desperate for a kill from sometime before the Feast, onwards.

As soon as I know it's him, I shuffle closer to the window without making a sound and finally turn away, so I can jump out and then run.

I go to take a deep breath, steadying myself, before a heavy hand grabs the backpack behind me and pulls me down, so I land on the side with a thud, looking up at the smirking Career. "It seems as if we've found the baby of the competition, now that the mummy and her addition from Six were taken out long ago," he decides, almost laughing.

I don't say anything, but try to escape from the straps of my bag, instead. However, he catches my wrists and drags a knife down one of my arms, the sudden intense pain causing a gasp to come from my lips.

This time, though, he does actually laugh, and I have to shut my eyes, so that I can't see his smug face. "I'm sorry, baby, that it's only now that you get to know what a thing such as this is like. I'll teach you a lesson, therefore, and tell you that what you're about to experience is called dying."

I clench my fists at my side, the reasons why I already know what it is flashing through my mind, mainly thoughts of mum, and maybe dad. "I know what it is, and I'm not about to experience it for myself," I mutter, twisting in his hold. "Maybe I'll see you experience it, instead."

"Not likely," he disagrees, moving his hands, so one is holding me and the other is holding a sharp blade close to my side. "Especially not after what trouble I've left your District partner in."

My whole body freezes as I hear this, trying desperately not to imagine what peril he could have put my brother in; enough, probably, to leave him to suffer and to be not in a position to move, but not quite in the state where he will die soon. To whatever higher power people used to believe in, though, I suddenly find myself praying to, because he can't die now.

"What's wrong, little girl?" he asks, anything but a hint of caring and interest in his voice. "Can't find it within yourself to believe in what you know is true?"

I bite my lip. It surely can't be true. Elijah would have fought this Career off without thinking, and he wouldn't have let him get off lightly. He said he'd look after me but, truthfully, he needs to look after himself more. He needs to go home, at least to look after Hazel.

Almost as if he can hear my thought, he says, "You've got a sister at home, as well, haven't you? Is she dead, yet, or just near it?"

I know she's not dead. Now, I'm sure that dad's going to be home with her, because he wouldn't have left alone in such a state where she was so ill. No matter how hard he would have had to try to get back, he would have definitely managed it.

"Actually, you're right," he reasons. "You do already know what death is. Unlike some of those kids in the Bloodbath, you knew what coming here meant at the end. I mean, even they knew more than District Six's extra life, but you've seen death before. Wasn't it that your dad ran away and probably died because of doing bad things, and your mum died a few years after that? You're nearly a pro."

My eyes snap open when he finishes talking and I notice he's still got a smirk on his face as he watches me struggle. However, the real reason I open my eyes is because I can hear the faintest sound of pressure on one of the floorboards, an almost silent footstep being one that I can recognise without thinking. I knew that this Career was lying to me.

He must follow my gaze to his boots because when Elijah draws closer, the Career boy twists my arms back so hard that I can't help but scream. The boy laughs, but isn't laughing a second later when my brother has arrived, bringing down a forceful blow on his shoulder and causing him to drop his hold on me. After feeling it, the Career turns his attention on the one who made it happen.

I sit up and rub my arms quickly, before trying to work out what I can do to help my brother in this fight, without getting in the way, at the same time. I look at him and notice that he already has a slightly bloodied head and the beginning of a black eye. For now, though, other than the injured shoulder he can still fight perfectly with, the Career seems uninjured.

Upon seeing this, I jump on the Career's back, attempting to prevent him from fighting, so that Elijah can finish the whole thing. I also try to hit the side of the boy's face as I pull his back down, my tries kind of useless. This is only shown by how he manages to cut both of my wrists, releasing my hold around his neck and making me tumble to the floor.

He turns back to me, cornering me before I get the chance to escape, and then raises his sword above his head. Elijah catches it with his own weapon and throws it out of the other boy's hand, so that I am safe, for now. Then Elijah hits the boy's leg and pushes him away, so he can nurse his injured leg and no doubt get his weapon to continue attacking us.

My brother crouches down in front of my curled up, shaken form in the corner of the room and gently takes my cheeks in his hands. "Run, Fearne," he whispers, looking me straight in the eyes. "I can kill him, but not when I'm worrying about you here, too. Run, and I'll find you." He kisses my forehead, letting go off my cheeks, and, just as he goes to stand up, he manages to dodge a blow from the Careers sword. "Run!" he shouts.

I see the panic in his eyes as he glances back for just a second, before he focusses his attention back on the fight that has begun. I scramble to my feet and pick the backpack that I prepared earlier off of the side, putting it on my shoulders. Following one final desperate glance from my brother, I begin running, kicking the Career's legs out from under him, before leaving the house in a flash.

Once I am outside, I stop for a second, looking back. I don't want to go. I can't just leave him. He can say all he wants that he can't beat him whilst I'm there, but I don't know if I can leave him on his own. However, the look on his face as he shouted "run" for the final time goes through my mind, and I begin following his instructions, again. I know he was scared for me, so I can't make him even more scared by staying here.

I continue running for what could be hours or just a few minutes, but until I feel I'm in a part of the forest I've never been in before. Scanning around for the tallest and most sturdy looking tree, I spot it and climb it without thinking, until I stop somewhere near the top and curl up into a ball, after taking my old toy out of my bag and hugging it close to me.

"Elijah's not gone," I say quietly to myself, leaning my head against the bark of the tree.

"Elijah's not gone because he killed the Career," I decide when I hear a cannon in the distance.

"Elijah's not gone because he killed the Career; and Hazel's fine, too," I add, shutting my eyes.

"Elijah's not gone because he killed the Career; and Hazel's fine, too, because dad's gone home to look after her," I whisper, touching the ear of my toy.

"Elijah's not gone because he killed the Career; and Hazel's fine, too, because dad's gone home to look after her; and, wherever mum is, she's okay," I sigh, tears filling my eyes.

"Elijah's not gone because he killed the Career; and Hazel's fine, too, because dad's gone home to look after her; and, wherever mum is, she's okay, because they used to say that the best people went to a better place when they left here," I reminisce, a tear slipping down my cheek.

"Elijah's not gone because he killed the Career; and Hazel's fine, too, because dad's gone home to look after her; and, wherever mum is, she's okay, because they used to say that the best people went to a better place when they left here, so, of course she's there," I point out, a cool breeze making my cheeks feel like ice.

"Elijah's not gone because he killed the Career; and Hazel's fine, too, because dad's gone home to look after her; and, wherever mum is, she's okay, because they used to say that the best people went to a better place when they left here, so, of course she's there, because she was the best person in my life," I admit out loud, curling up tighter.

"Elijah's not gone because he killed the Career; and Hazel's fine, too, because dad's gone home to look after her; and, wherever mum is, she's okay, because they used to say that the best people went to a better place when they left here, so, of course she's there, because she was the best person in my life, and now I only have the rest of my family left," I reason, sniffling slightly.

"Elijah's not gone because he killed the Career; and Hazel's fine, too, because dad's gone home to look after her; and, wherever mum is, she's okay, because they used to say that the best people went to a better place when they left here, so, of course she's there, because she was the best person in my life, and now I only have the rest of my family left, so I'm never going to let one of them leave me again," I finish, now, fully crying, with tears streaming down my face like a fountain.

I stay like that for a while, until I begin to drop off, back to sleep. I finally let it hit me, though, just before the anthem is played, and before I can hear the code that we made at the Feast, yesterday, being relayed back to me.


Author's Note: And, once again, I'm a horrible person. There's nothing I can say, other than I'm really, really, ever so sorry. Bad Squishy!

But I do have the next chapter already written, as well, so I will be able to follow my plan of an update every week. The next chapter isn't necessarily going to be any happier, but I like it more, if that makes any sense.

Buttons301: I'm glad you liked them, because I didn't think they were anything particularly special.

Philippa: Wow! I'm glad you like it so much because, as I've said, I didn't think it was too good- I really don't like writing in the third person, or dialogues in the third person, or the past, or the past in the third person, or dialogues in the past in the third person, so I'm really pleased you liked it!

HungerGamesFan03: I'm so pleased you like it- it's always nice to have new readers!

Phoenix Abbot: Woah, maybe my writing in third person isn't as bad as I initially thought- three reviews saying it was good? I'm just glad it was so vivid! And, thank you, another little tricky one.

Recap: Nine chapters and the epilogue (aaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhh it's drawing so near!)

Next chapter: Something some of you have been looking forward to, and some of you have been dreading, I think.

My challenge: It's still going, so anyone can still give a number, just not: 3, 5, 7, 8, 14, 18 or 24.

I'd love a review!