Day 1
Sparkle Aire
District 12 Female, 18
"Come on!" I urge Daisy on, when she whimpers as I drag her away.
She's limping pretty badly.
We can't go any faster, because Orla really messed up Daisy's ankle. It wasn't even that bad of a kick, but Daisy's bones are just… she's just so fragile. Maybe it's the malnutrition or the years of drug abuse, but I'm concerned that she won't be able to keep walking for much longer.
And that's not an option right now. Definitely not an option.
When I arrived, their one-sided confrontation didn't last very long. I thought I was going to punch Orla right through her head, as I arrived screaming and throwing rocks at the stupid bitch.
I know a coward when I see one, and Orla didn't want to mess with me.
We booked it out of there as soon as I scared Orla off. She'll probably be rolling around in food and supplies, until one of her allies decides to kill her, if she's not dead already. Meanwhile, we'll grovel with no supplies, no support and no proper hideout.
A spike of jealousy runs through me, and I scowl.
We're alive. That's enough for now, I remind myself before I go down that road.
The air isn't still, not even for a second. The rides around us keep moving, adding to the uncomfortable impression that there's always someone there at the edge of your vision, flitting around and casting shadows as the unending lightbulbs disappear from your view momentarily.
It's as though this entire arena was designed to creep the living shit out of us. It most definitely was, but you know… why couldn't we be the year that got a nice cute meadow or something?
Daisy hisses in pain as her foot catches on a particular rock and I frown, surveying our surroundings for what feels like the billionth time.
I'm fucking paranoid, but can you blame me?
We're moving at a snail's pace and I know for a fact that any one of those Careers could catch up to us. I saw what they did to those other kids.
I only really saw two people die, but from the way people kept screaming, I'm sure we'll get the whole picture soon enough when the darkness sets.
Unwillingly, my mind wonders back to the events that transpired mere hours before.
We're still barely ten feet from the fence, which will hide us from view once we enter the amusement park.
Still out in the open.
And my heart is beating at a thousand miles an hour, thinking about the Three girl that I saw escaping with a bow and arrow.
She could finish us off easily, right about now.
I lost sight of Orla a long time ago.
Doesn't matter. The plan is that we're getting the hell out of dodge.
But curse my morbid curiosity, or maybe it's instinct… I look back, because of someone's piercing scream.
It's the girl from Eleven, who falls on the ground and looks like she's going completely batshit. Nearing the Cornucopia, the girl who I'm guessing was her ally lies dead. District 11 stops herself though, picking herself up and sprinting in the same direction as we're going. She passes us, jamming her ticket into the slot of the turnstiles before clearing them and speeding off. If she had wanted to, she could have tried to attack us.
Shit. We are directly in the path of those running for the park, and I don't like it one bit.
The cold sweat follows the trail of my spine as I roughly keep shoving Daisy to safety.
And then I see Cira, slicing through the neck of the boy who is slumped near the other girl's corpse.
His allies escape to the woods, crying. I grab hold of Daisy, protectively.
My eyes widen as Cira stumbles away from the boy she just killed, her hands full of blood. It's horrifying that I can see this with such intimate detail, but the blood… it stains everything so brightly. It's brighter even than the roof tiles on some of the shacks inside of the park.
She flayed open his neck like it was the easiest thing in the world, her face set in a grim mask of determination.
And that's when the whole damned plan goes right out the window.
My rage suppresses any logic and fear.
How could she possibly think she has the right to take someone's life like that?
Her pretty lips scrunch up just a tiny bit, supressing the natural reaction of disgust from surfacing. For the cameras no doubt.
It's all a show to her.
I let go of Daisy's small frame, a growl escaping my lips. I want to kill her. I'm insignificant to her, because she doesn't even spare a glance my way and I want to show her that she didn't deserve any of the nice things she had while I grovelled in the dirt and misery. She's the kind of person that deserves to rot in this god-forsaken place.
She won't last in these games, I'll make sure of that…
I don't even have a weapon, but I'm not thinking straight. We're about to have a motherfucking throwdown, and if I die, at least I die exposing her as the hypocritical privileged bitch that she is.
And… and –
"Sparkle, please!"
Daisy's tear-filled eyes imploringly plead with me, as she stands there shivering.
I realize I've absentmindedly started jogging towards the bloodbath, undoing the progress we've made. My fists are clenched to my sides. My ally doesn't even have to say anything else, the wind making her pants stick to her skeletal legs.
I suddenly become hyper-aware of the fact that now is not the time to indulge in my fantasies, just to satisfy my feelings of inadequacy and jealousy.
Keep it together Sparkle, I berate myself, shaking my head as chaos rages around us. I have to choose now, what kind of person I'm going to be.
It could cost me my life but more importantly, Daisy would die here and now. I'd die, and she wouldn't even stand a chance.
I make my decision.
"Sparkle…" Daisy pants, almost falling on the ground, "can we … please… take a break?"
"Soon," I answer brusquely, quickening our pace just to spite the world. I whip my head around, my braided hair hitting my cheek, when I think I see someone running through the small alleyway to our left.
Once again, it's just the wind. For fuck's sake.
The park is huge and convoluted.
I haven't seen any actual tributes the way we went, but I'm still not satisfied.
We lapse into uncomfortable silence, which is punctuated by Daisy's uneven breathing and my own irregular strained noises as the events of today settle on me like some heavy and suffocating mantle.
We arrive at a cleared area, with some sand and swings in the middle.
It's a playground, I realize dumbly.
I still feel too exposed, but Daisy practically collapses onto the bench and starts dry-heaving, probably from all of the stress, pain and running over the past two hours.
After shoving her for the best part of this time, I awkwardly step backwards, letting her have some space. I look away, my eyes drifting towards our surroundings.
Always assessing.
I already feel tired of this bullshit.
The sanded circle is surrounded by a cement border, decorated with flowers, leaves and bumblebees. Some of the paint flaked off, but it still gives the playground a cute appearance. You wouldn't think they'd pay attention to that kind of detail, but of course they do. They're the fucking Gamemakers.
At the entrance, there's a sign.
I squint at it, trying to read it from the bench. My calves burn from the walking and while I'm not injured, minimizing my movement might be a good idea, considering we have no food or you know… a stable caloric intake in the foreseeable future.
We didn't risk grabbing anything from the Cornucopia and getting skewered for our efforts, after all…
"Kids must be supervised by an adult guardian," I mutter to myself, then smirk at the sign.
"Guess you're under my supervision now, huh Daisy?"
Usually so eager to hang onto every word I say, my ally doesn't even look up.
I get up to walk around the large wooden painted structure in the middle of the playground, observing it. It's got a mast in the middle and a large plastic flag hanging from it, as though billowing in the wind. A yellow slide is at the right, and I have to resist the childish and unyielding urge to clamber up the structure.
We didn't have any of these in District 12, our parks made of rusty metal poles and dirty garbage bags children used to sift through.
But in District 1, I remember things like these existing. The playgrounds weren't as intricate or colorful, but…
I can almost see the children chasing each other, laughing and screaming in delight. Some pretending to hoist up the fake flag on this pirate ship. Cira probably was one of those kids, while I never got the chance to really enjoy it before it was ripped away. Even with this realization, my anger is subdued.
"Hey Daisy, you ever have stuff like this back home?" I ask curiously, walking back towards the girl. She shudders, grabbing at her ankle. Doesn't say a word.
I kneel in front of her.
"Hey, I know you're scared."
I try adopting my most motherly voice, grimacing at how foreign it sounds.
Daisy looks up and her eyes are red with tears. Her irises are so large and blue that I can see the contrasting tiny blood vessels branching out around them, as her panicked gaze searches my face for any reassurance.
I smile at her steadily, caressing her chin. She doesn't smile back, but instead leans into my touch, like a scared little puppy.
"I'm sorry I was so harsh with you," I say, sighing.
What the fuck happened to being an unapologetic bad bitch? Urgh.
"I was just… really frustrated, and I got carried away. But we're safe now. And look! We even have a park all to ourselves."
I'm vying for having the higher ground up above, using the slide as a quick escape route and already planning to build some kind of crude trap system around it. But Daisy's eyes wonder to the chair-sized mushroom pods that seem to be sprouting from the ground.
However many years ago, toddlers would have had a field day jumping from one to the other, avoiding the sand like it's lava, and I smile in earnest at that thought.
Or maybe this park is just a re-creation of the real thing, and no one ever really got to enjoy it at all.
I notice real mushrooms peeking out of the ground, their little hats pointing upwards. Like small buttons, in the green grass. Peculiar.
Little by little, the tension releases from my entire being.
We have a bit of time before shit goes down, again. No harm in hanging out a little bit.
I help Daisy to the swings, and she sits down on one carefully, making sure to not put too much pressure on her injured ankle. The shin looks bruised, but the joint actually started getting inflamed.
I push the swing for her to gain momentum without having to use her foot. The tight-lipped smile she throws back at me is pure gratitude.
She doesn't know it, but having her around…
She saved my life. I realize it now.
She saved me from doing something incredibly stupid back there, just because I had nothing to lose. The sum of everything that I am, everything that I ever endured, would have been extinguished because of some petty jealousy-ridden desire to hurt someone who got what was stolen from me. It's so weird to admit it, and I chuckle.
From here, we can hear the soar of the rides in the distance, but at the very least, we're far enough for the unsettling music and the lights to melt into the background.
Everything's attenuated, and I like it that way.
"Daisy…" I start again, sitting down on the swing next to her and grabbing her hand as we swing in synchrony. "You know you're really cool, right?"
She giggles. It's a small and pitiful sound, but at least it's something.
"Thanks, for not abandoning me back there."
"I wasn't going to," I reply, but the truth is that for a moment I was considering it.
"We'll get her, if you want," Daisy says after a while, as though reading my thoughts.
"We don't have to think about that right now," I reassure her, pushing myself off and swinging higher than she is.
Cassius Fleur
District 3 Male, 15
Bing, boop boop, blam.
"Congratulations, roll for another chance to win!"
"Shut the fuck up," Bex moans as the machine repeats the same stupid message for the tenth time in a row. A small pixelated alien dances on screen.
Roizer stands idly in a corner, as far away from the machine as possible.
He's the one who triggered it in the first place, and judging from his guilt-ridden expression, he couldn't look sorrier if he tried.
The little lights keep blinking insistently and I have to peel my eyes away from the screens around me to focus on the task at hand. The dark room is saturated in neon blues, greens and pinks, as the trill of the dozens of claw cranes, video games and pinball machines fill the stuffy space. This reminds me so much of the run-down machines we used to fight for with my friends in District 3, trying to jam our tokens in before the others in order to play our favourite game.
On a good day, Rye would come along, and we'd play until the owner kicked us out. But this place seems like the real deal… a whole building whirring with life of these game machines.
Maybe if we hadn't just escaped the bloodbath mere hours ago, I'd find this awesome. But Bex is still bleeding pretty badly through the shitty patch job I managed with some bandages we found at a popcorn stand.
Why they would have medical-grade bandages at a popcorn stand is concerning in and of itself, but I'm not like… complaining.
Just trying to understand the logic, that's all.
Reality is fabricated here, so it's not much of a surprise.
To be fair, the moment I saw the arena, I knew we were super-fucked. Not just normal-fucked in the sense that we were all going to die, but in a more insidious awful way that just gets under my skin.
I haven't actually vocally expressed it, because we've got much larger problems at hand. But the fact still is that the more we kept walking, the more hotdog stands I saw, with fries and ketchup bottles just lying around like it's our God-given right to eat that shit for free.
Vending machines found at each intersection, filled with candy bars and chip bags.
Freezers in the larger open-air balcony food courts we barrelled through to get to the arcade venue we're currently cooped up in. All of them hooked up to electricity and fully functional, from what I can tell. If I was a betting man, I'd say some of them are stocked up with food.
The Gamemakers don't want us starving to death.
They want bloodshed.
And I know this means that this will be a long and violent Hunger Games. I shudder, the implications of it all crashing down for the second time today. From my limited experience, that's never great, for non-Career districts.
Bex tries moving, more blood spilling from the wound.
My hands hover over her.
"Stop," I tell her again, "we need something to stitch it together… because like, you'll just keep losing blood."
"I'm fine," she insists, but as she gets up, she has to grab a neighboring machine to stay steady. The machine blares to life.
"Hit and run!"
Ding ding ding.
Bex groans, settling back on the carpeted floor. The cut is shallow and thankfully the blade didn't hit any major arteries, but it's still making her lightheaded from the blood loss.
And now we're squatting in the back of a dark arcade games hall, one ally missing.
I can see that it's eating away at Bex, making her restless. She wants to go back out there, to look.
"Where's S-Scout, you think?" Roizer asks, clearly the same gnawing thought on his mind.
"I promised him we'd play cards again… I promised," Bex whispers, and she sounds so broken. "We'll find him, guys."
I hate the way it almost sounds like a question. I swallow, trying to figure out any way I can spin this into a positive situation. But there's really nothing.
I don't know for how long we sit there, with Roizer hovering around restlessly, but Bex's wound actually crusts over a little bit. She can't move that side of her body without blood trickling through, but at the very least it stopped leaking steadily when I change her bandages.
I try to not let my inner panic show, but from Bex's unimpressed deadpan stare as I rewrap her bandages, she doesn't give me much to work with. I'm trying, but I've never felt so small and only fucking fifteen years old with a limited life perspective, in my whole life.
No more cannons sounded for a while, though, so that's reassuring.
And we need to know what else this building has to offer.
"Hey Roizer…"
His eyes go as wide as saucers. It's as if he knows what I'm about to ask of him.
"Can you… Do you think you could just go and explore what's around? I'm…" my stomach grumbles just to underscore that point, for good measure, "we're all probably hungry, and I'm sure there's a vending machine somewhere, and other stuff…"
I gesticulate at Bex, who is about to protest.
"I'd go but I can't leave her here."
The truth is that I'm not sure I could muster the courage to go. I'm not sure I could be stuck alone with my thoughts, right now.
Maybe this is an excuse or maybe it's the truth, and I honestly couldn't say. But I'm sure as hell not leaving Bex with a kid who looks like he's going to vomit any time he sees the dark stain on the carpet.
"Okay…" he finally manages.
I can see his throat working, as he swallows and sets his jaw in determination. He runs off and Bex's worried gaze follows him as he disappears in the darkness behind more screens.
"He'll be fine," I reassure her, patting her hand gently. I don't know why I've suddenly turned into the goddamn resident therapist, assuring everyone that things are going to work out when they most certainly will not, but…
They have work out somewhat for now, right?
Not even fifteen minutes later, Roizer stumbles back with a bunch of bags in his arms and I can't even express how glad I am that he's okay. The hammering in my chest quells, and I look at Bex victoriously. I only see exhausted relief in her dark eyes as she looks Roizer over from head to toe to make sure he's not injured.
See, didn't die! I almost want to say out loud, but that's just… so insensitive on so many levels. What the hell, Cas…
"There's – there's not much in terms of… ac-actual food," Roizer starts, shoving the chips our way eagerly. "I i-investigated the wh-whole arcade. There's a sm-sm-small fast food booth … at the b-b-ack."
He whistles nervously, and I nod encouragingly at him. "And a d-d-oor to the roof."
Bex immediately tries to get up.
"Stop, where do you think you're going?" I huff, trying to block her way. But even in her injured state, she somehow anger-steps around me.
"Bex, please just, one sec!"
"We've been here long enough and the anthem's any minute, if we haven't missed it."
Roizer and I both jog up to her, as even now her strides outpace us both.
I try to take her hand, but she jerks it out.
"I just need to know, okay?"
I'm taken aback by the brusqueness of her tone.
I nod resigned, and the apology in her eyes is enough.
I just… I don't want to see. But we should. We can't live in denial forever.
We make our way to the roof of the building, pushing through a creaking old locked door to find ourselves under a darkening sky. I have no idea what time it is, but we must have stayed hidden for at least five or six hours, after our frantic escape.
That makes sense, with how Bex's injury already started scabbing over a little bit. I internally congratulate myself on my pseudo-accurate observations. Not gonna lie, it's kinda nice that despite not knowing what the hell I'm doing, I'm getting the time sort-of right. That'll be useful when we need to actual fend ourselves from danger.
As I resist the urge to smack myself in the face, my eyes land on the scene in front of me. The tightness in my chests lets off, only slightly.
The wind ruffles my hair, and I exhale properly for the first time in what feels like an eternity.
The amusement parks looks beautiful, at such an altitude. The air carries hints of sweetness and my stomach aches for the kind of food down below. I let in a deep clean breath, savoring the different smells, and there's too many to count. The musical roar of the carnival no longer sounds as threatening and scary, from up above. And somehow, all of the greasy stains, the tent flaps and the faded signs are tucked away under the night sky, revealing a truly wonderous picture.
It's majestic.
"Wow…" Roizer breathes, sublime and childlike wonder written all across his face. I can't help but gaze around, marvelling, and we both share a goofy grin. It's almost like back in training. I just wish Scout was here. As I quickly look at Bex, her chin is jutting out and her lips are pursed. She doesn't see the beauty in this.
Only the danger.
"We'll need to find some alcohol and I can try stitching you up," I offer, a little breathless.
"And then we set out to search for Scout, in the morning," Bex agrees, looking out worriedly as though she'll be able to spot him in one of the alleyways that criss-cross around the different rides, buildings and shacks.
If he's still alive, hangs unsaid in the air between us, bringing me back to reality. I feel heavy and defeated, once again, despite the beautiful view.
The three of us almost jump out of our skins when all of the lights of the Wonderland park dim slightly, to accentuate the Panem seal across the dark blue sky.
The anthem blares, and we all look upwards.
Please. Please be alive, Scout.
We heard five cannons before, one of which came later. And I feel my palms sweating as I pray for Scout to not appear in the sky above us.
The first face to appear is Orla's, and the three of us release a collective sigh of relief.
It feels evil, but I can't bring myself to care. Scout's still out there!
I smile up at Bex, but her moment of respite is immediately replaced with worry.
"He's out there, all alone and scared."
I look up at her. "I know Bex, but he's alive."
Next, the older boy from Five appears, smiling knowingly. My heart aches for his district partner, who must be seeing this right now.
I … I can't even imagine how she's feeling right now.
I can't even imagine how Orla's parents feel.
She wasn't the nicest, not even by a mile, but someone out there must have cared for her. They might have even broadcast our reactions to her death, just to torment them. I suddenly feel overwhelming shame. Losing your kid might be the worst thing a parent can experience, but having other people sigh in relief... it's disgusting.
And now she's dead, so it all doesn't matter. And Andy, who made jokes about himself just yesterday on stage, is dead too.
Bex must sense my distress because she shuffles closer and puts an arm around me.
Next, is Geoff from District 9. He looks so confident and easy-going in his picture, and Roizer inhales sharply by my side.
"He was… stronger. Than me. And he's d-dead," he states simply, looking incredibly confused. His hands make fists at his sides.
I know the feeling.
It just all doesn't seem real.
Geoff is replaced by Aderyn from District 10. Another surprise, and I'm left gawking at her picture. She isn't smiling, her face drawn into a scowl of pure concentration and defiance.
That's four kids, gone. And I know who's the fifth one.
Tyree appears in the sky, his eyes looking somewhere to the left. We saw that happen right in front of us, and it's still not something I can process.
And then it's over, just like that. Replaced by a blackened sky.
The rides resume their music and twirl. Bex looks down, smiling a little bit.
It feels wrong and inappropriate, after what we just witnessed. But there's no point in wallowing in self-pity and sadness, Pulse told me that even though he looks awfully depressed sometimes. Actions always speak louder than words, and there's no words that can make this right. But I can try to do right by the people I care about in my vicinity and that's Bex and Roizer. Scout, who is lost somewhere in the dark.
"He's alive," Bex says at the park defiantly, and she's truly back. "We sleep and then we go find our kid."
As though she never even doubted it in the first place.
Logan Arteficavitch
District 7 Male, 15
"Who was t-that?"
I shrug at the question, unable to muster any strength to respond. Ever since this morning, my throat has felt like it has closed in on itself, only allowing tiny bursts of air through so as to keep me from collapsing unconscious.
No one followed us into the woods to our knowledge, and that had seemed like a sensible choice. In retrospect, as the darkness set and it felt like the trees were wrapping their uninviting branches around us in some twisted version of an embrace, I want nothing more than to get out of here.
Poisonous wolf's bane creeps around the roots like a snake, while the trees judge us silently like towering sentries, blotting out any possible remaining light. Risking the Careers at the Cornucopia still sounds better than spending the night here.
The hostility of this whole forest rests heavy, in the shape of a mist that is spread on the ground. The branches twist themselves into terrifying shapes, and it's as though the woods are whispering ominously above us.
Plotting.
While I feel like I'm ready to faint from the fear and exhaustion, Jean's anxiety seems to have dialed up to a thousand. He paces in front of me for what feels like hours, with a pointy stick in front of him. His eyes have acquired a crazed look, and his movements are jerky.
I just want to tell him to stop. It's pointless, all of it.
We've cried ourselves dry and there's nothing left but to sleep on the cold bumpy ground, with roots digging themselves painfully into our spines. But I know Jean won't sleep.
We just heard the anthem, and it cemented the fact that our friend was dead. Geoff was laughing and breathing and reassuring us yesterday… and now he's gone, and I don't know how to live with that. And the fact that we couldn't even properly see him… the sky mostly blocked out by the thick foliage... it just made it worse somehow.
I just don't know… it doesn't feel real or fitting… or fair.
I honestly couldn't believe it, and until the very last second before we saw the disjointed logo of District 9's insignia, Geoff's eyes half-obscured by leaves as he appeared beaming in the sky, I think both Jean and I were hoping that this was all a very sick joke.
That we both violently hallucinated the events that had transpired, and that his neck hadn't been slit open in front of us, as we escaped with nothing but the clothes on our backs.
I shiver, bringing my arms around me for warmth. We don't even have a sleeping bag. We don't have our friend to guide us. We're lost and scared.
The thoughts keep racing through my mind that we should have just gone after him. Maybe three of us against one Career…. it would have been enough to save him.
Maybe if I had gone into the bloodbath, I would have been faster.
We all knew I was a better runner than Geoff, so why didn't I go?
And that horrifying moment, when he hit the girl from Ten. I know it was an accident. I saw his face. I saw how much it ruined him, in his last seconds of life.
There are so many factors that my brain can't seem to reconcile, and it just keeps replaying them in stark detail as though it's a film I can't escape. It's giving me a headache and seeping me of my energy.
But Jean keeps pacing.
He hasn't stopped goddamn pacing, as though that's going to resolve anything at all.
We haven't even spoken about Geoff's death. We just cried together until the sun came down. Sometimes, there are just no words to explain how scared you are.
It's like this whole place is poison, slowly suffocating us. Some pale barely visible mushrooms erupt near tree-trunks, like pale fingers reaching up from the ground. I brush my hand against the ground, my fingers catching on larkspur flowers which pepper the misty ground. It's the only splash of intense violet color in this darkness.
We don't even have a fire going and the small flowers almost seem to be glistening…
Something stirs beyond the branches that splay out like the limbs of the dead. Like the tributes who died this morning…
It almost sounds like a rattle.
"F-Fuck Logan, I definitely heard it this time, there's something around us," Jean whimpers, approaching me. I run my hands nervously over the moss. I heard it too, but I don't want to enable him, so I keep my mouth shut for the time being.
My eyes run nervously over the misshapen thick tree trunks around us, and my blood freezes over when I see what I think are a pair of glowing eyes. They disappear almost as soon as I look at them, but I'm rooted to the spot.
After a few seconds, I get up slowly, putting myself into a pathetic mimicry of a fighting stance next to Jean. My entire body is shaking. I don't even have a weapon, and I have no doubt that in the case of an attack, we're going to lose.
"It's… it's probably nothing," I gulp finally, trying to stop my mind from going to the most irrational conclusions. I become very aware of how close we're standing, and how Jean grabs my arm with intensity.
Beep.
The electronic noise, so out of the place in this complete wilderness, makes us both tumble forward. Jean screams, shrill and terrified and I bite my tongue, drawing blood. It tastes coppery and salty and I resist the urge to spit.
Beep beep.
One small parachute descends slowly, in front of us.
First to action, I rush to it, unwrapping it desperately. My fingers fight clumsily with the fabric and strings in my attempts to get to our sponsor gift. The small blue flowers everywhere glow ominously in the complete darkness as something cylindrical falls into my hand. I fumble with the button, bathing Jean in a ghastly light.
"SHIT!"
I saunter back in surprise, dropping the flashlight I just received, and the shadows around us jump as if possessed. As if on cue, a tortured whine sliced through the heavy air in the forest.
SHIT. If someone or something has not been clued in on the fact that there's two perfectly edible tributes in the forest, then now they definitely are. Whatever is out there will be coming for us, and it's going to be coming fast….
A scurrying noise makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I know Jean hears it too. My blood turns cold and my heart seizes. I just want to close my eyes and wish myself somewhere else.
This time, Jean scrambles like a madman to the flashlight, clicking desperately on the button to turn it off as I'm rooted to the spot I'm standing.
"Fuck… fucking fuck," he swears bitterly as the steady bright stream turns into strobing lights, blinking in and out. "Stop goddamn… flashing!"
Something clearly skirts at the edge of my vision, and any previous exhaustion and grief I could have felt is replaced by pure panic.
"Jean..." I whisper cautiously. He keeps cursing under his breath as he finally switches it off. The drumming of my heart is frantic and irregular.
Thump thump thump thump.
Stuck in darkness once again.
We are standing back to back now, and as though intentional, mist tendrils coil around us like serpents. I can't even see my own feet, as I squint hard to detect any kind of movement.
Complete silence.
I honestly don't know how long we stand there, paralyzed completely by the dehumanizing fear. It could be minutes, it could be hours.
And that's when we hear it, and it's definitely real this time around.
It sounds distinctly animal, with a hint of agonized human shrieking in its guttural undertones.
A bloodcurdling roar.
Scout Trinian
District 4 Male, 13
It was too good to be true, and I should have known it.
I sniffle into the makeshift pillow I made for myself. It's soft and comforting, but the hard-wooden floor hurts my bones. I want to find my allies so badly that I feel like my heart is about to explode.
The draft causes the window shutters to clank together, causing me to paw blindly at my side. I bring up a small luminescent ball to my face, whipping around wildly to check for any hiding enemies.
Of course, there's none. I made sure to check. But the small light offers little to stop me from worrying. At least it's dim enough so as to not attract attention, due to the number of lightbulbs strung outside.
The wind keeps howling through the open window, and I stare accusingly at nothing in particular.
I might be young, but I'm not stupid… I saw how the Gamemakers put me right next to the most dangerous Careers. I was the cannon fodder of our alliance. Remembering that sends another wave of despair wracking my body.
They failed once, but they won't next time… they'll make sure the odds aren't in my favour until I make some awful mistake or give up, and then it's over. The Capitol won't even blink an eye, and my mom will have to watch as I die all alone, even though I promised her I'd find some friends to protect me.
My eyes fill with tears.
Everyone told me this was fair… Mags said it was going to be fair!
But it's so clear to me that I was supposed to be a bloodbath death.
I… I wasn't even allowed to have a chance. And staring at those faces during the anthem, thinking about how it was supposed to be me up there…
I threw up twice just thinking about it in the last half an hour.
On the bright side… and it's hard to think positively right now, but my allies know I'm still alright, since their faces weren't in the sky. I lost them in the confusion, when Bex fell.
I panicked.
I didn't even wait for her to get back up… my feet just propelled me further and further away from the carnage. I didn't stick around to watch and I spent the whole day thinking she died trying to get to me.
My vision blurs once again with tears at the memory, as if I'm looking through a fish-eye lens, but I push down the rising bile in my throat.
That didn't happen.
I escaped and so did my allies and that's what's important, right?
A small sneaky evil voice reminds me that Bex might be very injured, at the brink of death, but I push that down too. No.
I'm still here. I'm scared, but I'm alive and I didn't get hurt. I found my way into the park by scaling the fence on the right side a few kilometers down.
Didn't even need to go through the turnstiles!
Those are the few facts I know right now and that's pretty good.
Good. I say it out loud, making sure to keep my voice quiet. It reassures me, somehow.
I assess my surroundings again, eyeing warily the large chimpanzee stuffed toy. It smiles creepily at me in the darkness, to the point of making me uncomfortable.
All of the plushies here are huge stuffed animals, and I guess I'm holed up in one of the toy shops. It was kind of cute when the lights were on, but I just don't like the way their eyes all seem to be directed at me, now.
I can't even explain it… It didn't bother me too much, but now that I've noticed it, I can't stop thinking about it.
I twist and turn on the floor.
There's little sheep on the walls, and wolves. At first, it's adorable, but just like the toys, the more I stare at the decorated walls in silence, the pointier the wolves' teeth seem to get. Their red tongues sliding out of their maws, towards the helpless sheep…
Another draft of wind causes me to jump up. And that's when I hear the voices.
"-gonna have to stop eventually, you know…"
Curiosity getting the best of me, I creep to the window, first propping my fingers on the windowsill and then slowly inching myself upward to see, without attracting any attention with sudden movement.
"Yeah, I know, but we gotta do this. Or Ambrox will be pissed."
A pair of tall dark-haired girls come to a stop at the intersection just beyond my hideout.
My blood feels like it freezes inside of me.
It's two Careers. My eyes quickly dodge side to side, scanning the area. Are there more?
The one with the long hair circles the intersection, her eyes following the set of windows. Her mouth is set in a grim line, all focus and concentration. A sword gleams in her hand.
She's not the one who hurt Bex, but they're both with the guy who did…
I remember the sound Bex made, as she fell down. It was half-surprise, half-pain and it was awful… I can imagine this sword doing that to me, but I wouldn't be able to survive it because I'm just not as strong...
I want to close my eyes, but I can't. I don't move, I don't even blink, fearful to cause any movement that would cause them to investigate.
Did they follow me here?
"Hey, Seeva, I was meaning to ask you… we all tried prying and I know it's…" she trails off, and then says something I don't quite catch.
I lean forward imperceptibly.
"… are you alright? You seem off."
The other girl, Seeva, has her back to me. I don't make out what she responds because her quiet words are carried off with the wind.
Her ally approaches her and clasps her by the shoulder.
And her back is to my window, finally!
Now is the time to act. I don't wait to hear what she says as I quietly set off to tiptoe on the wooden floor.
Back in District 4, the drastic changes in humidity always caused our house to creak and groan under our footsteps. When I was much younger, I'd annoy my mom with it, but after a while, I made it a game to sneak around by making the least amount of sound possible.
It turns out memorizing every board wasn't even that hard, and before long I could sneak almost as silently as Trinity does now. And I'm much bigger than a rat…
My mom always used to say that this was a way for the house to complain about its sore joints or something. I didn't really understand, but picturing it in my head always made me laugh and I think that's why she said it.
I really don't need this toy house complaining about me right now…
Because if it starts complaining, the Careers will know.
And I'll be dead.
I close my eyes, exhale slowly and feel out the surface in front of me with my toes, very lightly. I try to imagine myself as small and stealthy as Trinity, with her tiny little paws hitting the ground soundlessly.
There's a certain feeling to a board, when it's about to squeak, you see… you just need to kind of feel it out first.
Breathe in… step.
Breathe out… step. No squeak yet. Good.
I keep inching slowly towards the door.
Just a few more steps.
Straining my ears I pause my progress, but the voices of the two girls seem further away. I still can't disregard the possibility of another Career lagging behind but…
I'll have to take my chances.
They're probably scouting the area tonight, and will report back at the Cornucopia in an hour or two, once they hit the outskirts of the park.
Since I basically climbed into the park from the back, I passed a bunch of creepy cages on my way here. All empty. One of them looked like it was torn through, its bars twisted and bending in odd directions. Not much lighting in that part of the park.
It gave me the creeps, but I just ignored it and ran through that part as quickly as I could, the burn in my calves just making me go faster.
The two girls will probably reach these cages soon, and then shortly, the end of the park. So, I don't have that much time to make a run for it and find a good place to hide where they won't bother checking again, on their way back.
So… what do I have to do?
Number one: I gotta go fast. Even if they see me, they might not catch me.
Number two: I need to make sure to head in the opposite direction, towards the large metallic wheel. It stands proud and intimidating at the very center of the park. I saw it as I sped on the grass around the fence.
Number three: once I pass it, I'll probably be around the area my allies probably stopped at. That's the end goal.
With a concrete plan in mind, I reach for the door and open it inch by inch, to avoid any noise that would alert anyone in the vicinity. I bite my lip, pouring all of my efforts into not making a single sound.
The large chimpanzee toy at the other end of the room is somehow still staring directly at me. Again.
I muster the courage to stick my tongue at it, before bolting as fast as I can out of the small toy store. Instinctively, I speed into the small alley to the right, and then realize my mistake.
No, left. I need to go left.
Away from the Careers, towards my allies.
Stupid Scout, stick to the plan!
I take my bearings, and instead of taking the main large alley, I weave through small backroads only fit for one person. I don't stop jogging, trying to orient myself with the wheel. The small alleyways twist and turn, and at every intersection, I need to slow my feet and peer out cautiously, to make sure I don't bump into another tribute who thought it would be a good idea to go on a late-night stroll.
It feels like every time I slow to a stop, my brain is going to explode from the stress, but somehow I make it past the Ferris wheel without seeing anyone.
No voices either, and I smile contently. I do a full turn.
Only small shacks all around me, with silly toys hanging from their ceilings. The lights are more dimmed in this part of the park, and it's kind-of nice. No weird shadows, which is comforting.
I could probably just find a cozy one to hide in, until morn-
Crack.
Pain explodes on the left side of my head, and for a second, I can only see stars. The next thing I know, I am sprawled on the ground. Through my blurry vision, I can discern a small figure scurrying back onto the porch of a cowboy-themed saloon shack.
"Get away! I'm going to kill you if you move!"
I rub at my injured head, getting up quickly. I yelp in surprise as I squint trying to make out the person in front of me through the piercing pain.
Their arm… her arm is shaking, but the determination in her eyes makes her scary enough that I raise my hands up in fear.
"Not a step closer!"
Her voice is high-pitched and trembling, and she's only half and inch taller than I am. But I still shrink away from the dangerous-looking weapon she is pointing directly at me.
In front of me, wielding a comically large red rifle, is Mona Tillery.
Notes: Hey guys! Winding down from the bloodbath, we touch base with some of the kids we didn't get to hear from. Hope you enjoyed this calmer chapter, and definitely let me know what you think! Question of the day: What or who do you think is terrorizing the boys in the woods? Special thanks to Author of Ice and Fire for the constant reviews, honestly, it's people like you that get me excited about posting my chapters, thank you a million times over.
I actually decided I'm not going to write character eulogies until later (because of reasons) so unless you really want one ASAP in the notes, I think I've got something a little more creative in store ! I'll try to have the next chapter up sooner rather than later, but things are picking up a little at work (as in, working from home is no longer the snooze fest it was, so hurray for that).
I hope you all are staying healthy and practicing some good social distancing!
Peace and love.