Jason Baize (18) D8M
I didn't know I had fallen asleep until I woke up. How could I possibly fall asleep in the middle of the Hunger Games? Tears flooded to my eyes the second I realized exactly how much danger I had been in. I fell asleep and could have died. It was only through an act of God that I hadn't. I had to do something, but I had no idea what I could possibly do to make myself any safer. I was in a dangerous situation no matter what I did.
A light tinkling woke me from my thoughts. Delicately floating down from the sky was a parachute, full of who knows what. I grabbed it the second it was within arm's reach, risking leaving my little nook in order to shut it up. I couldn't have a parachute advertising my location to everyone. It was a terrible idea, especially since I hadn't gone very far from the Cornucopia. I shuddered once again while I imagined the Careers sneaking up on me, knowing exactly how to kill me.
Before I even opened the parachute, I noticed how solid it was. The cloth would work nicely as another buffer between me and the ground. The box could be used to hold water or other supplies. The strings that held the cloth were solid and reasonably long. I tied them together just to have something to do with my hands, delaying my gratification for a little bit longer. I knew I needed whatever was in that parachute, but I wanted to save my happiness for as long as possible before seeing exactly what the surprise was.
Slowly, reverently, I pulled open the box. It held a small slice of cake and a bottle of water. For too long I stared at the cake, wondering why someone had sent me such boring food. Then I saw the note hidden in the box, barely peeking out from under the cake. "Happy birthday, Jason! - Mom and Dad." I was delighted to see my name. I was angry to know that the escort had probably edited their message. More than anything, I was angry. If I'd been born a week earlier I wouldn't even be here, but I got the joy of reaching my eighteenth birthday in the middle of the Games. Still, I ate the cake. I had to keep my strength up, even if all I had was straight sugar and rage.
As I put the last bite in my mouth, I heard a voice from the outside world. Despite all logic, I froze. It wasn't like I could hide any more than I was already hidden. Anyone who saw the parachute would find me. Anyone who didn't wouldn't. It really came down to luck, but I was holding my breath and sitting completely still regardless of that.
A head peeked into my cave. I screamed and pushed it out. A knife came into my cave. I curled away from it, pushing myself back against the rocks despite the cold. I was in a complete panic, latching onto anything nearby in a vain attempt to ground myself. The present that was supposed to save me was going to kill me. I was going to die. My breathing came in a panicked rush while I tried to make sense of the situation, trying to make a plan while my brain was just screaming at me incoherently.
The head came back in. For a breath I didn't realize why my attacker - a man, I slowly processed - was being so slow. Then I remembered how hard it had been for me to get into the cave. It was stupid to attack me once I was through the bottleneck, but the guy must have assumed I would panic. I did panic, but not for long enough for his significantly larger body to make it into the cave. I swallowed down my morals and moved, taking my chance to attack. I wouldn't have an advantage for long. I had to seize the moment.
I grabbed the strings. The knots were tight, thank goodness, and I wrapped the string around the guy's throat. I couldn't recognize him. Was he a Career? Hopefully not. A Career would win the fight. Was he an outlier? Hopefully not. I couldn't stand the thought of killing another innocent. There was no good answer, no happy outcome from this fight. I would be a murderer or I would be dead and I honestly didn't know which would be better.
My breath came in gasps, then it didn't come at all. The guy had one hand around my throat, choking me as I choked him. His issue, though, was that only one hand was through the cave. I put the strings in my mouth, holding them taut with my teeth and freeing my hands. And I let myself loose. I clawed at his eyes. I tried to punch his nose just to bruise my elbow when it slammed into the cave wall. Even when he let go and tried to pull back, I forced him into the cave, getting him stuck in the entrance. I wanted to let him flee but had no guarantee he wouldn't just try this attack again later. I had to win now.
I wheezed and gasped and tried to ignore my tired arms. I sobbed even while I watched the guy try to claw off the strings, doing anything to save his own life. If he'd had both arms through, he could have gotten his knife and cut them. He didn't. I was keeping him thoroughly stuck, holding him down while I sucked the life out of him. His eyes bulged. He scratched at my arms. His struggles grew weaker while he tried to reach my eyes. Finally, he stopped moving. I still held the rope around his throat. I wouldn't stop until I heard a cannon.
Finally, my ears rang when a cannon fired out. I let go of the corpse in front of me and wept. It was stuck in the entrance. I was stuck in my cave and had a cannon announcing my presence to the world. I needed a break more than anything. I desperately needed to take a few moments and calm myself down, but I couldn't afford that. Instead of pulling away into the back of my cave and feeling sorry for myself, I had to put my hands on the corpse and push.