Chapter 22: Persevere
Maysilee Donner
As I watch the sun start to rise over the Arena, I can't help but shiver.
Yesterday had been a terrible day. Ana's betrayal, William almost dying, me killing my former ally...
It's been getting more and more humid in the Arena but even with the sun's rays getting in my eyes, all I feel is cold.
I remember being seven and waking up every Saturday at sunrise so Maylene and I could help my parents with the sweets. After that, we would go play at Iris's house until lunch, where our two families would join and share a meal. Saturdays have always been my favourite day of the week.
Today's Saturday. At least, I think it is. I haven't bothered to keep track. I wonder if Maylene is making candy right now. I had always been more interested in the recipes than she had. I loved the process of creating something delicious from nothing. Maylene was our shop's taste-tester, more interesting in sampling the candy than helping out. She always knew which ones people would like the best. The ones that would make people smile with happiness.
A soft snore brings my attention to the boy sleeping with his head in my lap. William. My heart clenches painfully. His blond eyelashes are fluttering in the slight wind and there's nothing more I'd rather do than kiss his lips this very second. He's everything I've ever wanted and more. I can't bear to think about the fact that both of us are probably going to die.
The gash in his leg fills me with dread. The pieces of cloth I wrapped around it yesterday are crusted over with his dried blood. It's the paleness in William's face that reminds me how much blood he has lost. We need bandages for his leg and we need some sort of medicine. There's no telling how soon his cannon will go without it.
My gaze goes to Miller, who is asleep just a few feet away, curled up in his sleeping bag with his dead sister's hair ribbon tied around his wrist. The sight of his left arm, purple, scabbing, and swollen, makes me want to throw up. It's even worse than it was when Reynald sent us the syringe. He must be wondering why we haven't used his gift yet. But William can't. He can't bear to kill a boy so broken and lost. William is too kind to kill and I know it. And as much as I hate to admit it, even though Miller is obviously in so much pain, I'm not ready to kill again.
It's funny how I've become the leader of this alliance in such a short amount of time.
Not funny. More like terrifying. And so much harder than I can imagine.
I jerk with surprise as William jolts. He's still asleep. His eyes are squeezed shut and his whole body is shaking.
"No, no," he murmurs, his voice tinged with fear. "Please, don't."
"William?" I frown, slightly confused.
His voice gets louder. "No, please, please don't go."
It clicks. He's having a nightmare. My heart breaks for him. He looks so terrified that I want to kiss him senseless until he can't even remember what visited him in his sleep.
I wonder what his nightmare is about.
"William," I say, shaking his shoulder as forcefully as I can without scaring him. "William, wake up."
He starts to thrash and I have to grab his hand before it hits my face.
"No, please!" His voice is so loud I fear that someone will hear us in the quiet of the morning Arena. "Rye, don't go. Come back!"
I draw in a sharp breath.
His brother, of course. His brother was in the Games as well. William watched his brother die on live television. Of course being in the Games would remind him of that.
What would his sisters do if they had to watch both their brothers die in the Games?
William cries out in his sleep once more and it's loud enough to wake up Miller, who stares at us, looking agitated. I hope William's cries don't set him off.
"William!" I shake him as hard as I can. "Wake up. Please, wake up. You're having a nightmare."
The murmurs continue. "No, no, no—"
I slap his face as hard as I can.
I don't know why I do. Maybe it's because I'm terrified that someone will hear us. Or maybe it's because it terrifies me even more to see someone I love in so much pain. Definitely the latter. Seeing William in pain is like seeing Maylene or Iris hurt. It can't happen. It won't. Not if I can do anything to stop it.
William wakes with a gasp. He tumbles off my lap and onto the floor, landing on his knees. He glances around frantically, his eyes wide and terrified.
"William," I say softly, not wanting to frighten him.
His eyes finally land on me and his whole body relaxes. He looks down but not before I see the tears pooling in his eyes. He takes long shallow breaths and I put my hand on his shoulder.
"You're okay, William. It was just a nightmare."
He leans into me but doesn't meet my gaze, instead staring straight ahead. Miller watches us silently and looks as far away as William does.
After a couple of minutes tick by in complete and utter silence, I have to break it.
"Are you okay," I whisper.
William gives a hollow sort of laugh. "Am I okay?" he repeats. Then he sighs, dropping his head into his hands. "I'm not okay, Maysilee." His voice is muffled. "I can't do this. How can they make us do this?"
"Shh," I urge, wrapping my arms around him. The Capitol can't hear him talk like this. "It's okay, it's okay. It was just a nightmare."
When he speaks, his voice sounds broken. "Don't act like you know it won't be a reality for us."
Tears spring to my eyes and I desperately try and blink them away.
William glances at me and I see his face fall at my distress.
He holds my hand and squeezes it reassuringly. "I'm sorry, Maysilee. I shouldn't have been so blunt. It's just—I'm so tired of all of this."
"Me too," I whisper, leaning into him.
He lets the silence wash over us for a few minutes before saying, "I dreamed I was back at home. In 12. And I was watching Rye die again. My sisters were screaming. It was the worst moment of my life."
He says this all with no emotion and that's what makes it so heart-breaking.
"I'm sorry," I say, and I mean it.
"Don't be. It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong. You've made my life the best it could ever be."
This makes me smile for the first time in a long time. "You've made my life the best it could be too."
He moves so he's just in front of my face. I could count every one of those eyelashes if I wanted to.
"I don't want ever want to lose you."
"Me neither."
And I kiss him. Again.
I had wondered what my sister would say if she knew I'd gotten my first kiss before her. Now I wondered what she'd say if she saw that I had gotten many kisses before her. I would never have believed it if someone told me that years ago.
Oh, how the times change.
When we pull away, William is blushing.
"I love you so much," he says. "But I can't believe that all of Panem is watching us kiss."
I giggle and agree. "It's weird."
William's smile drops as his eyes lock on something behind me. "Miller, what are you doing?"
I whip around to see Miller frantically searching through our bags, flinging stuff everywhere. His eyes are wild and agitated looking, a sudden contrast to the way he was watching us with that far away look just a few minutes ago. His arm is now fully purple and scabbed. I push down the bile in my throat.
William scrambles up and makes for Miller but immediately collapses with a sharp cry.
"William!"
He's on his knees and looks up with a grimace. "I'm fine," he gasps. "Just my leg."
I wince at the sight of blood covering his pants. The past half hour made me forget about how bad off the three of us are. "Stay there," I tell him. "Reynald will send us something soon. I'm sure of it."
"What about Miller? We have to help him."
I bite my lip because I know that there is only one way to help Miller now.
And we should have done it two days ago.
Instead I tell William, "I'll help Miller. It won't do us any good if you hurt yourself more."
When I reach out to grab Miller's shoulder, he shrieks. He spins around, abandoning our packs and clasps his hands over his ears.
"No!" he shouts, his voice shrill. "Leave her alone! Mazie!"
The similarities between him and William along with the fact that this happens to so many kids every year makes me despise the Capitol with a passion.
"Miller," I say, making my voice as soothing as possible. "Mazie's safe, don't worry." The lie tastes like sand in my mouth.
Somehow, he hears me through his hands.
"Mazie's safe?" His voice is small, like that of a child.
I force my voice not to waver. "Of course. She's waiting for you. You're going to see her soon."
Somewhere behind me, William makes a strangled noise. But Miller slowly puts down his hands.
His tense form relaxes and he smiles. "I miss her. I want to see her now."
My voice cracks. "You will. Soon, I promise."
Miller's eyes lock on something in a world only he can see. His face goes calm again, his agitation quickly forgotten. He frowns and fingers his swelled arm. "My arm feels funny. It's making me feel funny."
"Don't worry," I say. "Your arm will be alright soon. It's just a funny feeling. It'll go away."
He smiles vaguely. "A funny feeling," he repeats. "It'll go away."
"That's right. Why don't you go sit over there?" I point to where his sleeping bag is. "Why don't you go nap?"
He turns without a word and walks the few feet to his sleeping bag. He doesn't sleep but stares out into the sky.
Such a brilliant person, so easily ruined by the Capitol.
William's face is ashen when I take a seat next to him. "We have to do it, don't we?"
My facade breaks and I will myself not to cry. Again. "We have to. It's the right thing to do."
Miller is only a few feet away and William drops his voice. "But how?"
"I don't know."
"When?"
I take a deep breath and let myself lean on the shoulder of the boy who's helped me so much. "The moment we can bring ourselves to do it."
Maylene Donner
Iris has gone to the kitchen to make us both a cup of tea but I remain in front of the television, my eyes trained on my twin.
Like if I look away for even a second, my eyes will return to find her dead.
And that can't happen.
I gnaw at my fingernail as I watch her lay her head on William McCarthy's shoulder. I remember the endless teasing she had to endure when she told us she had a crush on him. She was far too nervous to tell him how she felt. Now I wish I would have encouraged her more. Maybe they would have had more time together.
I'm glad that she has someone to comfort her in the Arena, seeing as I'm not there with her.
I jolt when Iris taps my shoulder. She sets down two mugs of tea on the table and sits next to me, looking at me with worry etched on her face. That's been happening a lot lately.
The tea is sweet against my tongue. "What kind is it?"
"Chamomile. For your headaches."
My head has been acting weird ever since Maysilee left. Nothing unbearable but unpleasent enough that it bothers me. It's a constant, dull ache that doesn't go away no matter what. Being the apothecary's daughter and a whiz at all things healing, Iris uses trying to help me as a way to get her mind of the Games. She worries about me constantly, which I guess is better than worrying about Maysilee.
I wish I had something to get it off my mind too.
"Thanks," I say. "It tastes good."
She gives me a slight smile before her eyes travel back to the screen, her hand fiddling with the remote.
The moment we get home from school, Iris rushes over to my house so we can watch the Games together. We stay that way, our eyes glues to the screen, until it's time to go to bed. My parents usually join us. My dad has to hold my mother up when she starts to cry.
Since it's a Saturday, both of them are downstairs, in the Donner Sweet Shop. More people have been coming to our shop since Maysilee got Reaped. I'm pretty sure they do it out of pity. Or maybe out of thanks in some twisted way. Because Maysilee being Reaped means that their daughters have been saved.
True to me and Maysilee's usual routine, I had woken up at the crack of dawn to help my parents with the sweets. I did her job this week, helping my parents make the different candies. As I watched her staring out into the open this morning, I couldn't help but wonder if she had been thinking of me.
Because she hasn't left my mind for even a moment.
Iris says my name and I realize that she's called me at least a few times. I've had trouble focusing on anything but my twin since the Games started.
"Yeah?"
She points to the screen. "They look happy together."
Maysilee and William are kissing. This whole morning, they've been trying to get themselves to kill their ally, Miller. I feel bad for him. His mind has gone insane from seeing his sister so brutally murdered and now he's been poisoned. He probably doesn't even know it.
Not that I blame him. If I had to watch Maysilee die in front of me, I don't know what sort of mental state I'd be in.
That's why it can't happen. It just can't. I won't lose my sister.
But Iris is right. The two of them do look happy when they kiss. Even if they are in the middle of an Arena.
To try and stop her constant worrying, I give her the best smile I can muster. "They do. They comfort each other. I like that."
She smiles sadly. "I wish we could have known him better."
Her words make me blurt out what's been on my mind since Maysilee got Reaped. "I want them all to die."
Iris had been turning to look at the screen again but whips her head back around at my bluntness.
I hurry on. "I know it's terrible. But I need Maysilee to live. What will I do if she dies? She's my other half."
When Maysilee got Reaped, I thought I would die. I should have volunteered, I know I should have. But I had been so shocked that I hadn't even remembered that it was an option.
If Maysilee dies, I don't know how I would live with myself.
"And I know that 47 kids will have to die for her to win and I feel so selfish, but—"
Iris cuts me off. "No. Don't worry, Maylene. Of course, you feel that way. I want Maysilee to win too. It's not selfish at all."
Tears spring to my eyes. "But all those kids, Iris. And their families..."
She shakes her head. "This is just what the Capitol wants. They want us to suffer and this is the best way they can do it."
"What if she has to watch William die?" I ask. Then another thought comes to my mind. "Iris. His sisters would have to watch him die."
Iris gives me a pained look, probably remembering how we ran into WIlliam's two sisters at the square for the countdown. I know that the older of the two, Lielle is legible for the Reaping and the younger one, Aria, isn't. They were both crying as they watched the countdown but still told us they hoped Maysilee didn't die in the Bloodbath.
My parents, who were wrecked themselves, had stuffed both of thier pockets with sweets, the only thing we could do to help them even a little. I wish we could have done more.
"If he dies," I say, my voice cracking. "We'll help his sisters out."
Iris nods. "Of course. And Maysilee could give them some of her Victor's earnings."
That's if she doesn't die too.
The television screen switches. Maysilee and William have stopped kissing so the Gamemakers must be looking for something else to keep the Capitol entertained. Nothing else is going on in the Arena. At least for now. The Careers are also on the mountain, but luckily for Maysilee, they are higher up.
The remaining girl from District 6 and the remaining girl from District 8 ran into each other yesterday and decided to ally instead of killing one another. They are also on the mountain, the same amount up as the Careers, only they are facing the forest.
After showing brief shots to catch us up on the some of the other tributes, the cameras switch to someone who I almost forgot about. Haymitch. He hasn't been on the cameras too much since he's been walking in the same direction for the past day and not doing anything else. But now he's come across another tribute.
The last boy from 11 jumps out from the trees, startling Haymitch into dropping his pack. Iris draws in a sharp breath beside me. She hates watching the tributes fight.
On a normal year, I would too. But this year, all I can think is that if it helps Maysilee win, I'm willing for the rest of the tributes to die.
It's terrible to think like that. I know it is. But I can't help it. Maysilee is my twin, my other half. Every day since I was born, I've woken up to see her sleeping on the bed across from mine. She's 3 minutes older than me. I don't know a world that exists that doesn't have her in it.
I miss her so much that it's tearing me apart inside. It's like a constant ache somewhere deep in my chest. I can't stand it. How could I ever live the rest of my life without her by my side?
Back on the screen, Haymitch makes a quick recovery, diving to the ground to avoid the boy from 11 and rolling to reach his knife. The boy from 11, who's much bigger than Haymitch, uses this as an opportunity to trap Haymitch on the ground. Haymitch struggles as the boy pulls out a scythe.
Iris gasps and I catch her despairing look. "Poor Hayden. I hope he isn't watching."
It takes me a second to remember that Haymitch has a brother and when I do, I feel immediately terrible for wishing the tributes would all die.
I bite my lip. "I thought he would get farther than this."
It turns out I shouldn't have feared. Haymitch somehow manages to jerk to the side as the scythe comes down. Instead of his heart, the scythe comes down and cuts his shoulder, adding to the large amount of cuts Haymitch already has.
Haymitch gives an involuntary cry and swings his retrieved knife at the boy's calf. It opens a deep cut and the boy stumbles, dropping his scythe. Haymitch rolls to the side and the weapon gets lodged into the ground. As the boy from 11 works to free it, Haymitch jumps up, grabs his fallen pack, and runs. The boy from 11 howls in rage when he realizes his victim got away but Haymitch is surprisingly smart and chose to weave between the trees, leaving the boy from 11 far behind and unable to track him.
Iris lets out a sigh of relief. "That was close."
"Why didn't Haymitch just kill him?" I ask, puzzled. "It would have been hard but he had the advantage."
Iris shrugs. "Maybe he thought other tributes would hear the fight. Then he would have to fight them as well. He's already injured."
I frown. Taking into account what I know of Haymitch so far, he seems pretty arrogant. He doesn't seem like the person who would pass up a kill. But then I remember how he broke down when the little boy from 7 was killed and I'm not sure what I think of him. The Games bring out the deepest parts of people.
The cameras move around to show the Careers, who are just waking up. They luckily decide to stay put for the day. That means Maysilee and her alliance is safe from being found by them.
A cry of pain comes as the screen switches again and I startle. The screen shows Maysilee, William, and Miller. Miller is crying in pain, clutching his poisoned arm. It looks horrifying. The skin is purple and inflamed, covered in scabs and red spots.
Iris makes a strangled noise. "That's going to kill him. He won't last the day."
Tears sting my eyes at the suffering. Maysilee will have to watch him die, if she doesn't kill him herself. In that moment, I hate the Capitol. For causing all this pain and suffering for so many people.
"Is it bad that I don't care as much as I should?" I say, the tears overflowing. I've cried at least three times a day since Maysilee left. My emotions change so quickly now it's hard to keep track. "I feel so guilty for not caring more. I know that so many people are suffering but I just want her back. She's my sister. She's not theirs to take."
Iris sets down her cup to wrap her arms around me. "I know," she says soothingly as I sob. "I know."
"Every single time someone dies, all I can think is that she's one step closer to coming back home."
"Me too," she says. "That's all I can think about."
I can hear her start to sniffle and we hug each other as hard as we can. We used to always hug as a trio and I can feel the empty space where Maysilee would be.
When we break apart, I can see Maysilee on the screen. Now, she's the twin crying.
Iris turns up the volume so we can hear what she says.
"William, we have to do it. He's in so much pain. We can't let him suffer. He would never have let that happen to us."
William hugs my twin and whispers something in her ear. She sniffles, shaking her head.
"No, I can't ask you to do that. I know you didn't want to kill anyone in these Games. I've already killed. I should do it."
Maysilee. The girl who hated violence but stood up for her family no matter what it took. Maysilee who beat up a boy who made fun of me when we were kids. Maysilee who cried watching the Hunger Games when we were seven. Maysilee who calmed me down at our first Reaping.
Her words leave me trembling.
"She's killed," I say out loud. "She's killed twice."
"She did it to save her ally. Someone she loves." Iris's voice is gentle and reassuring, like always.
"I know," I say softly. "That doesn't make it any less fair."
I watch as Maysilee stands shakily and takes the syringe from her pack.
Iris grasps my hand. "I know. Nothing about this is fair."
Maysilee Donner
William distracts Miller while I get the syringe. My hands won't stop shaking.
I try my best to control my ragged breathing as I approach Miller from behind. I don't want him to hear me and get scared. He's been crying in pain for the past five minutes. To wait now would be to just give him a worse death.
In the end, I can't do it.
It makes no sense. I've already killed twice. Surely I can do a mercy kill to ease the suffering of one of my allies. But instead I find myself standing at Miller's shoulder, the syringe filled with air, shaking with silent tears.
I can't kill him. I just can't.
"Maysilee," William says softly after ten minutes of silence. "I'll do it."
"No." My voice shakes. "You didn't want to have to kill. I can do it. I just—"
"Maysilee," he says again. He meets my eyes and I can see the pain in them. "It's okay. If it'll help him...I'll do it."
My legs give out and I sink to my knees. William embraces me, stroking my hair.
"Why do they make us do this," I whisper. "How could anyone be so cruel?"
He knows I'm talking about the Capitol.
"Shh." He takes the syringe from me and even though it wrecks me, I let him. The guilt I feel is overwhelming. I'm making him kill. But I also feel relieved. Now I don't have to.
I don't know which one feels worse.
Miller's cries have paused. He whimpers as William places the syringe at his shoulder. William's hands shake even worse than mine did but he tries to steady it.
"Miller," I say. I have to help William. Have to make this easier for him. "Do you want to see Mazie?"
At first, I thought that mentioning Mazie would make Miller go mad. Instead, it's the only thing that calms him. He nods, a serene smile appearing on his face.
"Guess what?" I continue in the same soft voice, even though it trembles. "You're going to see her soon. Won't that be nice?"
He nods again as William pushes the plunger down.
Miller jumps at the brief pain but then seems to leave into his mind, his face going blank again. William has his eyes squeezed shut, the syringe clenched in his hand.
I reach my hand for his.
"It's done," he says, his voice faint. "I did it."
"Thank you," I whisper. I'm overwhelmed with guilt.
He opens his eyes and looks at Miller. "It'll take a while, right? For him to..."
"Yes. I think maybe half an hour."
"I guess we wait."
I pack up our stuff and place our packs on my back. William hobbles over to help me wrap up the sleeping bag.
"How far should we go?"
"Just enough for the hovercraft to pick him up."
I take one last glance at Miller before we leave. He's got that same blank look on his face, sitting on the hard mountain ground. His shirt ripples in the breeze and he plays with Mazie's ribbon in his hands. I know that within a half hour, he'll be dead.
I sling William's arm over my shoulder to support him and the two of us walk in silence, not wanting to speak. I don't know what I'd say if we spoke either. I know that if I open my mouth, I'll lose the somewhat calm facade I have on. William must feel the same.
We decide to walk downhill so no one will find us even after the canon goes. We walk for about 20 minutes before William has to stop. Then, we sit on the ground and wait.
When the cannon finally goes off, I burst into tears, burying my head in William's shoulder. He shakes with silent sobs and we cling to each other. I hate how the Games make us seem to weak. But I couldn't care less. The Games have shaped me in ways that I thought would never be possible. I hate them for doing this to us.
I grit my teeth as I hear the hovercraft descend from somewhere above us. There's no point in being weak. It won't help Miller. He's already gone.
"A parachute." William's voice breaks our silence.
He points about ten feet away to where a silver parachute is gently floating onto the ground. My heart leaps at the bulge it carries.
I leap up and grab it, eagerly unwrapping the container. I breathe a sigh of relief at the contents.
"Oh, Reynald," I whisper. "Thank you."
"What's inside?"
I show William the container of salve and bandages inside. He smiles and says his thanks to our mentor.
"Okay," I say. "We'll put the salve on first. It's for your leg, I'm sure it is."
He frowns. "Won't it hurt?"
I give him a shrug but wince thinking of all the times I've seen Iris spread herbal salves on half-closed wounds. Those would definitely hurt. All I can do is hope that the Capitol has better ones.
I remove the pieces of cloth we had wrapped around William's leg before and wince at how stiff they are with his dried blood. I make a mental note to wash them the first chance I get. For now, they go in the front flap of one of the packs.
William grimaces. "It doesn't look good, does it?"
It doesn't. The skin around the cut is red and inflamed looking. Flakes of dried blood stick to the opening of the cut and I don't think I trust myself to wash it out properly. I'm sure he's got some sort of blood poisoning. But he doesn't need to know that. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe this Capitol medicine will fix him right back up.
I hope.
"It'll be fine," I promise, scooping up the minty green salve with my fingers. "We'll put this on and put the bandages on around it. Then you'll be alright."
He doesn't contradict me and I'm grateful. After the day we've had, I don't know how much more positivity I can feign until I break.
The moment the salve touches William's skin, he shrieks, jerking back.
"It burns!" he gasps, his lip between his teeth.
There's nothing I can do to make it easier for him. I remember when I was eleven and fell while running through the streets with Iris and Maylene. I scrapped both my knees really bad and I can still remember the pain of Iris's mom spreading a healing salve onto them.
But William bears it better now than I did then. He closes his eyes and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out as I spread the salve on his thigh as best as I can. When I finish, I wrap it up in the bandages Reynald sent.
"It's done," I say, putting the rest of the salve in my pack. "How does it feel?"
William takes a deep breath and stands, walking a few steps back and forth gingerly. "Better," he says. "It doesn't burn like it did yesterday."
I shoot him a reproachful look."You never said it burned."
He looks down at his feet sheepishly. "I didn't want to worry you."
"Tell me when you're hurt. I want to be able to help you."
"You just being here is help enough."
I blush.
"Thanks again," I say, hoping Reynald is listening to us. "Thank you for the bandages." I pause. "The syringe too. I hope you're not too mad we waited so long to use it."
"We wanted to," William says. "But we couldn't. But thank you so much. And thanks to District 9 as well. Our condolences for your losses. Miller and Mazie were wonderful people."
It's just like William to be thinking of others. "And Leila too," I say, my eyes tearing up. I grab William's hand and hold on tight. "I hope their families are listening right now. And know how sorry we are that we couldn't save your children."
William wraps his arm around me and I hug him back. We make to sit down, probably to make a lunch of crackers and apples, when another parachute descends in front of us and lands in William's outstretched arm.
He gives it a puzzled look. "Is this for us?"
"It has to be. No one else is here."
He opens it slowly but then gasps, showing me what's inside. I gasp and allow myself to grin, identifying the loaf of bread wrapped inside. It's the same bread we both loved so much before the Games. It's sprinkled with sunflower seeds and raisins. My mouth waters at the delicacy of it.
"Oh wow," William says softly. He looks over at me with a grin. "You remember this right?"
All I can do is nod.
We quickly settle down and tear into it. I use Ana's knife to cut us both thick slices and we eat the bread for lunch. My stomach rumbles in pleasure, reminding me that this is our first meal of the day. It's fairly late in the day so we add a couple apple slices in for good measure. I doubt they would have stayed fresh anyway.
"Thank you," I breathe as we finish our meal. It's the best thing I've had in the Arena so far. I know how pricey something like this must have been for Reynald. Yet he still wanted to lift our spirits after the terrible day we've had. He must have been paying attention to us after all.
He must have hope that one of us can win.
Haymitch Abernathy
I jump at the sound of a cannon, my heart thudding against my chest.
Who died now? Whose family is never going to see them again?
It's been strangely quiet since yesterday. Well the cannons have been quiet. I've had my fair share of fights. But still. Only two deaths these past two days. That almost never happens without the Gamemakers deciding to spice things up soon after. I feel a sense of foreboding. But mostly, I'm curious. In an arena of 48 kids—no, 19 kids now—how have there not been more deaths?
The Careers this year must be thinking of a fatal idea for us outliers. Or maybe they're too busy fighting each other. The latter would be great news for me.
My feet ache with every step, reminding me of the mutts that attacked me yesterday. And the boy who attacked me just an hour ago. I'm lucky that the cut his scythe gave my shoulder isn't too deep. My jacket wrapped around the wound seems to be the only care I need. Still, I'm angry with myself for not reacting sooner. It sounds dumb to say that I was far too deep in thought to have noticed the tell-tale signs of a tribute sneaking up on me, but I was. I wonder how long he had been watching me for.
I finally take a break, leaning heavily against a tree, as I watch the hovercraft descend to pick up a tribute on the mountain. Even from here, I see a flash of bright red hair hidden in the metal of the hovercraft's claws.
I rack my brain, trying to remember the faces of every tribute. Then try to remember who is still alive.
No matter how hard I search my brain, I cannot guess who died just now. Maybe it's better I don't know. For a moment, I hope it's the boy from 11. I bite my lip, hating myself for the brief thought. Then I remember that it doesn't matter because the boy from 11 wasn't on the mountain and doesn't have red hair anyway.
If anything he reminded me of Rowan. The young boy also from 11 who I talked to and defended against in training. The one who was next to me when the Bloodbath started. I know he didn't make it out alive. Not for the first time, I wonder how he died. I wonder who killed him.
I had almost forgotten that there was a boy from 11 still alive and I'd been deep enough in my thoughts that he startled me into dropping my pack. A fatal mistake on my part, I know. Luck has really been on my side. For now at least.
I hope Hayden and Serena aren't watching when my luck runs out.
Actually I hope it doesn't run out at all.
The hovercraft is long gone when I force myself to keep walking. I'm not too sure as to why I'm so desperate to get to the end of the Arena. I just don't want to run the risk of running into other tributes.
That plan of mine has been fairly unsuccessful so far.
I've never seen a tribute try and get to the end of the Arena. I know the Gamemakers are smart. There must be something there that I can use.
Either a safe spot or a weapon. That's what I'm hoping for anyway.
It's only when I'm so lightheaded I start stumbling do I take another break. I slump against a tree and sit down hard on the floor. It's been quiet since I ran into the boy from 11 so I can safely assume that most of the other tributes are on the mountain.
I sip some water that Reynald sent me two days ago. I've been rationing it as best I can, saving it for later instead of enjoying it now. Drinking and eating just enough to keep me alive. Being from the Seam means I know how to survive on essentially nothing. Unfortunately, a week in the Capitol has my stomach wanting more than I'm willing to give it right now.
It's only when I realize that my food won't keep forever do I add in two slices of bread to my meal. As I eat, I examine all the new scars I've received in the past couple days. I can't help but wince as each one brings back memories.
That butterfly mutt stinging me.
Fighting the Careers and watching Jack die.
Those blasted mutts attempting to eat me alive.
The boy from 11 trying to kill me.
I know that if I win, the Capitol will erase all these scars. Over the years, I've watched tributes face hell in the Arena, scars on both their body and mind. When those tributes become Victors, the Capitol erases the physical scars, leaving their skin pristine and pure. Only the mental scars never go away.
I shake my head vigorously like it'll help stop my thoughts. I've been feeling fidgety and shaky for the past few days. It definitely did not help to have been attacked so many times. Sometimes it's just hard to catch my breath and other times, my mind is racing so hard I have trouble keeping up.
After I polish off my bread and allow myself some more water, I start walking. Again in the same direction that I know will lead me to the end of the Arena. A part of me is excited. I'm not too far away. Maybe only another day of walking away. I can do that. It's not as though I have anything better to do anyway.
As I walk, I take great care to stay away from the bright purple flowers I see here and there. My face burns with humiliation as I remember almost accidentally poisoning myself with them yesterday. I had been thinking about Serena, and how she would always pick me flowers. I had thought it was the cheesiest thing, but it made her happy so I sound myself loving whenever she would surprise me with them. So of course, me being in the Arena and being homesick, decided to see if these flowers would help calm my heartache just a little. They didn't, of course. Because the Capitol is never nice.
In fact, those flowers almost killed me. And I hate that someone could have seen my vulnerability, if even for a moment.
I probably looked like I was in a trance, reaching for those flowers.
Except when I started bad-mouthing the Capitol after I found out they were poisonous. That would definitely not look like an accident. If I'm lucky, something else was happening during that time. Maybe the Careers got in a fight or something. Something so that the Gamemakers didn't see it. If I'm lucky, only Reynald would have seen, since he can monitor me 24/7.
I sure hope so anyway. I don't think my good luck extends to the wrath of President Snow. He hates being insulted, especially by district scum.
The sun is setting when I finally stop again. Only this time, it's not because I'm so tired I'll collapse. No, this time it's because there is a giant maze of hedges blocking my path. They are so tall it seems as though the wall of green goes on to reach the sky. I know before looking in both directions that it goes on for the entire Arena. This must be how they stop tributes from finding the end of the Arena.
Even after a half hour of searching, I can't find the entrance. It doesn't matter. No tribute with a brain cell would go into a giant maze with only knives as their weapon. Who knows what mutts are lurking in there. Even more annoying, I'm only 80% sure that the maze won't just close the moment I step into it, sealing me inside. I've seen worse things in other Games. Like tributes being eaten alive by minuscule ants. Or being sucked under quicksand.
No matter how confident I may be, there is no way I'm going into that maze. Besides, it probably doesn't even have an entrance anyway. The only way to get through it would be to burn it down.
And I'm not going to risk setting this very tree-dense part of the Arena on fire.
Still, I'm pretty dejected. Getting to the end of the Arena would have been neat, if only to annoy the Capitol. And see what was there. Well now I can't stay here. If a tribute finds me, I'd have nowhere to run. I want to curse when I realize I'll have to head back into the thick of the Arena again. More chances of running into tributes. I'm lucky most of them are still on that mountain.
I turn around. Might as well get started now.
It's not like I have anything better to do.
Alright, it's a wrap on Day 5. Maysilee and William manage to kill Miller, but not without a lot of guilt. Haymitch escapes a fight and finds the end of the Arena. Too bad a giant maze blocks his path. Don't worry...he'll find a way through.
Wow, it took me a while to get this up. I just hate killing off my characters. It's always tough to write. The next chapter is going to be even worse when it comes to killing off characters though. I'm sure you can guess who dies next. It's also pretty challenging to switch character POVs all the time since everyone has such a different mind. Be sure to let me know if you enjoy the different POVs.
Also Haymitch did get away with bad-mouthing the Capitol yesterday. Only Reynald, Milo, and Mags were watching him. The Gamemakers saw but they'll punish him some other way. Besides, they are too busy looking for a way to make the Second Quarter Quell a lot more interesting...