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A three-finger salute to all of you! 3
It was madness.
I hadn't even realized I was the first one running when the buzzer allowed us to begin. Sprinting with my heartbeat drumming in my ears, I go past the first few layers of gear, making it closer to the Cornucopia. I'm about to reach for a backpack when I'm suddenly thrusted aside, rolling onto a bag of apples. My eyes widen in a frenzy and I scramble to get up, only glancing at my male attacker in a green jacket and a a chubby face. He swung to punch me, but I ran, my eyes finding the knives I desperately tried to reach.
All around me, kids ran frantically to the horn of plenty, grabbing and greedily taking. Some fought each other, others were just caught in the crossfire.
A rock flew over my head, its whipping noise making me duck and jump forward, grabbing onto a small backpack that slings over your body. I get up and look around when I see another boy, much taller and wearing an orange jacket, running at me. In his hands for a few seconds was some type of curved sword, as he thrust it at me. I moved out of the way quickly, shielding myself with the bag and the weapons getting caught in it. It didn't matter much, because I looked up to see him grabbing things and moving on. I'm about to turn away and run when I see my attacker ram into a familiar grey-eyed tribute.
Alex is grabbing a bag and turns just in time before the tall boy tackles him down to the ground. He gives me one last look, winks, and runs off into the marshy forest. A lot of other tributes are starting to disappear, and bodies are scattered on the ground. I turn to the Cornucopia and see the Careers flocked around it, fighting - well, one-sidedly - for weapons that have been taken, as well as supplies. I'm about to reach for more things to keep when I see someone cover my view of my knives. And its a fairly familiar eighteen-year old.
Fern, the girl from district Twelve looks around conspicuously, and I realize she's slipped past the Careers easily. Then she reaches for the knives.
"No," I whisper. Those were mine!
An instinct kicks in and I'm sprinting again, going straight for the bag of knives. Before Fern can sling them over her shoulder, I ram into her, pushing her down to the ground. The impact of falling on the ground over the older girl makes me realize that I've just attacked her. For knives.
Did I really just do that?
We come to our senses quickly, and meet eyes, both wide.
"I saw them first!" I say childishly through gritted teeth, and I reach over her to grab them, pushing her away. She starts reaching as well, fighting me and my arms for them.
"No way, Snow-" She says through her teeth, and her hand goes to my face, pushing me away. I momentarily falter, but muster any power I have left and elbow her in what I think was her stomach. She cries out in pain and I roll over, grabbing the bag and clambered my way out of our tangled position. She gets up just as I'm off of her, about to attack but hesitating. She turns around and runs for the marsh as well.
"Snow!"
I turn to see Demetrius running towards me. There are more bodies on the ground now.
"Demetrius!" I reply, looking around frantically. The last of the alive tributes were all either dying already or at the hands of District Eleven and Two's pairs.
"It's over," he responds breathily, "Most of the tributes are gone. The worst is over."
I look around, slinging the knives bag over my shoulder. "Where are the twins? And are you sure? There's still-"
"AHHHH!" Cybele runs past us with a spear in her hands, coming to a halt a few feet from us. She thrusts it out, and I see it pierce the skull of a young girl in a brown jacket. She falls instantaneously, and for the first time I realize that it is silent in the arena.
The careers have stopped. Everyone is gone. Bodies lay on the floor.
And sadly, one of them is one of our own.
Dezidora shrieks again, and she falls to the ground beside one of the bodies. We all freeze.
Marcel is dead.
His small frame is face down, his head to the side, with blood oozing from his neck. His new tribute clothes are drenched. His twin sister, Dezidora, is by his side immediately. She turns him over to face her, and she's shaking him. Shaking and screaming his name.
"Marcel! Marcel!" She puts him down and bends over to his chest, then grabs his head gently, searching for a sign of life.
We lower our weapons. Cybele looks away, a hard look on her face. Garrett bites his lip. Demetrius sighs and grabs more things from around the Cornucopia. Korto and Anko shake their heads, and Korto looks away. Anko stares with a look of strength.
My hand goes to my mouth, covering it as it drops in disbelief.
"No-" Dezidora whimpers. "NO!"
She lays her head down on his stomach, her body shaking as she cries, her childish sobs reminding me of the facts.
The twins are only twelve.
He was only twelve.
I make a barely audible noise in my throat and my other hand covers my mouth, knife still clenched tightly.
"Come on," A voice says behind me. It's Demetrius, handing me a backpack. "Let her grieve and we can get a move on and set up camp."
The arena has gone silent completely. The cries of frustration, fear, and determination from children are gone, only the rustling of the trees and echo of the wind remaining.
The sobs from Dezidora fill the air.
I choke back a sob from myself. I take the backpack and turn away, wiping my eyes. Once farther from Dezidora, Cybele speaks up.
"Don't tell me your already crying, One."
I look up at her from my spot by the weapons, grabbing them and arranging them, and narrow my eyes.
"Sorry I'm made of feelings, Two." I say quietly. She scoffs. Garrett breaks the tension.
"Come on guys, let's get camp up already. I'm starving."
"Starving!?" Cybele interjects, moving on, "You had a burger before we got into the arena!"
I tune out their bickering and turn my attention to Dezidora. She's sitting now, just watching her brother, staring at him as if she's waiting for him to wake up.
Her whimpering breaks again and she buries her face into her hands, crying again.
I turn to Demetrius, who has kneeled beside me and was ready to take some weapons back to the boxes inside the Cornucopia. "Maybe we should-"
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
A cannon goes off. Then another. Then another. We all look up to the sky, some anxious and others nervous. I mouth the numbers as they go after the fourth cannon.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten.
Eleven.
It stops. We wait. No more.
"Just nine?!" Garret shouts.
"It was eleven, idiot." Korto shouts at Garrett, throwing down a pack of dried raisins roughly.
"Eleven," I whispered, standing up now. Dezidora stands too, and runs to the Cornucopia. I'm a bit puzzled at why she's running, but then I hear the wind pick up and I realize the hovercrafts are here to pick up the bodies. Dezidora stops and turns back, her ponytails going with the uncontrollable wind. I look towards where she turns as well, and I see Marcel's body being picked up.
I drop the bags I now carried and walked forward, towards Dezidora, just to make sure she'd get back to our grounds safely.
She turns and looks at me, and I stop, the sound of my new windbreaker rubbing against my sleeves. She then sprints towards me.
And she embraces me.
Her arms go around my waist and her face is burried into my stomach. I feel wetness around there, and I realize she's crying.
I stagger back and look to the group of Careers behind me, and see them all staring at me in confusion. I stammer for an explanation, but am pulled back to Dezidora's attention when she starts to talk through her bawling.
"I- I couldn't save- him!" She cries into my cotton shirt, soaking through to my skin-tight under shirt. "He- he was- we were going to - mommy, I'm sorry!"
Mommy? I look down at her, confused, but she pulls away, looking up to the sky.
"I'm so sorry, mommy! I - I couldn't!"
She hugs me again, and I realize she's apologizing to her mom, back home in District Four. I rub her hair gently, putting my other arm around her shoulders.
"One!" Cybele shouts, "You have to help!"
"In a second!" I shout back at her. To Dezidora, I rub her back now. "Sh…sh…it's okay."
"No its not," She cries, "Marcel - he's- he's -"
"I know," I soothe, "I know. Come on, let's walk to camp so we can finish setting up and we can talk then. Is that okay?"
She looks up and nods at me. I fix the flyways sticking to her forehead and pull her forward. In silence amongst the Careers, we set up what's left of the Cornucopia into camp and let Dezidora sob silently until lunch.
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