District 8

James Blacksworth

"Will Satin be back soon?" I ask Cooper for the umpteenth time today. My stomach has been rumbling since yesterday, and our food supply is completely gone. Satin went out this morning to snag us some more food, at least enough to bide us until tomorrow, when we'll have to pack up and move again.

We've constantly been on the move ever since escaping the Capitol. Satin somehow got us on a train out of the Capitol, which we rode until it stopped in District 6. It wasn't an ideal stopping place, since we were still in the middle of Panem, but at least we were far from the Capitol. District 6 isn't too heavily guarded, but we managed to get to District 12, where security is so weak, you might think they were rebels masquerading as Peacekeepers.

We easily slipped through District 12's electric fence (though, it took a few days of trying to figure out how to get past it before we realized it's never actually on). We had finally reached the wilds - although, the second part of the adventure was much easier than we expected.

Satin assured us that the Capitol probably wasn't searching for us, as we were only two rebels and a rich kid (two of whom weren't even adults), but to be safe, we should be careful. So, our life for the past year has consisted of moving around in the wilds, never staying in one place for longer than a few days.

Sometimes we go in the outskirts of the less heavily guarded Districts (never 11 or 8, or heaven forbid, 2!). Cooper and I don't really do anything. Satin goes off for days at a time, but always returns. I think he's trying to reform Die Freunde der Unterdrucken (though, if he is, I'd like to suggest shortening the name). However, Satin doesn't talk much about his plans and doesn't let us help, even when we beg. Cooper and I have been stuck at camp for a year, never anyone besides ourselves and Satin. We'd love some action, but Satin doesn't allow it.

"Will Satin be back soon?" I repeat, since Cooper still hasn't answered my question.

"I don't know, James. Stop asking."

Cooper has gotten more unpleasant in the time since we've been on the run. True, I didn't know him before, but his optimism has dropped gradually. At least he doesn't complain, though. I realize that my constant hunger and discomfort is annoying to the other two, but I can't help it. I grew up as one of the richest people in District 8; I'm used to good meals and luxurious living conditions.

Cooper is curled up by the dying campfire, his hand of cards forgotten. He has a thin blanket pulled over him. Despite the fact that it's summer, it's currently freezing outside. It's warm during the day, but at night the temperature gets low. Normally it's nothing more than an uncomfortable chill (a bigger deal for me than Cooper and Satin), but tonight's especially windy. There have also been dark clouds hovering over us for several hours, and Cooper and I are quite certain it will rain soon.

"It's cold," I mutter as another biting gust of wind sweeps over us.

"If you're going to complain, go inside the tent."

I don't move, knowing that the tent will be even colder than out here. At least we have the fire, even though it's getting dimmer as we speak.

I think we're currently in District 7, but really high, where there are barely any trees. According to Satin, we're just on the edge - where the thick forest changes into hills and District 7 changes into the wilds. Cooper and I used to be down in the valley, but then we moved up because we were afraid of rain. It caused more wind, but at least we don't have to worry about flooding. And we have a nice view of District 7, if we look hard enough. Just the forests, not the actual town or anything.

I actually really wanted to see District 7. Not as much as I wanted to see District 4, in the short time we visited, but I was still really curious. Unfortunately, Satin refused both times. He said that the only Districts we could enter were Districts 12 and 10, which have the lowest security, But we've never gotten close to 10, since it's in Southern Panem, and why on Earth would we want to enter District 12?

"Can you pass me the water?" I ask. Cooper thrusts a dirty bottle at me. I wrinkle my nose, but take it and sip water anyway.

"I miss my family," he says after a moment. I pause, lowering the bottle from my lips.

"At least you have one," I say, bitterly.

"That's the thing," he says, staring off into the distance. "I don't know if I do. They could have been murdered. They probably were. Why wouldn't they execute them in place of me?"

Cooper's voice cracks and he breaks into tears. I sit still, extremely uncomfortable by this sudden burst of emotion. I have no idea what to say that could possibly comfort him. Because I private agree with his suspicions - the Capitol don't care who they're killing, as long as they are killing. That's what happened to me. My parents were executed in place of Markus, and they tried to kill me, as well. The only reason I'm alive right now is because Satin's a genius who somehow found a way for us to escape.

The Capitol doesn't care if they kill innocent people. I don't know what they're doing now, but whatever it is, it won't be good.

Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Updates will definitely take longer, but I'm going to try and keep posting semi-regularly.

In case you haven't realized yet, Part 1 is the morning and early afternoon in the Games, Part 2 is late afternoon and the evening and night in the Hunger Games. Of course, if there's a slow morning and an action-packed evening, Part 1 will probably include the late afternoon or something so it's not super boring. Part 3 will feature one or two POVs from a character outside of the Hunger Games, not always in the night.

Also, this isn't proofread (as usual) so ignore any grammar or spelling mistakes.

Don't forget to review!

- Lilah