Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
Annabeth's POV
I groan as I reach the top of a large tree, immediately scanning the arena for an even larger tree. Great, now I can officially say the only thing I did during the Hunger Games was look for big trees. When I'd imagined what it'd be like in the arena, I'd assumed that I'd be Percy. I couldn't have possibly thought I'd be alone, desperately searching for a familiar face.
I'm about to climb down as I spot a tree in the distance. It's extremely large and not very hard to get to. If I manage to climb it, I'll be able to see the entire arena and, hopefully, have an easier time navigating throughout the arena. This is probably my only chance to find Percy.
Climbing down, I begin to have, for the first time since I've gotten in the arena, hope. It's an odd feeling; a feeling I've almost forgotten. It's almost as if that's what the arena does to you- it takes away your hope. Or maybe the arena does the opposite. Each and every little achievement gives you hope, making you feel as if you're finally on the right path. As if you're finally doing something right.
The second my feet touch the ground, I immediately begin to walk in the direction of the tree, hoping to not run into any tributes.
Annabeth's POV
After tiring hours of constant walking and heavy breathing, the tree I saw earlier towers over me, its size larger than I had realized. It's thick and heavily branched, with leaves and vines cover almost the entire top portion of the tree, which may cause a problem while I'm climbing. Nonetheless, I begin to climb the tree, stumbling a little with my footing at first. It takes me a minute to find a good pace, and once I do, nothing can stop me.
Just as I reach out to grab a branch, I hear something below me. Looking down, I see a young female tribute, a throwing knife in hand. She has long, blonde hair and looks to be around thirteen or twelve. Dirt is smeared on her cheeks and her jacket is gone, her shirt bloody. I can't see any sort of wound on the girl, so I'm suspecting the blood isn't hers. I can't help but feel reminded of my twelve year old self- determined and brave, wanting to see the world as it really was.
"Come down here," the girl commands, her voice stern. She steps closer to the tree, but there is a good amount of distance between her and me.
"Do you honestly expect to do that?" I ask, sincerely wondering if the girl actually thought that I would listen to her.
"No, but I recommend that you do. I'm not one for showing mercy to others," the girl replies, observing her throwing knife. After the girl realizes that I'm not going to budge, she laughs, "Bad move."
She throws the throwing knife, and I, given the position I'm in, can't block the knife. It digs itself into the back of my leg, causing me to scream loudly, biting my check painfully to stifle my yell.
The girl throws another knife, aimed for my head, but I let go of the tree, falling to the ground. I clutch at my leg, quickly pulling out the knife. I reach for my dagger, standing up unsteadily, my leg painfully rejecting the weight of my body.
The girl's eyes widen when she realizes that I have a weapon, but she doesn't seem alarmed. She tackles into me, knocking me to the ground. I try to find my dagger, which fell out of my hand upon impact.
Grabbing the handle of my dagger, I attempt to stab the girl in the back, but she moves out of the way just in time. The blade of my dagger sticks into the ground where the girl sat on only a few seconds ago. As I try to pull my dagger out of the dirt, the girl pins me to the ground, a throwing knife at my neck.
"I'm going to kill you," the girl hisses, pushing the throwing knife against my neck. I feel the skin break, and a thin line of blood trails down the side of my neck.
I laugh against the throwing knife, drawing more blood, "What are you waiting for?"
Before the girl can respond, I dig the blade of my dagger into the young girl's back, pulling it out painfully after a second. The girl cries out in pain before her movements still and her breathing stops. A cannon sounds in the distance, piercing through me, making me realize what I had just done. I just killed an innocent girl. Someone who didn't deserve to die. Yes, she did try to kill me, but she was doing what she had to do. What she had to do to survive, to escape this arena of torture.
I move the girl's corpse off of me, staring at the wound in her back. I did that. I caused her to die. I hadn't even given it any thought before doing so. I never even knew this girl's name, and I killed her. I killed her. She probably has loved ones who are grieving for her and hating me more than words can describe. And it's my fault that they're doing that right now. It's mine and will always be mine. It's irreversible.
I don't how long I sit there, but I spend what feels like hours staring at my bloody hands, at the tree where the girl's knife is imbedded in. I don't when the tears come, but when they do, I can't stop them. I cry loudly, not caring if anyone hears me. Athena would be ashamed, but I don't care. I just don't care.
Knowing that I have to get up at some point, I stand up from my spot in the dirt. Ignoring the throbbing pain in my leg, I walk towards the base of the tree I had come here in the first place for. I begin to climb, refusing to think about Luke, or the young girl I killed, or even Percy. Right now, I need a clear head. I need to be able to think, because if I can't, I'm as good as dead. And I won't die here. Not now, not ever.
Hey guys! I'd appreciate it a lot if any of you reading this could review and tell me what you think of the last few chapters of this story! I'm not too sure if I'm liking them, so it'd great it I got your feedback!