Jason Baize (17) D8M
As soon as I was in the cave my breathing slowed. My little nook could hardly be called a cave, but for once in my life I was choosing optimism. I was cold and the rocks were cold and sapping the heat straight out of me. My dad had always told me not to rest on rocks and I had listened, but now I really had no other choice. My body froze beneath me while I shifted to keep as much of my skin as possible off the rocks directly. At least I had pants instead of shorts. At least my shirt was long-sleeved. The thin fabric did little to protect me but at least it was better than absolutely nothing.
My hands shook while I tried to remember how many cannons had gone off. It could have been three or a hundred. They merged together and echoed into each other until nothing made sense and my hands were still shaking. Nothing but adrenaline was in my veins. Or was it wearing off? I could breathe steadily but I felt like I was going to collapse inside my tiny cranny. I wanted to lie down but that would mean more skin on the ground and I couldn't afford that. I stayed squatted with just my toes on the ground and rubbed my arms, trying to keep what warmth I had in me.
I was never more aware of my body than when I had to shift. I had to keep moving just a little bit at a time to stop my muscles from getting more sore than I could bear but without falling flat on my face. I had nothing to think about but the overwhelming realness of the moment. Every nerve in my body was painfully there. I was reminded of the days when I'd yank out my hair for the crime of being there. My hands wandered to my face and I almost started yanking out my eyebrows just to have a problem to fix. Then I moved to my eyelashes and did start yanking them out, just because I had to do something with my hands. I had to pretend they were shaking because I was moving them and I wasn't panicking at all.
Only when my eyes begin to ache and my fingers found themselves entwined in my hair did I get ahold of myself. I couldn't just sit there and rip out my hair. I couldn't. There was no real reason not to since I wanted to be bald anyway and hair was worthless and didn't matter in the Games, but for some reason I knew as well as anything that I had to stop myself. I grabbed my arms, then my legs, then laced my fingers together, just to have something solid to do with my hands. I was cold and my breath kept hitching in my throat while I reminded myself not to scream just to have something to do, but at least I was done yanking my eyebrows out of my tender eyelids.
The chill kept me shaking and my calves ached from squatting, my legs kept barely off the ground. I tried to think of another way to sit but any shifting would just bring more of me to the ground, more of my skin exposed to the absolute chill of the rocks. I could shimmy out of my hole and bask in the sun for a while, but that would leave me exposed to the Careers and any other tributes that weren't feeling peaceful. Plus, it would just scuff me up again, and I'd already lost more than enough blood for one day. I only had a few light scrapes and I intended to keep it that way.
When I looked around to see if there were any cameras near me I already knew what I was going to do. It didn't matter whether or not the entire nation saw me. It mattered that I stayed warm. Still, I released a breath when I didn't notice any cameras. I slipped my shirt over my head, the chill seeping into my now-exposed skin instantly, and laid it on the ground. Then I collapsed onto it. My calves screamed at me while I shifted and then calmed down when I was finally free. My muscles released and I curled my bare chest onto the shirt, then squeezed as much of my legs as possible onto it.
The shirt didn't keep all of me off the ground, but it was better than nothing. The cold still seeped through it but not as much as it would have through only one layer of fabric. I was half-naked and half-cold, but it was better than clothed and freezing. I shivered and shook and couldn't relax. I would never get to relax again. But at least I would be able to rest for a while. I knew good and well it wouldn't be a long while. It wouldn't be hours or days. In what would likely be a very short time someone would find me and I'd have to run again, but I could recuperate just a little bit in the time I had.
Surprise I'm back! I have no concept of how many people have died and do not intend to keep track of it. The Games will end when they end :)