Laeila Carter- District Five (16)
Dynamos fight together and bleed together. I knew my brothers would be there for me.
The first package came on my second day in the Arena. All it had in it was a bottle of water. They knew that was what I needed the most, and I knew my gang wasn't exactly rich. I made it last and searched the Arena for anything I could use as a weapon.
On the third day in the Arena, the Dynamos sent pemmican. It was light, cheap, and filling. They couldn't send much, but I was used to not having much to eat. There was nothing else to eat in the Arena. We were only three days in, and ten people were already dead. Most of them probably dehydrated. I had to scoop dew off the grass every day and hope for the best. I was barely scraping along.
A week later, I got my third package. I was hoping for a spear or a big knife, but it was brass knuckles. Oh well, I thought. That's probably the best option anyway. I wasn't trained in weapons or anything like that. I did know how to punch a guy, though. That was sort of my role in the Dynamos. We had the smart guy, the strategic guy, the diplomatic guy, the guy who could get things... and the puncher. The puncher was me.
Eleven days into the Games, I ran afoul of the glow-in-the-dark dogs. I'd managed to avoid them until then, but they finally caught up with me. Honestly, I didn't think I'd make it. I wasn't dumb enough to think I could outrun a dog. It was a a stroke of pure luck that there was a tree in my path. It was so close that one of the dogs actually nipped my ankle as I scrambled up into the lowest of the branches.
The next day, I was way more thirsty than normal. My jaw ached a little, too. I hoped I wasn't coming down with a cold. In any case, I soldiered through it and went on with my day. It was hard to stay patient while I gathered dew, though. Spit pooled in my mouth as I watched the droplets pile up.
My muscles jerked while I tried to sleep. Maybe it was nerves, or maybe I was dehydrated. I tried to drink as much as I could. I was just so thirsty all the time. Only five of us were left.
I'm so done with this. I'm sick of it all. Who do they think they are, putting me in here? When I get my hands on them, I'm going to rip them apart.
My face was wet. I was so thirsty, and my face was wet. I tried to slurp up the liquid, but my throat was clogged. I wished those dogs would come back. I wanted to fight something. I wanted to bite into something and stick my hooked fingers into something's eyes.
The boy underneath me was making noise. I wanted to rip him open and spread him across the Arena. I hated his face and his stupid noises. The noises split open and stopped when his throat fell apart. I felt warm wetness on my face and tried desperately to drink it, but my throat was stuck shut. That made even more mad. I screamed, kicking and punching at his body and spreading it thinner and thinner across the ground.
My arms hurt. Blood was everywhere. I dug my teeth into the girl's arm and ripped her flesh. I felt her meat in my teeth. I was warm and wet all over. Every time she slashed her arm across me, it hurt again and I wanted to fight even more. I saw nothing but red as I tore at her with tooth and claw. Something stung me in the back, and then I wasn't mad anymore.
They told me later that I was in a coma for three weeks. It was the only way to cure that advanced a case of rabies. People don't get rabies that bad and live. They said they could count the number of exceptions on one hand, and every one of them had massive medical intervention. It was all Greek to me. I just remembered being really mad, and it all blurred. All I cared about was that I won. This was the best of both worlds. All the stuff I did- I would have done it anyway. This way I didn't even have to feel guilty.