Chip Maxen, 13, D12M:
I still haven't fully accepted losing Sorrel in the Bloodbath. I saw her lying on the ground, perfectly still, blood soaking the dirt underneath her, Lyra-Rose's arrow protruding from her chest, and I know full well there's no way she could recover, even with the finest of sponsor gifts. Still, when the anthem plays tonight, I'm not prepared to see her face. A heavy quiet has descended on our camp at the solemnity of her and Emily's glaring absence, but the silence is shattered as the thunderous sound of a cannon shakes the arena with its boom. "The Bloodbath must be over," Ardledge decides.
Another cannon rings out, and then four more. We're all waiting for the other shoe to drop, for a final blast to come, but none does. "Small Bloodbath," says Griffin. "Good for Emily's odds of survival. We saw the Eight boy die too, so that's only four deaths that could potentially be Emily's." Without having to say it out loud, we know we're all both looking forward to, yet dreading the anthem. Nobody wants to see Sorrel up there, but the sooner it comes, the sooner our collective anxiety over Emily can decrease. If she's alive, we know she's alright. If she's not, we at least won't have to worry about her safety.
In the meantime, Ardledge and Griffin are busying themselves by worrying over my safety instead. After debating the merits of frostbite versus shock, it was decided that sticking my wrist into the thick layer of snow and keeping it there would work as an ice pack to get rid of some of the pain. That part of the plan is working great. However, the problem is that extended skin contact with snow can permanently destroy the flesh under my skin. In District Twelve, if you got bad enough frostbite, the healers would just have to perform an amputation.
As one might expect, I'm not that crazy about the idea of an in-arena amputation via a dagger, so Ardledge just had me take my wrist out of the snow and wrapped it up in a shred of fabric he slashed off the bottom of his skirt. Despite my initial suspicions, my skirt, which I now have rolled down to my ankles, is excellent for keeping me warm in the frigid climate. It's also helpful to make emergency bandages. Ardledge and Griffin told me that there was a good chance a sponsor would send me some medical supplies since I made a good impression at the interviews. No gifts have arrived thus far, but then again, the Bloodbath cannons only just went off. We're less than half an hour into the Hunger Games, it'll probably take the teal-haired escort some time to convince the socialites of the Capitol that I'm a worthwhile way to spend their money.
Ardledge and Griffin have found a flat spot devoid of plant life that we can hide in, encircled by a ring of trees. The kind that shed needles instead of leaves. There are some fallen branches lying about, so they've elected to make use of our new rope by threading it around the trees and further concealing us by weaving the springs of needles into it. That way there will be denser cover for us to hide in. We also discovered some hunting items in the backpack, but rather than setting snares, Griffin strung the thick barbed wire tightly across the main path one would take to enter our little safe haven. He also dug around under the snow and located some pebbles, which he set inside of our empty metal water bottle so it would rattle. Then he hooked the water bottle onto the tripwire to turn it into an alarm.
The finished camp is safe and secure from intruders, so we all gather near the center as the searing pain returns to my wrist in increments since it's been removed from the snow. We're speculating about which tributes might have died so far when the first silver parachute drifts to a halt just in front of Ardledge. We all notice it at once, and after seeing the big D12M, it's given to me. I open the metal canister to the sharp smell of rubbing alcohol. It's full of thin circular wipes, no doubt soaked in antiseptic so they can be used to cleanse injuries. I'm just about to take one out and get to work disinfecting my now-throbbing-again wrist when another parachute comes into view and floats down above us. I snag it out of the air, as it's also clearly marked as mine, and discover a wide, shallow metal box. I'm about to pop open the latch when two more parachutes start to descend, landing gently in front of me. I scoot all of my presents behind me, though, because several more are falling down, and I see D4M and D11M on them.
Once the sudden hail of parachutes has stopped, we separate the items into four piles: one for me, Griffin, and Ardledge, and one for the gifts that are addressed to all three of us. In District Twelve, receiving gifts was a huge deal, and you had to unwrap them in front of everybody so they could ooh and aah, so I'm delighted when Griffin suggests we should open them one by one. Ardledge opens his two first to reveal a large net, a fishing rod, and some bait. Griffin's contain a shield and a protective chestplate. Then it's my turn. I show them the wipes first, and then open the box to reveal a first aid kit with all sorts of supplies in it. The other two are pots of medicine, the fancy stuff that's cooked up in the Capitol. One is labeled Serious Infection, the other Grievous Injury.
Ardledge explains that even though my wrist probably hasn't had time to develop a serious infection, if any of us does suffer one, the medicine could be used for it. "It could also probably prevent infection," he adds, "But I'd use the injury one first. I bet it would make you heal really quickly!" The mood lightens significantly with the hope that I'll be okay. Then we turn our attention to the last packages. Ardledge opens the first and withdraws a colorful paper map coated thinly with clear plastic. We determine that it's showing us the arena, but we forget all about it immediately because of the last gift.
It's a magnificent tent that could easily fit six people. The exterior is made of the same waterproof material as our clothing, and we get to work assembling it right away. When we step in, it's comfortably warm, unlike the inhospitable weather outside. It even has a temperature control dial, which Ardledge cranks up as high as it will go. Griffin and I are forced to take off our many clothes until we're sitting in thin undershirts, demandinArdledge to tell us what the purpose of this is.
We find out when he, still in his thick coat, grabs Griffin's shield, takes it outside, and returns with a panful of snow in its bowl-shaped underside. The heat melts it into water, and Ardeldge returns or tent to a reasonable temperature as he adds two of our water purification capsules.
Our mission has shifted. We have enough food to live off of for a couple of days, unlimited fresh water, and medication in case we get sick or hurt. We're sitting pretty without the concerns of hypothermia or dehydration that other tributes might be facing. At least until the Gamemakers get bored of us, we're going to be just fine right here. The only thing we can hope for now is that Emily survived and can reunite with us.
Emily Parker, 12, D10F:
Trey will surely be coming after me. In the Bloodbath, he chased after me, but I managed to outrun him the same way I did so many years ago. He did chuck a switchblade at me, so I have a long scrape on my shoulder, but other than that, I'm relatively unharmed. As a bonus, I even managed to get a backpack of stuff. Most of it was small. A firestarter, some warm gloves, an empty metal water bottle, some nutrient bars. However, it also contained a sleeping bag, and that's going to be serving me very well tonight. My biggest problems are that I'm weaponless and alone. I can put snow in my bottle and use the firestarter to heat it up, but I'll have to get it hot enough to start it boiling if it's to be safe, which will take a very long time, and right now, I don't have the luxury of stopping to do that. I will at some point, though. My nutrient bars can tide me over for a while in the way of food, but I've also been able to recognize some edible plants.
My savior, as of right now, is the pine tree. The needles, although tough, aren't poisonous. The sap is also a mild antibacterial agent, and although putting sticky sap on an open wound feels disgusting, I'll be all the better for it. Some of the pine trees also had nuts big enough to harvest and eat, and although I've only gathered a few handfuls, their protein-rich, fatty flesh will keep me full. If only I had some water to go with it!
The good thing about the Career Pack is that the Two boy is injured. His allies will probably wait a little bit for him to heal, perhaps as much as a few hours. All I can do is hope I'm not their biggest priority. There have been six cannons so far. A quarter of the tributes are already dead, and because I ran away early on, I witnessed only one death. There's no telling if my allies are still alive or where they are, but we are each other's best chance of survival.
I've been traveling in a straight line outwards, just trying to put as much distance as possible between me and the Careers. Trey hates me with a passion, and he'll stop at nothing to make sure that I'm dead. Although I can walk for a long time, I can't walk forever, especially if I'm cold and have no readily available water, which is why I eventually have to stop and take a break. I eat a few more pine needles, organize my meager stash of helpful items, and go to the bathroom, which is less of a room and more of a shallow pit I dug in the snow.
When I turn back to my supplies, five shimmering parachutes are lined up in a row on the ground next to them. Each one is of a different size, and I begin with the largest, which turns out to be a weapon. I might not be much good with traditional weapons, but something tells me that I might be able to put this chainsaw to good use. The nice thing about chainsaws is that the whirring blades tend to discourage people from attacking you. The second-largest is a medium-sized backpack loaded up with supplies. I decide to examine that later when I have more time. The middle item is a meal of some kind that smells absolutely tantalizing and is still hot. Too hot, so I'm not tempted to taste it before looking at my last two gifts. One is a flashlight with the standard two settings of bright and dim, along with a third labeled Bonus. I decide to try that one out when it's dark.
The last thing is a short note from my mentor. Turn towards the steeper alps and follow the conifers to the thickest foliage. Walk around the left side of the second-highest spruce tree. I have no idea why I have to do this particular thing, but my mentor (and Trey's mentor, who is also supporting me) have an advantage. They get to see all the tributes on television, and they know things we don't. Their insight can get me places I could never get on my own, so, as an incentive, I promise myself that I'll get to eat the hot dinner if I make it to my destination before nightfall.
Arranging my supplies and clipping my backpacks together, I prepare to set out. Because I know these gifts were given to me by the Capitol sponsors, however cruel and silly they might be, I look to the sky. "Thank you to the fine people of the Capitol for their generosity. I will not waste it." I do as my mentor ordered, following the pines and firs for a shorter time than I imagined it would take. After perhaps only thirty minutes, I'm standing before an area thick with brush, fat trees that could form an alcove within them. I could rush right in, but my mentor would not include her second sentence for nothing, so I pick out the spruces, which are bushier than the other, thinner types of trees, and pick not the tallest, but the one slightly shorter than it. I step cautiously to the left of it and creep forward until I come upon a tent.
There are tributes here, tributes that my mentor deliberately sent me to. She wouldn't lead me astray, would she? I briefly entertain the thought that since she originated in District Four, she brought me right to the Careers' doorstep, but then I remember that the Careers will have claimed the Cornucopia. No, these tributes will be sympathetic to me. Or they could be my allies, who somehow got the best shelter in the Games. Yes, it must be that! Since I don't want to make it seem like I'm sneaking up on them, I call out. "Hello? Is anyone here?"
"Emily!" At the sound of my voice, the flap of the tent opens and Chip, Griffin, and Ardledge rush out all at once, sweeping me up in a hug before I can even register their presence. "You made it after all!"
"Did Trey get you?"
"Why are you carrying two backpacks at once?"
"How did you get separated from us?" Everyone asks a question at the same time. "Not really, sponsors, and I'll explain." Before I can settle down, they show me their grand haul of equipment. In return, I show them mine, first my chainsaw, then my meal, then my new backpack.
"What's inside it?"
"I haven't checked." I open the sponsor bag and produce a second empty water bottle, a stiff spring, a utility knife, a bar of soap, a field guide, a sleeve of crackers, a bag of apples, and a bundle of green leafy stuff that looks just like tree branches.
"I know what that's for!" Ardledge says. "It's so you can conceal traps. We set traps around the camp already, but I guess you knew that. Were they too obvious?"
"No." I show him the note from my mentor, which specified the exact place I needed to enter. We further conceal ourselves from plain view by adding the green stuff to the trees, and Ardledge shows me how he got water and how to work the dial for the tent temperature.
Rather than eating it for lunch, I save my meal for supper since the magical Capitol container it's been placed in is keeping it hot and fresh, and instead partake in sharing a slice of bread with my allies. They tell me that Sorrel died, and although I'm sad my friend is gone, I can't afford to be devastated by it. This is the Hunger Games, and if I, a tiny twelve-year-old girl from a poor district, intend to become the Victor, I have to distance myself from the tragedy enough to keep my head in the game.
"What time is it?" Griffin asks. He gets three answers at once.
"Not sure," Chip says.
"Nearly noon, probably," Ardledge says.
"Time to start up this chainsaw," I say. "I need to build some fortifications."
Eliza Maddox, 17, D2F:
The Career Pack already seems to be falling apart at the seams.
We'd gathered on the highest pedestal, and Lyra had been aimlessly tapping her foot and complaining ever since, particularly about Rafe and Oscar, both of whom have been injured. "We should kill the boys now!" she was saying. "Why wait for them to get better when we could decrease the number of tributes?" Livi had interrupted with a snarl.
"What is that infernal noise? Lyra-Rose, are you tap dancing? Do you need to practice? Because I'm no expert, but it sounds like your routine needs some work." This had set Lyra off even more, so now she's amusing herself by stroking her bow and murmuring sympathetically to it and her quiver of arrows about mean people who just don't understand her many talents.
Rafe and Oscar have both been good sports about their wounds and allowed me to perform first aid without much trouble. The problem is that Lyra-Rose seems dead set on destroying the alliance with her whining. Well, less whining. It's more peevish, so it fits better into the whingeing category. Part of it is that we're all a little beaten down since the Bloodbath was so small. The people of the Capitol are surely disappointed in us. The good news is that we each got at least one kill, but none of the deaths were very unexpected save for Trey, and the viewers don't particularly like torture, so they were probably very thankful that Livi killed him.
There's been very little drama, nothing too exciting, just a bunch of tributes shivering in the cold. Well, we have tarps to lay out and warm clothes, and we can share our body heat, but seeing the whole Career alliance cuddled up together under a bunch of blankets like children at a slumber party is just laughable. It's not totally stupid, though, because it is cold, and camping out on top of the pedestal means we're getting the worst of the wind that's soaring through the arena.
The Cornucopia protects us from most of it, but it's still chilly, especially in the metal horn. We had an argument just after the Bloodbath about the winter wear and who got to have what since we found earmuffs, a hat, a scarf, and two pairs of gloves among the supplies. Five items meant that each of us could have one, but Lyra-Rose insisted on having all of them. Livi claimed the earmuffs, making another jab at Lyra's incessant foot-tapping and how she wanted nothing more than to hear less of it. Lyra got the scarf since she thought gloves might mess up her bow form, as if it could be any worse, and she was deeply concerned that a hat might muss up her hair. Rafe opted for a pair of gloves, and so did Oscar, claiming that they would help him grip his knives better while throwing them.
There was only one set of knives that I could see, and Oscar got to them first, so I'm left with a bandolier of shurikens. I'd prefer the knives, but I can't afford to be picky, and it's not much of a handicap since I can use shurikens equally well. Anyway, because of his decision about the second pair of gloves, I got the hat. In order to get it on, I had to undo my bun and put my hair in a low ponytail instead, so Lyra's fear of having to change her hair may have been true to some extent, but I don't mind. I'm perfectly willing to do that if it means my head, face, and the back of my neck will be warmer.
Since there's not much better to do and Lyra-Rose is off sulking, Rafe, Oscar, Livi, and I are curled up with the blankets, deciding which tributes we want to target. Livi's picking at a hangnail; Rafe busies himself by reorganizing the first aid kit. Oscar's side is bothering him and he's having a hard time getting comfortable, so he rests his head on my shoulder and I try to weave a few feathery strands of his hair into a braid, but they keep falling out. Eventually, Rafe scoots over to my other side, and Livi moves in closer to form a tight circle. "Who should we go after?" Oscar is asking. "Strong tributes we want out of the way or weak tributes that we can kill more easily?"
"What strong tributes are you talking about? We're the strongest tributes around!" Livi looks amused at the thought of a tribute stronger than her.
"We mean tributes that can hurt us. Tributes that already have hurt us." Rafe gestures to his stomach. "Tributes like Radley. He'll wish I got him in the Bloodbath by the time I'm finished with the test of my new technique."
"No torture, though." Livi's authoritative voice makes it clear who the leader is.
"Yes, yes, no torture. It still won't be fun for him."
"Alright," I cut in. "Our plan is to go after Radley. When do we begin tracking him down?"
"Tomorrow morning sounds good." There's a chorus of agreement, and Livi smiles brightly. Lyra-Rose notices that we're having a discussion without her, so she meanders over, looking bothered.
"What are you talking about? Don't I get a say?"
Livi fixes her with a glare.
"No." After obtaining an affirmative vote from everybody of importance, (that is, everybody but Princess Perfect over here) she takes on an air of wisdom as she puts on her most benevolent expression. At last, she takes hold of her spear and taps the sharp point fondly.
"It's settled," she declares. "At daybreak, we hunt."
Pola Velek, 15, D3F:
Honestly, I'm not surprised that Soren survived the Bloodbath. All I had to do was warn him that under no circumstances should he flee immediately with me, and, because he's so contrarian, he did the exact opposite, following right behind as we ran for safety. Zea rejoined us quickly with some handheld darts and two duffel bags stuffed with supplies. According to her, the boy from Eight, girl from Twelve, and both tributes from Five are dead. That means that two cannons are still unaccounted for. My alliance is still intact, though, so I don't particularly care which two tributes died.
Zea is the only one of us who can really use a weapon, which means our main goal is to not be noticed. The bags she picked up contain an array of foodstuffs, as well as some basic survival supplies. They also included a powder compact and puff. I haven't discovered whether or not the powder contains anything toxic, so I haven't done anything with it. I have, however, been fiddling with an odd metal contraption that came with one of them, although I haven't been able to accomplish much. Zea is practicing with her darts, I'm messing with my new device, and Soren is moping about and complaining about how much he hates our surroundings. Zea and I gave him the pair of gloves that we found in the bags to placate him, and to a degree, it's worked. Now instead of whining about the cold, Soren is going on about how terrible the rest of the arena is, and there's not much I can do to fix that.
I'm the first to notice the parachutes. A whole fleet of them are approaching us at once, and it gives me a boost of energy, especially when I see that most of them are labeled D3F. I am the District Three Female, and these gifts are for me. Enough people have taken a liking to me that they weighed the risks and rewards and decided to spend money buying tools from the sponsor shop to aid in my quest for survival. I count twenty-one parachutes that are addressed to me. Zea has ten; Soren has twelve.
Naturally, we unwrap them right away and quickly learn that each of us has been given a small bottle of water, a net, a tarp, a firestarter, a tube of sunblock, a backpack full of supplies, a scuba mask, a set of night vision goggles, and something labeled Safety Box. The only differences between the items are that Zea's goggles and Soren's mask each have a Bonus setting. Choosing to explore those later, we look to our other gifts. Soren has a field guide of some kind and he and I each have a gauntlet that, if the wearer jerks the attached ring, will produce a long blade at the end. When not actively engaged, the blade is drawn into the gauntlets and hidden from view.
Since that's it for their gifts and there's nothing better to do, Zea and Soren watch me unwrap the rest of my haul. There's a map of the arena that I'll examine in more detail at a later time, a set of two walkie-talkies so we can communicate over long distances, a pair of binoculars, a compass, a multitool, an umbrella, a ladder, a utility knife, some materials to make traps, and my personal favorite, a spool of wire. When I open the last item, I think there's nothing inside until I upend it and a piece of paper flutters out. It's a note, presumably from my mentor. She and I had some interesting conversations in the Capitol since she heard about the stunt in the Training Center and wanted me to explain how electricity works.
Before you head for the machine parts you got at the Cornucopia, dismantle your firestarter. I'm counting on you to make your new knives spark. Cryptic wording aside, it's clear she was paying attention to my answer. She deserves a lot more credit than I initially gave her. Although it sounds like a message primarily comprised of encouragement, she's actually just given me the kernel of an idea, and she intended it that way, I'm sure of it!
This is the best thing of all, because now I have all the components of a plan. Plenty of electrical supplies, some pieces of technology, and a strong plan. An offensive plan. I open up the safety box and discover rubber-coated alligator clips, rubber gloves, rubber tape, and a rubber dropcloth. I don my protective gear. With my gloves, I use the screwdriver to take out the motor and all of the wires attached to it. Then I lift up my wire and cut an appropriate length of it, attaching it to the alligator clips at the ends and then to the motor to create a parallel circuit. I craft several more loops in this manner, connecting them until I run out of clips.
There's a trick to what I'm doing. This motor is immensely strong because it has to run for so long, but it is designed for a simple circuit, with just one path. What I did is create a bunch of alternate paths, which is enough to short out the motor. When motors of this kind short out, the metal they are attached to gives off a serious electric shock. Since metal is a conductor, the metal of this motor only needs to touch another piece of metal to flow through it. It also, in addition to traveling through the metal, can take the form of static energy and shock just around the metal too, and this is not a mild sting. It's enough to cause a serious electrical burn, the kind of burn that can render a person unconscious, and, in some circumstances, bring about death.
I wrap my completed circuit in the rubber tape, insulating it on all sides, as I tape the only exposed metal piece to the gauntlet of my sponsor-given weapon. This way the electricity can flow through the end of the blade. Then I shred part of my dropcloth, and with a bit of tape, line the inside of my gauntlet so I'm protected.
This is a calculated risk, so I perform my test with my gloves on. I turn the motor on, and sure enough, the eight-inch blade produces heat when I lay my protected hand near it. In real life, live electricity produces no noise and only creates sparks when it has full contact with an object. This, to me, is proof that my device will work as intended.
Juryrigging knives to electrocute people isn't something I normally have reason to do, but I suppose there's no better place than the Hunger Games to spontaneously engineer a murder weapon.
Radley Allaway, 17, D9M:
When I was in the launch rooms before the Bloodbath, I thought I had this in the bag. I assumed that just because I was a good swimmer and knew how to use a sickle and understood how to identify edible plants and take advantage of natural remedies, just because I got a high training score, that I would have an easy time of things.
I forgot a few things. For example, my endurance is pretty much nonexistent. Also that I have trouble climbing. And that I get out of breath easily. And that I have a terrible sense of direction.
Another thing is slowing me down too. Getting slashed across the chest a few times with a sword will do that to you. As a result, things were not looking very good for me until a sponsor gave me a first aid kit. I really made use of it too, packing the wound with gauze so it wouldn't fester and covered it all up, sealing the edges with medical tape so no germs or other particles could get in. Since there were some medications in it too, I found a vial of pain pills and counted that there were exactly thirty-five of them. It seemed like one pill a day would be an okay number, so I took today's with some of the water that I got from the Cornucopia. The good things are that I have a backpack of survival stuff, medical supplies, and a sickle. The bad things are that I'm lost, injured, and far away from my allies.
I ended up in a wooded area, so because it was bright, I decided that making a fire wouldn't hurt. I was right. I had about two cups of uncooked beans and a half-gallon of water, so I put some beans and some water in the metal container the beans came in and nestled it on the flame. The beans got soft enough to eat, and I heaped some snow over the fire to extinguish it. Although still unpleasantly hard in the middle, the beans weren't half bad and eliminated most of my hunger.
Then, for good measure, I cooked the rest of the beans and drank most of my water. There are at least four portions of beans, so I keep them in their container and fill my water bottle with fresh snow, which I use the fire to turn to water and eventually boil for enough time that I'm willing to risk drinking it.
The beans, plus my packet of cured meat, will feed me for a few days. At some point, I'll have to start foraging, but I want to get my bearings first, and, if I'm lucky, reunite with my allies. As I wander in circles, I can practically feel my odds going down in the Capitol. An injury plus this? Nobody will be betting on me. I'm certain I've gone past this particular tree a few dozen times, and I'm confident that I've gotten absolutely nowhere, so I figure I'd better stop before I get even more lost.
I'm considering giving up when the ground begins to slope downwards. Below me, the snow abruptly cuts off, and I can see a carpet of green in the low valley. I break into a run, desperate to make sure it's not an illusion, some cruel trick of the Gamemakers to lure me towards a mutt. It's not an illusion. The trees have shiny, waxy green leaves, and spherical orange fruits dangle from the branches. Although it's never been my favorite food, stumbling upon this grapefruit orchard means that I won't have to forage in the snow for grasses and flowers. Now I can just eat the fruit. The Gamemakers might have poisoned it, but I doubt that. They have reasons for the things they do, and poisoning orchards isn't one of them.
My theory about the arena has changed. I think that there are little oases like this beyond the ring of snow in every direction and that we've barely entered the arena. The temperature here is noticeably more pleasant, there's plenty of food and not another tribute in sight.
Less than a day has elapsed since us tributes entered the arena. There's still plenty of time for the Gamemakers to guide us places, and for us to independently spread out on our own. The Hunger Games can evolve as we're forced in and out of the different ecosystems, and even if I haven't encountered any so far, there are sure to be traps primed to ensnare me at every turn.
I just have to decide whether to risk falling into them or wait for the Gamemakers to send them after me–and there's no telling which will be worse.
Quinten Aramdale, 17, D6M:
The most pathetic thing about me is that I'm selfish enough to still want help even when I'm the cause of my own misfortune and pain. Like my injured ankle, for example. I had just gotten a spear and a backpack of supplies when I slipped on a patch of blood that had frozen into ice and fell down. The moment I stood up, I knew right away that something was wrong. My ankle wasn't in proper alignment, and it hurt to walk. No sponsor would ever want to help me after such a humiliating wound that I incurred because of my own idiocy.
The problem is that I'm stupid and incompetent and never seem to make the right choice when it comes to anything. And also that I accidentally bother everybody I interact with, and that I can't speak properly with one person, let alone in front of a crowd. Plus I tend to make a fool out of myself, bring down the people around me, and act too childish. Also I'm clingy and I get attached too easily. I demand attention and care that I don't deserve at all and I have the audacity to want love when I'm literally the definition of a screwup. I depend on others for support and reassurance despite never having any useful skills to contribute. I'm irresponsible, lazy, delusional if I think I'm worth a damn, and, in every respect, a total failure.
Looking back, Mrs. Wallstone and Julian weren't even that bad. They just wanted me to understand that I had to conduct myself like a normal person, uphold my self respect by not engaging in homosexual activities like high-fives or hugs, and work hard if I wanted to earn my keep. They were just doling out punishment for the extensive list of things that are wrong with me. The only reason the Capitolites didn't do the same was because they were pampering me before sending me into the Hunger Games. Just like all the rich food, well-fitting clothes, and hot water, their kindness was only temporary. That way I'd at least have one good memory before my death.
I suppose I don't want to die, it's just that I'm unworthy of living. Even so, my greed and senseless materialism drove me to try to get supplies, and I succeeded, for probably the first time ever, at a task. Most importantly, my pack contained a camouflage set and a spade, so I set about scooping snow away from a ditch and trying to deepen it enough so it'd be deep enough for me to bed down for the night inside. The work is going well, because the Wallstones were nice enough to teach me how to stay on my feet and toil away for hours at a stretch and without any breaks. Volunteering for Julian was my duty as his mother's employee, and frankly, I owed it to their family since they put up with me for so long.
When my trench is finally complete and I turn to my supplies to put away my things, I'm shocked to see five silver parachutes near them, equating to five sponsor gifts. Whoever invested in me might as well burn their money, because I have no chance in hell of winning this thing, but investigating the gifts might at least be a little worthwhile. I discover that the first two packages contain sunblock and insect repellant. The insect repellant has a switch saying Bonus on it, so I'm guessing it might be more useful than expected. Then there's a set of night vision goggles, a full backpack, and the most interesting item, a map of the arena. Mine is not on paper, but on a thin screen that I discover can be rolled into a tube shape when not in use. It also has a Bonus switch.
I flip it, and I'm greeted by upside-down teardrops of different colors that materialize on top of the map. Doing my best to read it, I zoom in on the area where the Cornucopia is. There are five teardrops there. Two are orange, two are yellow, and one is light blue. I tap on the light blue one and it expands to say D4F. The orange teardrops display D1F and D1M, with yellow being D2F and D2M. The map is saying that the Careers are near the starting plates. Then I realize that the teardrops are actually moving a little. D4M, D10F, D11M, and D12F are all clumped together. So are D3F, D3M, and D9F. D7F and D8F, who were Radley's allies, are in a pair, but D9M is off on the other side of the Cornucopia. D7M is on its own, and D11F is also isolated, but in a different spot. The one remaining teardrop, the bright red D6M that's supposed to represent me, is alone. I wonder who died, because my memory is bad (another of my many flaws) and I can't remember who's showing up long enough to figure out who isn't.
Already the sky has begun to darken, and I'm losing light fast, so I feel around in my sponsored backpack and locate a blanket and some cheese. I also figure out the latches on my clothes, which extend my greatcoat and skirt down as far as they'll go, and I make a sort of indentation in my new half-shelter so that I can be mostly hidden. I situate my supplies and spear beside me. Night begins to fall. I take a few meager bites of my cheese for dinner, tuck it away also, and then the anthem begins to blare, loud and clear, as the banner is projected onto the side of the arena.
The boy from Five appears first, and then his district partner. Then Amiee's cheery expression shows up, and I involuntarily droop. Amiee might not have been strong, but she was sweet. Harry's smile is next, which is even worse because he tried so hard to convince me that I was a good person, and he genuinely believed it. Trey, the Not-a-Career Career from Ten, is also shown, and I'm relieved that at least one of the trained killers is gone. The girl from District Twelve closes things out, and then the display disappears.
This means that I now only have to outlive seventeen people instead of twenty-three, and it means that I have no allies to rely on. Tomorrow I'll try to do something with my foot, and sort through my things. I'll monitor my map for tributes that are coming towards me. Tonight though, the best I can do is curl up into a ball, spread my blanket over myself, tuck my face into my elbow to keep it off the snow, and hope that sleep overtakes me quickly.
Kill Tracker:
Livi Carnelian: II
Oscar Poudret: I
Eliza Maddox: I
Rafe McClellan: I
Lyra-Rose Ripley: I
Alliance Tracker:
Career Pack: Oscar, Livi, Rafe, Eliza, Lyra-Rose
Protective Older Brothers: Ardledge, Emily, Griffin, Chip
Manipulators and Their Meat Shield: Soren, Pola, Zea
Lumberjack and Gymnast: Jenna, Elle
Loners: Quinten, Damon, Radley, Soya
Supplies Tracker:
Career Pack: Apples, Blanket (x2), Bread (x2), Cheese, Climbing Gear (x2), Crackers (x2), Cured Meat, Dried Fruit (x2), First-Aid Kit (x2), Foam Roll (x3), Nutrient Bars, Rope, Sleeping Bag (x3), Soup (x3), Sunscreen, Tarp (x3), Warm Earmuffs, Warm Gloves (x2), Warm Hat, Warm Scarf, Water (x3), Water Bottle (x3), Water Purification Capsules (x3)
Protective Older Brothers: Antiseptic Wipes, Apples, Bread, Cheese, Climbing Gear, Crackers, Cured Meat, Field Guide, Firestarter, First Aid Kit, Fishing Supplies, Flashlight, Hunting Items, Map of the Arena, Medium Meal, Medium Pack with Supplies, Net, Note of Advice, Nutrient Bars, Piece of Body Armor, Rope (x2), Severe Infection Medicine, Severe Injury Medicine, Shield, Sleeping Bag, Soap, Soup, Special Bonus 2, Stiff spring, Utility Knife, Warm Gloves, Water Bottle (x3), Water Purification Capsules, Waterproof and Temperature Insulated Tent
Manipulators and Their Meat Shield: Apples, Binoculars, Blanket, Bread, Collapsible Lightweight Ladder, Compass, Dried Fruit, Field Guide, Firestarter (x3), Foam Roll, Map of the Arena, Medium Pack with Supplies (x3), Multitool, Net (x3), Night Vision Goggles (x3), Note of Advice, Powder and Puff, Rope, Safety Box (x3), Scuba Mask (x3), Sleeping Bag (x2), Small Water (x3), Special Bonus 3, Special Bonus 4, Spool of Wire, Sunblock (x3), Tarp (x3), Trap Materials, Turbo Umbrella, Unknown Machine-Looking Thing, Utility Knife, Walkie-Talkies, Warm Gloves, Water Bottle
Lumberjack and Gymnast: Bread, Crackers, Dry Wheat, Field Guide, Jar of Lozenges, Mesh Sheet, Resin, Tarp, Trail Mix (x2), Warm Scarf, Water, Water Bottle, Water Purification Capsules, Spool of Wire
Quinten: Camouflage Set, Collapsible Shovel, First-Aid Kit, Insect Repellant, Map of the Arena, Medium Pack of Supplies, Night Vision Goggles, Special Bonus 1, Special Bonus 5, Sunblock, Vegetables, Warm Hat, Water Bottle, Water Purification Capsules
Damon: Antiseptic Wipes, Cheese, Crackers, Grappling Hook, Multitool, Nutrient Bars, Warm Gloves, Water, Turbo Umbrella
Radley: Blanket, Cured Meat, Dry Beans, First Aid Kit, Multitool, Tarp, Trap Materials, Water
Soya: Flashlight, Iodine, Soup, Warm Hat, Water Bottle
Weapons Tracker:
Career Pack: Bandolier of shurikens, bandolier of throwing knives, bow and quiver of arrows (x2), bullwhip, dagger (x3), machete, spear (x5), switchblade, unknown bat-looking thing
Protective Older Brothers: Dagger, Tanto, Warhammer, Chainsaw
Manipulators and Their Meat Shield: Bandolier of Throwing Darts, Hidden Knife Gauntlet (x2)
Lumberjack, Gymnast, and Farmer: Axe, Shortsword, Unknown Scissors-Looking Thing
Quinten: Spear
Damon: Axe
Radley: Sickle
Soya: No Weapon
Hey y'all!
So rising-balloons pointed out to me that the Lumberjack, Gymnast, and Farmer alliance still includes Farmer, despite Jenna and Elle being separated from Radley. Farmer had a strikethrough in Google Docs, but I don't think it's carrying over into FFN. As a result, I have removed the 'Farmer' entirely from the name. I used some italics in this chapter, I hope they show up! I also made additions to the supplies tracker as the tributes received their gifts. I'll be revealing more about them, and the special bonuses, in the near future. The next chapter will be out on Wednesday or Thursday, and I hope you liked today's update!
– LC :)