Chapter 18: Second Day

Haymitch Abernathy

I don't know how long I sleep for, only that it's morning when three cannons sound, within minutes of each other, awakening me with a cry.

Not having had the thought to tie myself in a tree the night before, I fall out, landing hardly on my stomach, my pack crushing me. The pack feels heavier than before and seems to crush my chest, restricting my oxygen.

The cannons go off in my ears again and again. Like haunting music.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Without warning, I'm sent back in my nightmares. My father buried under the mines. Me trying to save him. Him dying in front of me. My mom slowly retreating into her own mind. Hayden's bony figure looking sadly at my father's spot at the dining table. The small funeral that was held for him. The endless pain and horror.

Now, new thoughts take over and I find myself gasping, choking, trying in vain to breathe. It doesn't work. My heart is slamming in my chest, and I'm curled up in a ball on the grassy floor, my face hidden. Except for my hushed gasps, I'm silent. Even in my panic-stricken state, I'm thankful for that. No need in all of Panem seeing me break down.

Jack comes to my mind. The life leaving his eyes. The axe in his chest. The blood. All that blood. He morphs into Hayden. My little brother lying in front of me, dying slowly and painfully. Everything I've always tried to protect him from, happening to him anyway.

My vision is basically black and I'm only slightly aware of my hands clawing at my chest. I can't help it. It hurts. It hurts so bad that, for a few muddled moments, I actually think I'm dying. Would that be so bad? Not dying in a fight, not saving another tribute. Just lying here in a little ball.

I want to give up. Everything hurts and is too overwhelming. It's too much.

But then I remember the reason I'm still going. The reason I have to win. Hayden. I'd do anything, endure everything, to keep him alive and well. Jack may be dead but my brother is still alive. He's still out there, waiting for me to come home.

The knowledge that Hayden is probably watching me right now makes me want to spring back up into my tree like nothing happened. I try but I don't get any further than moving an inch before I remember my problem. I still can't breathe.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I force myself to calm down. I've done this before, because of course this very same thing has happened before. I remember the countless hours I'd spend locked up in my room, gasping and choking and crying. Then, forcing myself to breathe. Because how could I go to pieces? I couldn't afford to. I had my mom and my baby brother depending on me. They needed me. And I couldn't let them down.

Especially not now.

I make myself remember how I calmed myself then but I draw up a blank. It wasn't as though I had a specific strategy. Just force myself to move on. I'm at a loss of what to do and I can feel the panic slowly starting up again. My fingernails dig into my palms.

Then, I remember two things at once. The first being the day before the interviews. Me freaking myself out by overthinking Reynald's words about being blown up. Maysilee had helped me out that day when I had freaked out. We had talked, which usually would have not helped at all, but for some reason, talking about my family grounded me in a way that helped me calm down.

My second memory comes full force, sending me back into the very day it happened.

Hayden is finally asleep. For more than a few hours anyway. His body must have collapsed from pure exhaustion.

I tuck in our only blanket around his sleeping form, wishing I could protect him from our new reality.

But I can't. And I know that.

I pass my mother's room on the way downstairs. She's sitting at the edge of her bed, staring out in front of her. It's what she's been doing for the past week. Ever since we found out that—

I look down quickly, my hands tremble at my sides. No, I won't think about that. I can't. I know if I think about my father for even a moment, I'll go to pieces the same way Hayden and my mom have.

And I can't afford to do that. They both need me now.

"Darling."

My head shoots up. My mother has changed her position and is walking towards me. I freeze. She stops just a foot or so away from me.

"Darling," she breathes. The first sound I've heard her make this whole week. This first sound she's made since she screamed after learning that her husband was killed.

My breath hitches in my throat. "Mom," I say, my voice wavering. "Are you okay? Can I get you something?"

Her hand moves towards me and, for some reason, I flinch. She doesn't notice. There's a dreamy-like smile on her face and her eyes are almost glazed over.

"You're home," she sighs. "They all said you had died. While at work. It's crazy, isn't it? I didn't believe them. And now you're back. I missed you so much."

Her tone sounds like she's talking in her sleep. But that isn't what makes me freeze. Or makes the air leaves my lungs and my legs shake. It's that she thinks she's talking to her husband.

She thinks I'm my dad.

I stumble backwards, stopping just shy of the stairs. My mom frowns softly. "I've missed you." She mumbles. "You don't want to see me?"

I've realize that she must be sleep-walking, but it doesn't stop me from shaking. "I'm not—" I choke out, gasping. "I'm not him. I'm not Dad."

Her eyes droop closed but there's still a slight frown etched on her face. 'What are you talking about? You're right here."

A wave of emotions crash into me, so intense that even I don't know what I'm feeling. All I know is that I can't bear to look at my mother anymore. I can't hear her talk to my dad like he's still alive. I can't take it.

She takes a step forward and, in attempt to stop whatever her next words are, I shout, "Stop! Dad's dead. He's dead and he's not ever coming back. Pull yourself together!"

My mother stops dead and I struggle to catch my breath. Even though it's winter, I feel flashes of heat ripping through me. My head swims and I'm faintly surprised that I'm still on my feet.

A million expressions appear on my mom's face but finally she just turns around, heading back into her room. She settles herself on a chair and continues her staring.

I think I may be sick.

"Haymitch?" A sleepy voice mumbles. "What's going on?"

Hayden is standing just outside his room, frowning at me.

"Nothing." I fight to keep my voice even. "Go back to sleep, Hayden."

I manage to keep a fake smile on my face until my baby brother disappears back into his room.

Then, I'm a shaking, gasping mess. I feel as though the room is closing in on me, sucking all the air out as it goes. My legs shake and then I'm stumbling down the stairs, desperate to leave the house.

I stagger outside, the cold winds actually welcome for once. I fall to my knees in the snow, trying to breathe in the crisp winter air.

It doesn't work.

Silent tears are streaming down my face. My heart thuds quickly in my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly but then all I see is images of my dad behind my eyelids.

I briefly wonder if I'm going crazy. I wouldn't be surprised.

The cold slowly seeps through my ripped pants and I force my eyes open. The only other people outside are two frail-looking kids. Just two of the many orphans that inhabit the streets of the Seam. They look at me with wide eyes. I want to help them, I really do. But I have no way to. I can't even help myself.

Unable to bear it, I find myself running, stumbling really, away from my house. I don't even know where I'm going. I just need to get away from it all.

I stagger through the cold for a couple of minutes before falling to the ground.

"Hello?" A soft voice, a girl's, sounds from somewhere beside me. "Excuse me, are you alright?"

Snow gets in my eyes as I blink up at the girl talking to me. I recognize the face quickly. It's Serena, a girl in my class at school.

"Haymitch? Oh, Haymitch, come inside. You must be freezing."

She places her hands firmly on my shoulders and I flinch away from the touch of this girl who I hardly know. Her arms are firm as she walks me up to a house and brings me inside.

I collapse onto the floor and she barely catches me. "Haymitch? What's wrong? What are you doing?"

Usually, I wouldn't have talked to a kid in my class who I barely knew. I didn't talk much at school, preferring to stay by myself. But Serena was the kind of person who was friendly with everyone. The bright light all the teachers adored.

"Haymitch?" She asked again. "Are you alright?"

I barely managed to shake my head.

I could almost hear the frown in her voice. "Is this about your dad? I'm so sorry—"

"No," I gasp. "Don't. I can't—I can't think about that. Please—"

She makes a soft noise of realization. A second later, a warm mug is being placed in my hand. When the tea inside starts to spill because of my shaking hands, she removes it and places it on the floor beside me.

Her arm wraps around my shoulders and I don't flinch. She rubs my back. "You're okay, I promise. Come on, Haymitch. Breathe with me, you can do it. It'll be alright."

My eyes snap open as the memory fades away. I hadn't even realized that I had them closed. I take a slow, deep breath, remembering the way a twelve-year-old Serena had calmed me down that day. We became quick friends after that and I visited her house every week. She always knew whenever I was feeling down and when to give me space. But she also knew how to make me smile when no one else could.

In return, I helped her as well. When kids in our class started to bully her, I quickly got them to back off. Two years ago, when her mother had lost the baby girl she was carrying, I had held her as she sobbed in my arms. That was the day that we first kissed. We both knew that fourteen was a little young, but it couldn't be helped. We grew even closer a year ago, after her parents suffered heart attacks within a week of each other. I went with her to their small joint funeral and helped her move her stuff into her aunt's home soon after. My mom probably would have preferred for me to not be so romantically involved from such a young age. However, in a world where the Games existed, time was never ever taken for granted.

My hands stop shaking and I slowly feel my breath coming back to me. I stumble a little as I stand, stretching out my muscles from my fall, which feels as though it happened years ago.

I have no idea how long I'd been lying on the floor for. Ten minutes? Half an hour? An hour? It felt like half a second and an eternity all at the same time.

I'm angry at myself. How could I go to pieces like that? I know that the combination of Jack's death, me watching it, and those cannons just a while ago must have triggered me somehow, turning me into a shaking mess.

The sun is shining brightly in the sky and I guess it to be about midday. Maybe those three cannons had happened just ten or so minutes ago. I really have no way of figuring out. It doesn't really matter but a part of me wants to know the exact details of everything going on.

I figure that it'd be best to stay where I am for now. There's no point in venturing around for no reason. I have everything I need. Running into another tribute is the last thing I need right now.

It's only when I move towards the tree I slept in last night that I remember my injuries from yesterday. My left leg gives out and I stumble, falling hard against the tree's trunk.

I grimace, sliding down to look at my thigh. The fabric is ripped where those knives dug into it. There's a lot of dried blood but it doesn't seem life-threatening. Just very inconvenient.

I assess the rest of my body. My hand is fully healed from that butterfly's sting, which is lucky. My shoulder aches but shouldn't be too much of an issue. There's a shallow but fairly long cut on my right arm and a smaller cut on my left wrist. Neither are bleeding, which I take as a good sign.

My leg is the only worrying issue. It throbs dully as I climb back up my tree and I frown, wishing Reynald could send something to heal it. I briefly wonder if he's helping us like I thought he would. Maybe he's helping Maysilee and William. He did seem to like them more than he liked me. Even after all the talks we had.

It's only when I decide to double check my pack that I realize I have a much bigger issue to deal with. I curse as I double check the pack, opening all the pockets and taking things out to count. I dump everything onto my lap, staring at the stuff I find remaining.

At least half of the contents, mostly the food, have disappeared.

Maysilee Donner

Miller hasn't stopped screaming. It started up again only a few minutes after Mazie's hovercraft left the arena. It isn't loud screaming. It's more wailing and choked out cries. But still, it's loud enough that it remains a miracle that no one has found us yet.

Ana groans, "Is there no way to make him be quiet?"

I frown. Ana has been acting more and more annoyed since the Games started. At first I'm suspicious but then I shake my head. We're all under stress and our group is slowly being killed off. It makes sense for her to be on edge.

I hear William behind me, checking to make sure no one else is following us. "He doesn't even hear us, Ana." His tone sounds defeated. "I don't think we can do anything to help him."

"He's gone mad." She sounds cross.

"He's traumatized," I say as William turns back around. "That's all."

Miller doesn't show any sign that he realizes we're talking about him. He's rocking on the floor, hands over his ears. His wails have thinned out but still manage to pierce my heart.

I sigh. "He must be in so much pain."

William agrees. "Poor Mazie."

Even Ana can't stay mad while we're talking about our fallen ally. "She was so young."

I feel tears work their way up to my eyes and quickly wipe them away. William notices anyway and leans down to kiss my cheek. I give him a watery smile.

"Hold on," Ana brings her hands up. "When did all this," she waves her hands in front of my face, "happen?"

William's cheeks turn pink. "Last night," he mumbles.

She smiles sadly. "I should have guessed it. You two are awfully cute together."

Me and William exchange a look. Probably because we are both painfully aware that we both can't make it out of here. Miller is our living proof of that.

"So, what are you guys now?" Ana asks. "Boyfriend and girlfriend? Were you guys dating before the Games or something?"

It's my turn to blush. "Well, I had a crush on him since forever and—"

Miller's wails suddenly cut off and the three of us whip around, weapons flying into our hands. But he's unharmed, looking up at us with wide eyes.

"What was that?" William says, bewildered. "Why'd he stop?"

I scan our surroundings and, when I see nothing, shake my head in confusion. "Maybe he's tired himself out. Or he could've just stopped for no reason. We don't have a way of knowing what he's thinking."

"I guess it's a good thing," Ana says. "Now we don't have to worry about some other tributes finding us because he's so loud."

"What should we do now?"

Ana shrugs. "Keep heading for the mountain? We can set up camp when we find a good spot."

We organize our stuff first. We split up the food, water, and supplies equally into all our packs, just in case we get separated. Me and William split up Miller's knives, knowing they'll be more useful with us then with him.

It takes a good ten minutes to get Miller to stand. William keeps a tight grip on the older boy's wrist as we head for the mountain. I know we'll be able to reach it before the end of the day and find myself excited to have a permanent camp. It means more rest and less of a chance of running into other tributes. With our group the way it is, we need all the peace we can get.

My blow gun remains by my side as we walk and I notice that Ana has her knives tightly gripped as well. William carries the long dagger that the boy from District 5 had thrown into Miller's pack this morning. His other hand holds Miller even as the other boy tries to veer off track, humming under his breath. We're all aware that we could be attacked at any given moment.

I try not to think about Mazie and Leila, both of whom had such awful, premature deaths. It's so unfair that they will never get to live another day. Never smile or laugh again.

"You okay?" William's voice whispers into my ear. His face is etched with concern.

"I'm fine," I say, wishing that the two of us could be alone. "Just thinking about the girls."

William knows who I'm talking about, even understanding my reluctancy to say their names. "I'll miss them."

I look at the hair ribbon that Miller holds onto desperately. "Me too."

Miller seems to sense my gaze and looks up at me, the corners of his mouth twitching. Almost like he wants to say something but isn't quite sure how to get it out.

I frown and nudge William. "Do you think he'll get better?" I whisper, nodding at Miller.

William sighs. "I don't know. I want to say yes but I really don't think so." His voice trails off. "It's not fair for him to have had to see that."

"It's not fair that it had to happen at all," I say bitterly, keeping my voice quiet. I know that that isn't something the Capitol would be happy to hear me say.

Ana, who had been walking ahead of us, backtracks to stand beside me. "He hasn't spoken yet, has he?"

We all look over at Miller. He's twisting the ribbon in his hands and whispering under his breath furiously. His eyes are unfocused and I wonder if he's even aware that he's walking with us.

"No," William says. "It's either screaming or muttering I can't understand."

I go over to Miller's other side and put my head near his. Ana and William give me confused looks but I put a finger to my lips, motioning for them to be quiet. I try and listen to what Miller is saying. I want to know what is going through his mind.

"Run. Run. Run. Monsters coming for your head. Run. Run. Run. Monsters coming for my head. Run. Run. Run. Soon, we'll all be dead."

I shiver.

"What is it?" Ana demands. "What's he saying?"

I shake my head. "It sounds like a chant almost." I repeat Miller's words to them and watch as a look of horror passes William's face.

"That's awful," he says sadly. "Poor Miller."

"What do you think Miller would want us to do?" Ana says, her voice makes it clear that she's given this question some thought.

William's confused tone matches my thoughts. "What do you mean?"

"Like if we asked Miller yesterday what he'd want us to do if he went crazy, what do you think he would've said?"

We exchange a glance. "I don't know," I say. "He'd probably want to know why we thought he'd be going crazy any time soon."

"And knowing him," William says, "he'd want us to help Mazie. If he didn't know that she would be dead."

"That's just it," Ana frowns. "He'd want us to help Mazie, and help ourselves too. And keeping him with us isn't really helping us right now."

There's a brief moment of silence as me and William understand what Ana means.

"You don't mean we just abandon him, do you?" William asks slowly.

Ana flushes, a fire coming to her eyes. "He'd want us to have a chance at winning. If neither him or Mazie could win."

"We're not leaving him," I say firmly and William nods. "He'd never do that to us."

The fire is gone just as quickly. "Of course," she says, looking down. "I don't know what I was thinking. We can't leave him alone. I'm sorry. I should have never even thought of that..."

There's the Ana I've grown used to.

"It's alright," William says, patting her shoulder. "I know we're all just getting stressed out right now, since so many of us are dying so quickly. We get why you would've thought about that." I secretly wonder if we really do understand. But I agree with William, too many of us are dying too quickly.

We continue heading for the mountain and it's a good minute before I wonder something. "How many of us are left?"

William starts counting on his hand. "Well, there was 20 yesterday, including Leila—" his voice catches and he swallows hard. "And today there was the boy from 3, the girl from 7, and Mazie." His voice hitches again slightly and he sighs.

I'm about to move to comfort him when a wail cuts through the air. Miller, no doubt having been triggered by the sound of his sister's name, has begun to scream again. He crumples to the floor and his hands shoot to cover his ears.

The three of us exchange helpless glances as his screams get louder.

"Miller," I say, crouching down. "It's okay, you're okay."

"The monsters are coming!" Miller shouts and we all jump. These are the first words he's said since Mazie's death. "Run!"

"Don't worry, Miller," William says soothingly, crouching down beside me. "There are no monsters. They're not going to hurt you."

"No! They will! They're coming to chop of our heads!"

"The monsters have gone away already," he says. "They've left a long time ago. We're safe now, I promise."

I'm glad William has two little sisters. It means that he's great at comforting people.

But Miller only looks slightly convinced. He's stopped screaming but he's still trembling. He looks up at William, his eyes dilated with fear. "The monsters have gone away?"

The terror in his voice makes my stomach twist. I think of the boy from yesterday: strong, smart, and ready to protect all of us. Now he's been reduced to a frightened child, who can't even tell what's real and what isn't.

It crushes me.

"Yes," William answers, still using the same quiet voice. "The monsters are gone now. Come with us. They won't be able to find us then."

A million expressions cross Miller's face and, for a moment, I fear that he's going to start screaming again. But instead, he nods, his eyes still feverishly bright, and stands. I notice Mazie's ribbon tied around his wrist tightly like a bracelet. Then, I almost gag when I notice for the first time that one end of the yellow ribbon is spotted with blood. Mazie's blood.

I point it out to William quietly as Miller finds his footing. William shakes his head, knowing that to bring it up could send Miller into another frenzy of screaming and panic.

We start walking again, careful not to mention Mazie's name again.

"Wait, so 23 are dead?" I ask, realizing that we didn't really get to finish our conversation from before.

"Yeah," William agrees. Then he laughs humourlessly. "That must be some sort of record."

Ana frowns. "In a normal year, the victor would have been crowned by now."

We're quiet as it sinks in that the odds are really not in anyone's favour this year.

"Wait." Ana says suddenly. "I heard two cannons last night. After the anthem."

William pauses for a moment, then nods his head. "Right. I'd almost forgotten about that."

"Wait, what?" I ask. "When did that happen? I don't remember."

"You were asleep." Me and William had traded off shifts throughout the night. After grieving Leila's death together, we had both been exhausted. "I didn't want to ruin the mood this morning by mentioning it. Especially since we had gotten that bread."

I flush. Right. The bread. That we got after we kissed.

William seems to notice my blush because his cheeks are tinged pink as well.

Ana glances between us with a small smirk on her face. "Something tells me that there is more to this bread that I'm getting to know about."

William brings the conversation back again. "So, you heard the two cannons as well?"

Ana shrugs. "They woke me up. I wasn't sleeping too well anyway." I know Ana must think that she played a part in Leila's death.

"So, that means 25 are dead," I say slowly. That's more dead in two days now than would be dead during the entirety of a normal Game.

"They're really burning through us," Williams says. No one has to be reminded who they are.

I shake my head. "Not really. 22 more of us still have to die for a victor to be crowned."

We're all quiet after that.

A conversation doesn't start back up again until we hit the base of the mountain. It's evening by then. I know because the sun is much lower in the sky, almost to the point of setting. But the temperature is still the same. Maybe it's even gotten hotter.

I look up at the mountain as William and Ana look for a close yet concealing spot for us to stay.

"Are you guys absolutely sure about us staying here?" I ask, wondering why this mountain makes me so on-edge.

"Yes," Ana says. "What's wrong with it?"

I shrug. "I just have a bad feeling about it, that's all."

William comes to squeeze my hand and drops a kiss on my cheek. "Maysilee, don't worry. This seems like the safest place in the Arena."

"That's just it," I say. "Why would the Gamemakers provide us with somewhere so seemingly safe. Especially since they seem to be trying to kill us off in every other way."

They both frown. "You have a point," Ana says slowly. "But we don't really have another choice. We already came all the way here and I don't think we have enough energy to find a new spot."

She's right. Now that we've stopped walking, I've noticed just how tired I am. And thirsty. I try to get some saliva into my dry mouth. "How much water do we have left?"

"A bottle and a half." William opens his pack. "I hope we get sent water soon. I don't know how long our supply will last."

"Yeah," Ana agrees. "It's not getting any cooler."

"So," I say, scanning the base of the mountain. "Where should we set up?"

"I was thinking somewhere near the middle," William says. "That way we can—Miller, don't touch that!"

I whip around as William lunges towards Miller, who has his hand reached out to a bush. At first, I'm confused. Then, I spot a magenta butterfly fluttering near Miller's hand.

"It's just a butterfly," I start, then jump back with a shriek.

A swarm of butterflies shoot from the bush, heading straight for the four of us. Buzzing fills the air within seconds.

"Run!" I cry, stumbling backwards.

William grabs Miller's hand and yanks him forwards. The four of us sprint as fast as we can, desperate to get away from the butterflies—which I'm sure are the Capitol's mutts—behind us.

Ana is in front of me, leading the way up the mountain. She's running in complicated patterns, no doubt trying to steer the mutts away from us. It's a clever strategy but it means that we are running much more than we need to. And we're all exhausted.

I can hear William and Miller stumbling behind me. Miller lets out a wail and I turn to see him on his knees, William unsuccessfully trying to pull him to his feet. The butterflies have almost reached him.

"What happened?" I yell, running to William's side.

"I don't know." William yanks on Miller's arm. "He won't get up!"

"Did he get stung?"

"I don't think so. Maybe he's scared?"

There's a swarm of pinks and purples as the butterflies descend on the three of us. The buzzing soon fills my ears. I wince and swat my hands around, not wanting to get stung.

The mutts have surrounded us and I distantly hear Miller scream. I try and turn to see him, but stumble, falling oddly to the side. A twinge of pain shoots up my calf.

I hit the ground on all fours, wincing. I watch as all the butterflies head towards the two boys, struggling a few feet away from me. As they surround them, William yells out in shock and leaps backwards, finally yanking Miller to his feet.

I struggle to my feet and grab Miller's other arm, pulling as hard as I can. He stumbles and the three of us start to run again. Ana's stopped for us but when she sees that we're following, she continues to run.

We've just started to follow her when I notice something strange. The buzzing sound softens and then disappears completely. The mutts have retreated.

I'm panting. "What was that all about?"

William bends over, clutching at his side. "Maybe the Gamemakers think we've had it too easy." There's a note of bitterness in his voice.

"Maybe they were hiding there, waiting for someone to find them." Ana says, having come down to stand beside us. "And Miller just triggered a switch or something like that."

"Well, they're gone now," I say, still trying to catch my breath. "Is everyone okay?"

"They didn't get me," Ana shrugs.

"I'm fine too," Williams says, shouldering his pack gingerly. "But I have a wicked cramp." He touches my hair, where it's coming undone, softly. "You're okay, right?"

I smile at his concern. "I'm okay." Another twinge in my leg reminds me of my fall and I grimace. "I think I may have hit my foot weird though."

William's expression turns to one of concern. "How bad is it?"

"Don't worry," I wave him away. "I can walk."

"Here," he pulls my pack from my back. "I'll take your bag."

"Miller," I hear Ana say. "Are you okay?"

I look over and see Miller's back on the ground, his hands clenched into fists.

"Is he hurt?" I ask Ana, examining him closer. I think of all the signs of distress Iris taught me about when we were younger. But he's different now, and I don't know if I can rely on my past knowledge to help him anymore.

"He's still acting crazy. But I don't think he got any new injuries."

William sighs. "That's good." He lends a hand to the other boy. "Come on, Miller. Let's get going."

Miller moves his hands around, gesturing at things that the rest of us can't see. Finally, he stands and takes William's hand.

"So, where should we set up?"

Ana points further up the mountain, somewhere near the middle. "I was thinking over there."

I groan. The mountain is huge and it'd probably take us another half hour to climb up there. Maybe even an hour.

But there's no better plan so we agree and head up the mountain to our new camp.

My foot twinges as we go but I know it's just a strain. Nothing to waste time thinking about. Especially not in the Hunger Games.

The sun is just about setting as we reach our new camp spot. Ana was right. It's a good spot. It's flat and decently big, enough for the four of us at least. We'll be squished but it's better than nothing. Tall shrubs offer some concealment.

"You know," William remarks. "I can't believe we haven't run into anyone yet."

"Don't jinx it," Ana says darkly. "I'm glad no one's here."

"The mountain is pretty huge," I say. "Anyone else on here must be on other parts of it. Lucky for us."

"Do you think we'll get fresh water?" William asks suddenly.

I frown. "Fresh water?" I repeat.

He points to the very top of the mountain and I notice that it's covered in snow. "Snow means water, right? Once it melts anyway."

For a good minute, we're all happy about that bit of news. Until Ana points out that even if there is water up there, it's probably poisonous.

That sobers us up real quick.

"Why does everything in this arena have to be so difficult?" I say crossly, as we put our things down and try to get this place on the mountain to act somewhat as a shelter.

"Because it's the great Quarter Quell," Ana says mockingly. "And the Capitol needs a good show."

"Ana, stop," William hisses. "You know we can't say stuff like that."

She bites her lip. "Sorry, but it's true."

"I know. Just don't say it out here."

Ana sighs. "I know. I'm sorry."

A loud whine interrupts us. The three of us, having finished setting up camp, turn to see Miller digging through one of our packs, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"Miller," I say cautiously. "What are you looking for?"

Miller looks up, shifting restlessly. He points at the packs in a series of movements I don't understand. I look back and see that William and Ana look just as confused.

William shrugs when he meets my gaze. "He seems off. Well, more off than this morning. I think something's bothering him."

"Maybe he's hungry," Ana cuts in. "I'm starving."

She's right. We haven't eaten since this morning. Deciding to worry about Miller later, since he's new behavior probably doesn't mean anything, we eat a dinner of some apple slices and crackers. Not great, but not bad either. We all give in to our thirst and divide a bottle of water between the four of us. I hope we don't regret it later.

We also decide to stay in our little camp for as long as possible. Until we're forced out at least. It's safer that way.

The anthem plays in the sky just as we're finishing up our dinner. I tense automatically, remembering how yesterday we saw Leila's face up there.

"Miller," William says, warning in his voice. "We're going to bed now. Why don't you go and lie down?"

"Oh," I say softly. It's a classic William thought. Remembering that seeing Mazie's face will trigger Miller once again. It's night time now, and more likely that soeone could hear his cries.

The three of us breathe out a sigh of relief when Miller goes to lie down as the anthem fades, snuggling into the small sleeping bag from William's pack.

I look at William. "Good thinking."

His eyes are trained on the sky, his body tense in anticipation, and doesn't reply.

It turns out, William and Ana were right earlier. Two deaths must have happened last night, after the anthem. Because, sure enough, there are 5 faces in the sky tonight.

The first is one of the girls from District 2. Ana gasps in shock. Another Career down. I wonder who killed her. Her dark eyes seem to pierce through the night. The next is the boy from District 3, the one who beheaded Mazie. I feel slightly guilty when I realize that I'm not too sad to see his face up there.

I wince when the girl from District 7 light up the sky. My first kill. William's arm wraps around my shoulders.

"It's okay," he whispers. "You saved my life. You had to do it." I lean into him, letting him comfort me.

The next face is that of a young boy, also from District 7. My heart drops to see such a young face shining in the sky, knowing he's dead now. He looks familiar for some reason. He and the girl from District 2 must have been the ones to die yesterday.

We all glance at Miller when Mazie's face lights up last, her red hair shimmering like fire. He's still asleep.

I look at the girl on the screen. Did Mazie think she would die in such a horrible way? And that it would impact her brother in such a terrible way. My eyes burn as I let it sink in that I'll never hear her laugh again, never see her smile at Miller. She and Leila are gone now, being shipped back to their families in a wooden box.

The three of us are silent as Mazie's face fades away, leaving us in pitch darkness.

Finally, Ana speaks. "You guys sleep. I'll take watch tonight."

William starts to protest but Ana insists. "You both took watch last night."

"Okay," I say. "Thanks, Ana."

I can almost hear the sad smile in her voice. "Goodnight, Maysilee. Goodnight, William."

"Goodnight, Ana."

Me and William take one of Ana's large blankets, giving her the other, and lie down together. At first, I'm embarrassed at the thought of sleeping under the same blanket as a boy, but I get over it quickly. It's to keep warm, I convince myself. Besides, it's not like we're going to do anything.

William's hand grips mine under the soft blanket. He's so close I can see his blond eyelashes, soft against his face.

"Goodnight, Maysilee." His lips brush against my forehead. "Sweet dreams."

Despite everything, I smile. "Sweet dreams, William."

Ugh, it seems to be becoming a habit to update every three weeks. I have some part of chapter 19 already written so hopefully, it'll be out sooner.

Hope you guys aren't getting tired of all the breakdowns instead of action. I'm trying to get a good mix of the both because I've noticed that most fics I've read usually just focus on the fighting in the Games and not the impact that it had on everyone. And I really wanted to include some Serena and Haymitch in here. Also, if anyone is wondering why I made Haymitch so much like Katniss, I'm not trying to copy her character, the similarities are important for the end of this fic, especially for the epilogue. I guess you guys will have to wait and see :)

And also, yes Haymitch is snarky and arrogant, it just isn't his whole character. He puts on different faces for different people and usually, it's an arrogant one. But I didn't want that to be his whole character.