One moment I'm in darkness, the next I am blinded by a bright light. My eyes close tight. "Ladies and gentlemen, let the 31st Hunger Games begin!" The familiar voice booms around me. The first thing I feel is the sun on my face. It is warm on my skin. A gentle breeze touches my face and plays with my hair. I hear the sounds of birds and the chirp of insects. The air is sweet and clean. I take in deep breaths as I squint at my surroundings. The first thing I see is brown. Brown sandy dirt. I look beyond the dirt and see the Cornucopia, shimmering golden in the sun, stacked with weapons and supplies. There are not many supplies scattered outside of the cornucopia entrance. This guarantees a bloodbath. 40 seconds. I estimate that's how much longer I have before the gong sounds. I try to steady my breathing. The butterflies still maintain their hectic fluttering inside me. My mouth is dry. I can't swallow. I observe the environment. Scraggly sun beaten bushes litter the rough dirt terrain. I can smell trees. I look around at the other tributes and try to pick out my career allies. Blaze insisted that we both team up with the rest of the career tributes. The careers are nearly always the last alive. I didn't argue. I spot Blaze about 10 tributes away from me. I see my other allies. Patreeko and Cass from District 4. Both medium build. Plato and Trizzy from District 1. I gagged at the name Trizzy the first time I heard it. District 1 never disappoints when it comes to their tributes names. Plato is a monster. Well over 6 foot and covered in muscle. I spot my last ally. Daimen from district 5. I don't like Daimen at all. He has the most distrustful face I have ever seen. In the training centre, he hung around the career table like a bad smell until Plato asked him to join us. Stupid Plato.
How long until the gong sounds? Adrenalin begins pumping through my veins. I position myself, ready to sprint. A drop of sweat hangs on the edge of my nose. It falls through the air as if in slow motion. As the drop hits the plate below me the all too familiar sound of the gong sounds. There is a split second where it just resonates in my head. Then I go. I sprint. If there is anything I can do best, it's running. Already I can tell that I have the lead on the other tributes. I am nearly half way there. I catch site of a figure a few metres to my right. My peripheral vision informs me he is not one of my allies. I run until my veins feel like splitting.
15 metres. 10 metres. 5 metres. I slam into the rack of weapons, using it as my means of slowing down. I grab the nearest handle and blindly swing the weapon behind me. Blood splatters into the air. A warm drop lands in my left eye. I flinch as the boy from district 12 crashes into me, blood pouring from the gash in his throat. He was barely two metres behind me. This is the boy that - I observed through the training sessions - was nearly identical to me in build and height. He was like another version of myself, and I just killed him.
A stand there paralysed over the body for a few seconds. I look up. Patreeko rushes into the cornucopia. He grabs some cruel looking blade then sprints out of the Cornucopia and instantly embeds the blade into the back of the girl from 6 as she tries to pick up a backpack. Patreeko looks back at me and gives me a wild smile. "Come on!" He yells, "This is the best part!" I do not return the smile, though despite Patreeko's apparent love for slaughter, I do like him, strangely. I grab another blade then dart out of the Cornucopia. I shudder as more adrenalin pumps into my system. The girl from 7 sits on top of Trizzy beating her head into the ground. Cass suddenly leaps on top of the two and stabs the girl in the side with a small knife until she stops squirming. Blaze wrestles with a large boy from 10. "Blaze!" I yell. She turns her head in my direction and I throw her my other sword. She catches it with ease then hacks the boy to death. I turn to see Plato punching the boy from 11 in the jaw. The body of the girl from 3 lies behind him. Her back obviously broken. The boy from 11 makes a run for it, his broken jaw at a horrible angle. I rush towards him from the side and cut down at his leg. He screams and falls. Plato is upon him instantly. I hear a loud crack.
As I spin around looking for any immediate danger I spot Daimen. He watches in fear as Patreeko desperately fights with the boy from 7. They are 15 metres away. I run to help but its too late. The axe hits Patreeko's face. Blood goes everywhere. The boy from 7 picks up the nearest pack then runs. I look all around. I see surviving tributes disappearing into the arena. Some of them carrying packs or supplies.
Plato chuckles as he kicks a dead tribute in the side of the head. I count the bodies. Seven dead tributes. This is surprisingly low considering nearly everything of value was at the Cornucopia. I imagine the surprise on the capitol people's faces. How they expected more bloodshed. This is also not good for me, as I had hoped we would kill more tributes, which would increase the odds of my survival.
I exhale. My breathing slowly returns to normal. With the bloodbath over I can think straight. I see Blaze sitting upright clutching her leg, a nasty looking gash in her thigh. I don't remember seeing her get stabbed. She's bleeding heavily. Plato curses. "How bad is your leg?" he asks.
"I think I can walk," says Blaze. She tries to stand but groans in agony and falls back down. Plato looks down at her. No sympathy in those eyes. "Go through the supplies and make a list of what we have!" orders Plato. He is the alpha male of the group and is our leader. No one wishes to object. We go through all the supplies and are pleased with our find. "Plenty of supplies to go around," says Trizzy "and more than enough weapons".
Cass and Trizzy go about organizing our supplies. Plato stalks from body to body looking for anything useful. He mainly just finds a knife or a small pack here and there. Best to take them so they don't get lifted up when the hovercrafts come.
As I observe Patreeko's blood soaking into the gritty sand, I turn to Daimen. I notice he is wearing a pack. I get it. He was prepared to run if the fight didn't go our way, and then he watched as Patreeko was killed. He was only metre away. Just watching. "Why didn't you help him!?" I scream at him. I start towards him and stop as I feel the other careers tense up. Now is not the time to break allegiance. "Why didn't you help him!?" I scream again. Daimen's face turns into a scowl.
"I didn't think he needed help" he replies. Coward, I think to myself. I remember that there can only be one Victor. Daimen is just playing the game. I still don't like him. The way he acted so tough in front of us Careers during training, then being prepared to run away on us all. And that face is very telling. It has 'Back stabber' written all over it.
I hear Blaze scream. I turn around just in time to see Trizzy slit her throat. I stare. Plato watches unaffected. Trizzy see's my gaping mouth and spits out "She was too badly wounded. She would have been a liability to the group, I mean, she couldn't even walk. Why waste medical supplies on the dying?"
"We don't know she was dying," I say through gritted teeth.
Cass looks shocked at what Trizzy did, yet she offers no support for me. "I'm glad she's dead," says Daimen. He offers no explanation to this blatantly horrible statement. The grip on my sword tightens. I make a mental note to slit his throat.
We all move away from the Cornucopia to allow the Hovercrafts to pick up the bodies. I survey the surrounding arena. The cornucopia is surrounded by sandy dirt for about 100 metres. Clumps of foliage litter it. The rest of the arena is split into thirds. One third is thick forest; another third is an endless display of jagged rocks and cliffs that seems to go on for miles. The last third is a huge lagoon with countless rocky islands. All three parts are fantastic places to hide, and here I am, out in the open, surrounded by murderous tributes. My thoughts shift to the boy from district 12. His face. The gaping slit in his throat. My eyes shift to the drying blood on my sword. I can't get over how much he resembled me. I try to put myself in his place and begin to think how unfair it is. How horrible it is that I killed him. I then start to blame it all on the capitol, but what's the use? Patreeko is dead. The only career I liked, and so is Blaze, my district partner. We shared something because we were from the same district. Everything around me is so foreign now. I feel so alone. I feel Plato's eyes on me and I make my face an emotionless mask.