"Lie to me." - Lie 2 Me by Fern

A Song for Snakes and Rats

Day One of the Games (Afternoon)

Male Tribute from District One, Chime Chaminade

I didn't mean to kill the kid. It comes, flashing back, watching the knife curve a few inches as it glides right past Eight and cuts into the boy. It's the limp, I tell myself. It threw me off my balance.

Still, they'll make me the bad guy for this. All of Panem. Killing a child first. My district will call me weak for picking off the little first. The other districts will want me dead. . .

My heart pounds in my ears as I run, brushing through leaves, slightly panicking. I didn't expect to be alone. I didn't expect Fransiska to die and for the others to desert me. I didn't expect to feel like the outers, fleeing the bloodbath for my life, tail tucked between legs.

But here I am, being chased by outers. I hear them in the distance, pursuing, but the vegetation is too thick for them to see me. It helps me, I guess. For once, the favors might be in the hunted instead of the hunters.

Sweat clumps on my forehead and I wipe away at it. Birds screech and sing around me, but I don't feel safe enough to stop. Going against my nature, I run. I keep up the pace and it's not until my lungs are burning and I can barely catch my breath that I stop. Exhaling, I look around, scanning my surroundings.

All I have is a spearhead, I realize. No pack. No water. I didn't think this through. Not at all. Frustration seeps up inside of me and I do my best to count. Blakely says counting helps. She tells me to breathe, too. I hold on to that image of her sitting in front of me, crossed legs, telling me to count and to breathe. It helps actually.

Once my breathing has steadied, I'm aware of the intense dryness in my throat. I swallow, attempting to ease the stickiness with spit. It doesn't help. My tongue feels like leather against the roof of my mouth.

I become aware then that I'll have to go back. I'll have to get supplies if I'm going to survive. But should I wait? Find my way back when there's the cover of nightfall. Of course, I can take District 8, but District 7 might be a little harder. He's bigger than me.

You're just a coward, I hear Luster's voice. And it's showing. At the thought of my mentor comes a chiming from the sky. I look up, catching sight of a flock of birds sitting on the nearby branch as the parachute descends. Greedily, I snatch up at it.

It's a flask, but as I screw off the top, a small blue vial falls out, landing on the ground. I scoop it up and stuff it into my jacket pocket. There's a note too, so I unfold it, reading.

You're going to die alone. Find the group. - Luster.

"Thanks," I say. But inwardly, I know he's right. I will die alone. Especially this early on in the Games where there are too many variables to control the outcome.

But where to start? I don't know where the others are or how many of them are still alive after the bloodbath. Surely all of them made it out. But then again, Fish Boy and his band of misfits took the horn and that can only mean that our numbers are down. Or Nascha just doesn't know how to lead. I knew she was going to get us all killed. The frustration starts to come back and this time I forget about the breathing.

Being angry might just keep me alive, I think. It might just produce the adrenaline I need to keep going.

While walking, I gingerly take sips from the canteen. I've got enough sense to know this has to last me a while. This early on you can't live off the sponsors. It'd be like charity. And no one wants a charity victor . . . not even us in One.

So what's my plan, I ask myself. How will I find the others?

There's a sudden snapping of a branch behind me and I turn, reading myself. I grip the spearhead tightly, so tightly I feel warmth. I'm bleeding. Perfect. I've sliced my hand.

But I'll have to address that later. Right now, I need to stay focus. I let my anger boil. I think about Fish Boy taking the supplies. I think about District 12 kicking me in my knee, which keeps wanting to lock. At the thought, the pain seems to come back too. And I become aware of the limp. I tell my mind to shut up like I would the weaklings in training. But it doesn't obey to me. Not like everyone else in my life does, at least.

The leaves ruffle around me and I crouch. I'll have to use the element of surprise on this tribute. And perhaps if I kill someone else more sponsor gifts will come.

I prepare to pounce.

But nothing comes out where the leaves ruffle. Instead, there's another branch that breaks behind me. I turn, facing it. My knee pops, sending a pain up my hip. But I don't move. Can't afford to. A sudden shiver slides of my spine as I crouch there, and I think, something is wrong. I have just enough sense to leap to the left as an axe come barreling through the brush.

Tribute from District Seven, Proteus Anche

I know I've missed because District One isn't screaming. He isn't lying there dead when I come sprinting out of the brush. Rahni and Denim make it into the small clearing seconds behind me. Denim leaps for where we expect Chime to be, but he isn't there. He's gone, only leaving the shifting of leaves behind him.

"We can't keep chasing him," Rahni says.

"He killed Blair," Denim says. He picks up the axe and hands it to me.

"I know," Rahni says. "But we're getting too far out. We don't want to get lost out here." She glances over at me to weigh in on the situation.

"I think we go back," I say. "He doesn't have supplies. He'll die soon enough."

"Fine," Denim says, and I can't tell if he's angry or relieved. Maybe he's both.

"We'll get him next time," I say. My voice sounds softer and maybe its because my throat feels so tight. The heat feels suffocating as we walk back, following the direction we came. Rahni is certain she knows how to get back to the Cornucopia. Without debating, Denim and I follow her, allowing her to lead. Besides, she's good at it. Leading, I mean.

Be careful, says a voice in my head. It's not many followers who make it out of the games. I attempt to shush it, telling myself that I'm a leader too, but just in a different way. It seems to silence the comparison. For now, at least.

"Shh," Rahni says. We stop suddenly. "I hear something."

Denim and I crouch behind her. I glance around, searching the trees and then moving down to the nearby vegetation. It's impossible to really know what's out here in this bush with so much vegetation towering over you. Anyone could be right around a leaf. A blade could be behind any tree, ready to kill you before you blink.

"I don't hear anything," Denim says.

"Shh," Rahni says. "It's talking. Listen."

But I don't hear anything. I lean in more, listening. Wait, I do hear something.

"The birds," the voice says. It sounds familiar. Like I've heard it before.

"Is that Tassia?" Rahni says.

"The birds," the voice says back. "They're mutts."

I glance up, noticing all the large colorful birds sitting on the branches. When we make eye contact, they flutter their wings wildly.

"Oh no," says Rahni. She turns and looks up, taking in the thousands of birds that are resting on the branches above us.

"Don't move," says Denim.

"What do we do?" I say.

"Run," Rahni moves.

"Behind you," says the voice. "The tree trunk."

I look over to the closest tree and see nothing.

"What tree trunk?" I ask.

"We need to run," says Rahni, panicking.

"If we do," says Denim. "They'll descend."

"What's keeping them from coming now?" asks Rahni. "It's only a matter of time."

"No," Denim says. "I think movement triggers them. Watch." He moves a little and the birds closest start to bounce on the branch.

"We gotta move slow," Denim adds. He steps backwards a little. "Like this. See, nice and easy."

I follow his moments, nice and easy, stepping back. Rahni is more hesitant, not moving.

"We need to run," she says again. Her voice sounds higher, tighter. It makes my heart pound, because if she runs she could kill us all.

"He's right," I say.

"I know I'm right," Denim says. I glare at him and he keeps stepping back. "We just got to get out of dodge."

"Come on, Rahni," I say. This time she moves backwards, slowly, and a few of the birds screech in response. I watch as her body tenses. As she squeezes on to her axe handle tighter. "You got this. One more step." She swallows. "I'm right here," I add. Rahni moves again, just as slow, and the birds this time seem unfazed.

"Good," I say.

"Keep moving," Denim says. I can't see him anymore, can barely hear him. I step back, moving slowly, counting to six before I take another step. And sooner or later, we're away from the threat of the birds, leaving them to the branches of the largest tree that seems to be towering above the ones closest to it.

"Thanks," Rahni says when we're finally off high alert. She looks at me. "Sorry, I lost my head for a second."

"Better find it," I say. It's a joke, but then I feel sick. Because I'm picturing Sesame's headless body on the ground.

"I will," she says. I take notice of the amount of dried blood that's covering her. Alys' blood. It's dried now and covering her from head to toe. I make a note to find some water for her to wash it off with.

Rahni resumes the lead, taking us through the brush. She tells us she's following the sun, but I don't know how much of that is a bluff. I've noticed she's good at lying. Which is slightly frightening considering we're supposed to be allies.

And of course, I know there can only be one winner. I just don't want to lose my integrity to live. But maybe I don't have a choice. Maybe I've lost a little more of it every day, what with the Parade, the getting shirtless and greasing myself up. . .

Maybe I'm losing more of myself than I thought. Maybe the Games have been changing me before today and my integrity is already gone. What would my family say of me showing it all to the world? What would they say of me killing the boy from Two? My hands shake a little at the thought of him. At his eyes going glossy to only remain open. People don't close their eyes when they die. I thought they did because everyone I've seen dead had their eyes close. But they don't. They die wide eyed. Like they're startled from sleep.

"You okay," says Denim, stepping up beside me.

"Fine," I say. "Great," I add. But it's a lie. And suddenly, I'm realizing Rahni isn't the only one whose bluffing out here. She isn't the only one willing to lie to just survive.

Female Tribute from District Eleven, Dasenia Bartlet

"Lukas," I say. He looks at his hands, both covered in some sort of brown sap. "Look at me."

He swallows, his adam's apple bobbing downward. But he doesn't look up. His eyes seem to glaze over a bit, and in the corner, I see the watering coming.

"You're going to be okay," I say. "Don't assume the worst."

"It won't come off," he says. He wipes his hands on his jacket and pants.

"We just need to find a stream," I say. I walk over to him, nudging him on the shoulder. "It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay." I say it, but we both know that it's not a certainty.

"Okay," he says. He swallows again.

"Let's go this way. See if it leads somewhere," I say. We start walking slowly. Out of all my years of watching the Games, I don't remember seeing one like this. One with so much greenery or vegetation. Luckily, I'm used to navigating around trees and other thick crops. I sort of use the same tactic I have back home. Watching my feet constantly.

There's other predators here. Snakes. Insects. Other mammals, I bet. All of which could easily be following us or lurking just in ankle reach.

Eventually, I take a break from walking, from watching my feet. There's nothing that seems too threatening, too concerning just yet. And we got lucky at the bloodbath with the Careers and Anti-Careers too busy focusing on each other to really notice us.

"I hear something," Lukas says.

"What?" I say.

"Sounds like water running," he says. "Maybe it's a river or lake."

"Lead the way," I say. To make things less serious, I try to do a funny gesture with my hands. It's silly, thinking I can make this place lighthearted. Even my singing wouldn't do nothing for the screams we've heard today.

"I shouldn't have fell," he says.

"It wasn't your fault," I say. "You didn't see the root. It happens."

"I was zoned out," he says admittingly. "I mean, I was thinking."

"About?" I say.

"Everyone who is dead," he says. "You think we'll see them again?"

"What do you mean?"

"You think we'll see them again. If we die, I mean," he says. He starts walking in front of me. "And if so, do you think they'll hold grudges?"

"Hold a grudge for what," I say, confused.

"For killing them," he says. I follow him. "Even if we're dead, too, we still killed them."

"We haven't killed anyone," I say.

"Yet," he says. He looks back at me. "You know it's only a matter of time."

I try not to think about that. About having to kill someone just yet. Right now, I'm more focusing on surviving, on finding some water than killing.

Lukas leads us through the thick vegetation. Our arms brush up against leaves, revealing spotted reptiles.

"Don't touch them," I say. I'm careful to position my body around the leaves covered with lizards. "They're probably poisonous."

"Probably," he says. We move through more vegetation, careful not to touch anything: bug, frog, lizard, anything that's calling it the leaves home.

Finally, I start to hear the sound of running water. It sounds like a fountain or a faucet running. It doesn't sound like still water. So maybe this isn't a lake, but a river. Maybe it's both, I think. I've never really seen a river before. The water back home is managed by peacekeepers and standardly comes in large clear bins.

Lukas pushes back the last of the leaves and there it is. One of the most glorious things I've seen, a small waterfall pooling into a decent size lake.

"Wow," Lukas says.

"Wow is right," I say. The water seems clear enough. As I edge forward, I notice the neighboring trees ripe with large pink fruit. "Do you recognize these?" I ask. I move towards the fruit, eager to pick one and eat it. If these aren't poisonous it'd be a great food source.

"I don't know," says Lukas. He moves over to the water.

"Be careful," I say.

"Okay," he says.

I turn back and pick one of the pink round fruits. I turn it over in my head, analyzing it. Then I realize it's a pomegranate, I think, which makes the seeds edible.

Excited, I turn around to tell Lukas the good news, but he's gone. The water left rippling.

Male Tribute from District Three, Kian Fawkes

The sun sets as I enter a large clearing. Instead of trees, there are dozens of large, tree like flowers. They're beautiful. The yellow petals flowering outward to form large golden teardrops. I try not to think about how Allegra would have liked this. I try not to think about how she's dead, killed by the girl from District One. I try not to think about her scream as I sit down, closest to some of the flowers, hoping they'll provide cover. I should probably sleep up high, not out in the open, but I have a feeling the trees won't offer much coverage from the predators that seem to lurk up in the branches.

Besides, I need to be where I can run, right? Besides, hiding up in the branches during the entire game isn't a strategy. It's just fear. You're behaving like a coward, says the inner critic. You aren't going to survive unless you get somewhere where you can observe, where you can assess the danger. I attempt to shove the thoughts away, but they keep coming. You aren't brave. You have too much fear, too much anxiety. Don't try to have courage now.

Keep being the quiet, fainting little 'll keep you breathing.

"Shut up," I whisper, and then I remember how crazy talking to myself must seem. The audience will already be betting that I'm losing it, that I'm on the verge of exiting reality.

I take a deep breath. It's going to be okay, I tell myself, not because I believe it. But because I'm the only one who is here to say it. There's no more Allegra. No more Ace. But I don't need them, I tell myself. I'm mentally strong. I've dealt with being alone. I've dealt with fear too long to let it consume me now.

So I wrap my arms around me legs, pulling them in tighter, hoping more of my body will be covered by the colossal flower. Sitting there, I think about the moves I need to make. First, I need to go through my bag, sort it, and take note of my supplies. I'll also need to drink. Stay hydrated. Because if I don't drink, dehydration will get me.

After drinking, I'll sleep. I can't afford not to. I scoot underneath the plant more. The leaves swoop down over me and I'm able to position most of myself beneath it. It's strangely calming, like hiding beneath a leafy blanket.

The sky darkens and I know what comes next. Not only the stars, but the faces of the dead. I look up, watching, waiting for their faces to come. This will be the last time I see Allegra here. My eyes blur and I attempt to blink the tears away. Then the warmth comes and I know I've failed. The tears coming anyway, despite my attempts.

A light suddenly glows above me, illuminating everything around me. Panicking, because fire is the first thing that comes to mind, I dive out from beneath the plant. Standing, I notice that there isn't a fire, but the flowers are glowing. Weird, I think as I step forward, noticing how the golden petals now radiate like sunshine.

"What is this?" I say aloud. Again, I realize how it looks to talk to yourself.

I walk closer to the petals. Touching them, there's a warmth that radiates through my body. There's also this smell. It reminds me of honey or home, I don't know. Wait, I take another sniff. No, that does smell like home. Like my mother.

I lean in closer, confused. How does this plant smell like my mother? And that's when the world goes dark and I'm jerking backwards, but somethings locked around me neck. I scream, but there is no sound. No echo.

I jerk my head back, attempting to pull it free from the flower, but I can't. Again, I scream and my vision starts to blacken. I can't breath. The petals seem to be wrapping in tighter, the world becoming darker despite all the light. I claw at the stem, at the leaves, ripping anything I can away. Panicking, heart pounding, another scream comes from me. Then I'm even dizzier. There's no air. My lungs feel tight, squeezed dry. Then there's no light. Only darkness. And I can't move my hands, can't seem to tell my fingers to scratch anymore.

All I can do is smell my mother. All I can do is think about back home before everything fades.

Female Tribute from District Two, Rowena Austel

Another canon sounds, marking seven of us dead on day 1. Casually, I look over to Nascha, who seems to be fiddling with her spear head. She won't admit it, but I know she's feeling defeated, feeling discouraged to the fact that we lost the supplies to the Anti-Careers.

"Anyone else hoping that was Chime," says Avanelle. She looks over at me, shrugs. "Just me."

"What's the plan?" I ask. Nascha looks over at me, eyes wide in the moonlight. "Are we going to hunt?"

"No," Nascha says. She gestures to my side. "You need to recover first."

Avanelle laughs. "This is a first. Careers resting on the first night."

"We need to recover our strength," Nascha says. She puts the spearhead back on the spear. "Then we need a plan to break up their group."

"Once we kill Seven," Avanelle says. "It's over."

"Agreed," Nascha says.

"You want Yorik?"Avanelle asks. Then she looks over to me. "And you the boy from Seven?"

I nod. He killed Nile.

"I'll handle Yorik," Nascha adds.

I look over to Nascha, who seems to be shaking, despite the arena being hot. I wonder if Avanelle notices it, too. Probably not. She seems more concerned with braiding her hair.

"I might beat you to it," says Avanelle. She finishes with her hair. "He's ruined us, you know?" She does a little sad pout for the cameras.

I swallow. "We aren't ruined." Avanelle turns to me.

"And people say blondes are dense." She rolls her eyes.

"We aren't ruined," I repeat. "We just have to come up with a different strategy."

"Defense," Nascha says.

"What?" Avanelle says. "Defense? We're Careers. Seriously?" She gets up, annoyed. "I'm going to circle the perimeter."

Nascha and I don't say anything.

"Maybe she won't come back," I say. Nascha smiles. She seems to stop shaking a little at the absence of Avanelle.

"One can hope," Nascha says, but her voice doesn't sound full like it did in the Capitol.

"We could do it," I say. I point to her pack. "Take that and go."

"I've thought about it," she says. She gestures back to my side. Pain electrifies my ribs when I try to shift on the root we're sitting on. I don't want to admit it, but the boy from Seven, Proteus, got me good. To be untrained, he's not so bad in combat. And I guess I wasn't prepared for that, wasn't prepared to have to fight the outers. I was just concerned about One and Four. But now, there's York and his little group. Maybe we should have taken it more seriously. Maybe we should have let another person lead. I mean, I like Nascha, but she seems lost. Seems overwhelmed.

But who else could lead? Chime. No, he'd get us all killed. Nile is dead. Avanelle would be a tyrant. Or worse, she'd kill us in our sleep when she'd finished bossing us around. So that leaves me. And I'm not a leader. I get led. I'll admit it. Sure, people like me. Or do they like me? Back home, I had friends, but it seemed I had more when I was chosen to be the volunteer.

People liked my status. They liked my parents wealth. I'm certain. But did they like me? Maybe. Yes. I don't know. But I know I didn't lead anyone. And I could have, there was a pack of them around me.

The music plays and I know it's time for the faces. First up is Nile. I can't imagine what Medusa is doing. Or maybe the better question is who is she doing. Who will she have to sleep with to get me sponsors now? All because I haven't performed well and Nile is dead on Day 1.

"Bad news," Avanelle says. "Chime's alive."

The girl from District 3 appears next, followed by her district partner. The girl from District 5 is after Three.

"Wasn't she with us?" Avanelle asks.

"Yes," I say.

"Wow," Avanelle says. "We really suck."

After District 5 comes the boy from District 9.

"Goodnight, Sesame Seed," Avanelle says.

"Show some respect," Nascha says. "He's someone son."

"Ugh," Avanelle says. "You're so righteous. It's boring."

Following Sesame is the girl from District 10. I don't know who killed her. Sadly, I didn't kill anyone at the bloodbath, which I can only imagine is making me the laughing stock amongst all my friends back home. Heat flushes my cheeks. They're probably cackling at the fact that I couldn't take out anyone, that I managed to let District 7 get away.

"Awe," Avanelle says. "The little one is dead."

The night ends with the small boy from District 10 being in the sky.

"We should probably find Chime," Nascha says.

"And ruin the girl gang," Avanelle says. She looks at me. "I say we leave him be. See if he can make it off the land."

"We're stronger in numbers," Nascha says.

"Really?" Avanelle says. "So that's why we're down six to three."

"Let's vote," I say.

"Like that's fair," Avanelle says. "You two currently share a brain."

"I say we find him," Nascha says.

"Leave him," Avanelle says.

I think about it for a moment. What would a leader do? Would they risk the group to search for one person? I don't think so.

"I agree with Avanelle," I say. Avanelle smirks. "We leave him." And when I look over to Nascha, to make sure I made the right choice, she won't meet my eyes.

A/N: Another chapter down for you all. I'm trying to wrap up this story and get it done. It's really been helping me with creativity, which I've enjoyed. Honestly, I'm just trying to finish things I start, too. It's about self discipline, I guess.

Questions:

Favorite POV?

Thoughts on the mutations? (Like last time, I'm going to let ya'll submit mutt ideas)

Who do you think warned Rahni, Proteus, and Denim?

Deaths are based on realism, plot, and whether I struggled to capture the voice of your character.

18th. Male Tribute from District Three, Kian Fawkes. Silly Little Terezi Kinnie, I really liked Kian. Specifically, I liked how he never really thought much of himself. The writing some of the internal dialogue was some of my favorite. I related to that struggle more than you know. Sadly, this is all I had for him, after losing Allegra. Thank you for submitting a character that I could relate to.