At the end of the first day of the 66th Hunger Games I am the only one out of the three bottom districts that is still breathing.
Lark is dead. It is weird to think about this. Earlier I wished he was and part of me is relieved that we are not going to go against each other, but having someone you know being murdered a couple of meters away from you and knowing that you didn't do anything to stop makes me feel nauseus.
I know I couldn't do anything to him. And yet… He was young. He must have brothers and sisters back home, I don't know. I tried to not learn anything about him or any other tribute so it would be easier when I had to kill them. I think it would be harder to kill someone you know than just think as a way for an end. It is easier to think of them as the pigs back home, livestock, something that dies so we could live a better and healthier life. I still think was the best choice I made for this moment.
But they are people. And they deserve at least this treatment. If I get out of here alive I am going to learn their names. And even if the world only think about them as nameless victms of the Hunger Games I will remember.
I know that they will hunt me whether I know or not. I can at least give them this cortesie.
Out of the thirteen of us that are still alive, we have the four careers, the girls from 3 and 5, the boys from 6 and 7, the couples from 8 and 9 and me. The couple from four are dead. I expected this. The boy was stupid to volunteer. There is a reason why is hard for a district that is not 1 or 2 win two or more times in a row. In theory, the previous victor district have an advantage, everyone wants to know the most recent victor and they are more likely to get sponsors because of that, specially if the games were exciting and Finnick Odair's were. The problem is that the tributes also know this. So everyone in the arena have the people from that district as the first target, because if you get them out you may win some sponsors to yourself. Unless the tribute is really strong or smart is hard for them to survive past few days, and it is if they scape the bloodbath.
If this is a "typical" Game, five of us are going to die until the end of the week, we are going to get in the final eight in less than ten days, and when we get to the end of the second week is probably going to be against two or three tributes. This can change. It depends on who is going to ally with who, if there are going to have big battles or not and a lot of other things. But I don't remember seeing any big alliance forming in the training center. They may have chose to just not include me. I am not a great ally from an objective point of view and I know this.
There is nothing I can do about it. If I am lucky my strategy worked at least a bit, the other tributes are going to target each other since I am not a threat, and this is only if they remember that I am still alive. I wonder what would they recall of me. The little girl from 10, that wears flowers in her head and got a low score. Even my interview was not exiting. There were no dress in flames nor a declaration of love. I was as shallow I could had been. Just like a capitolian.
Yes, they will not target me. Or at least they are not going to actively hunt me.
The sun set a little bit after the faces appeared in the skies. Later them it should outside of the arena. But as soon as it was out the whole forest was pitch black, there was no moon and the few stars did not make enough light fo me to see even my hand in front of me. It is scary. I was never afraid of the dark before, but standing there on the top of a three not able to see well enough to go down if I need to and only able to hear the noises of the animals that seemed so much louder now than before was a terrifying experience.
And it was better than most. I couldn't have imagine what would be like if I had to sleep in the ground, where even if my eyes were wide open I would not be able to see another tribute or mutt before it kills me.
It was hard to relax enough so my mind would allow me to sleep. But the adrenaline from before was leaving my body and the exhaustion of the running and the past life force me to a restless sleep.
Two cannons sound during the night.
I don't know if it was because the tributes were stupid enough to light a fire that in a normal arena would be easy to see from a distance and in this one it is like a bright target which anyone could spot from miles away or, and this is a much scarier hypothesis, the careers have night vision goggles. This mean I can't use the darkness as camouflage. And is terrifying to think someone can see you while you can't see than.
My legs tremble just with this thought, so much I couldn't leave the tree. Nothing happened to me during the second day. With the exception of the paranoia I seem to develop.
In the before I had grown up in a city, and I used to love the skyscrapers and even the fact that it was never quiet. Something was always happening all the time. And even if my country was known for its forests I was never inside one, obviously never alone. So I never truly realize how noisy the silence can be.
Without any other person to call an ally and knowing the fact that I could die at any moment every sound seemed amplified, the wind sings like a death parade and the small sounds of paws as the marching band. Everything contribuiting to a terryfing song.
In the dawn of the second day seeing the faces of the girl from 5 and the boy from 6 I wonder if in the end I will still be able to trust my own mind.
If I recall correctly Haymitch Abernathy has an habit of sleeping with a knive. And as I look to my own hand, my knuckles white from the strength I am holding my own throwing knive I never understood him more than at this moment.
I guess is not paranoia if they are really after you.