Elijah massages his temples with two fingers as he glances up at me.
"Nate Alexander McIalwain…Why?" he groans.
"Because… Elijah, I had to!"
"No you didn't and you know it!"
"I can't think about it now. It's done and over with."
"You're a fucking idiot."
"I already know that!"
"Good. You should. That was totally douchey, Nate."
"It was not. It was not that bad. It was Cutter's fault."
"It was more yours," he tells me.
I hang down my head, embarrassed and upset.
"And you made Priscilla cry. More than cry."
"I don't care about that. She's just weak. At least she's alive to cry."
"I….I guess… But…"
"But what?! But nothing! It's a fight to the death, and it's kill or be killed."
"You're lucky Cliff was stupid enough to think you were actually dead. If he had brains at all he would've made a final strike to make sure, but he didn't. You're lucky you're not standing here with me. Because if Cliff had killed you, Priscilla and Cutter wouldn't have left you, and they'd be standing right to your left."
I feel completely shattered and humiliated and especially guilty.
"He saw what I did to Melanie, Elijah. He saw it!"
"That doesn't matter, Nate. Nate… Cutter trusted you, and now he's devastated."
"It's his own fault. He knows it had to happen someday, and he knew that Priscilla and I had a deal!"
"That doesn't make it right! Not even a little! You were allies, which means you protect each other! They saved you once! How could you do that to him!?"
"BECAUSE I WAS TERRIFIED OF KILLING HIM, ALRIGHT!? I WAS AFRAID THAT IF WE WERE ALL THE FINAL THREE I COULDN'T KILL HIM!"
"Finally. A confession."
I groan and kick myself for saying that. I never should've. Because now I have to live with it for the rest of the Games, and especially the rest of my life. I didn't' want to admit it, but Elijah forced me to, and so I do the only thing I know to: physically kick myself.
When I do this in the dream, I sit up with a yelp, and then my back stings and I squeeze my eyes shut, making a little injured noise. God, that really hurts.
Priscilla glances over. "You alright?" she asks.
"Fine," I snap in a whisper. There's no way she's ever going to get to find out my thoughts. She would think that I'm actually getting sentimental to these people. And even though I am, nobody needs to know it. I can easily kill off the others now, except for Priscilla, of course.
Something needs to happen that she dies, or else yes, it could mean my death. If I'm not emotionally strong enough to put a sword through her chest, then I could easily take a knife to my head.
Part of me thinks that might actually be easier, but then I remember the vision that I had the night before the Games, of what would happen if I die. And I can't do that to Cassia, especially. I can't.
Which means I have to get back alive and deal with the guilt then. But I can't be dealing with it now, of all times.
As I said last night, I get up and stretch as soon as the sky lights up, and Priscilla glares at me, obviously reliving the battle of yesterday, but soon she forces (yes, I can tell when Priscilla forces a smile, after all, we've been friends since she could toddle) a smile and sits up.
I hate seeing her like this more than anything, but I can't help it. I have people to fight for, and she just doesn't anymore. Besides, she's just a little 12-year-old. She couldn't handle being a Victor.
We roll up our sleeping bags and collect water from the stream, with tightly-linked arms. Then we speed-walk back to camp together. Both of us want to get as far away from Boeh as we can. That would be the worst way for me to lose her, I think. I dunno if I could take it, I might go after her. Then again, that would be an awful way for her to lose me, too.
Not like Cliff would be much better, but at least it sounded like a fairly quick death. Besides, something about blood and injuries really bothered Cutter in life, anyways, so it probably wasn't even twice as bad as it sounded. I might be able to leave her if we run into him again.
Maybe. If I get the strength to.
We pack up our supplies, most of which are running incredibly low. Soon all we'll have to eat is the meat that we hunted. I know that Priscilla won't kill me so soon, considering that one, she can't take on any of the tributes left on her own, and two, she can't stand to skin the animals, so she'd be out of food and starve to death.
Right now, I'm just glad I have the advantage over her all around. The only things I wouldn't have against her would be the ability to have someone dead in five seconds (God, she's gotten good at throwing knives…) and big, chocolate brown eyes.
But, I still have my innocence for apple juice on my side in terms of cuteness, and Priscilla's hands shake so bad every time she tries to throw her knife at a person that it doesn't even do anything but stun them or give them a minor injury. I've gotten good at killing with my sword.
Maybe it's not something I should particularly be proud of, but it's helping me survive, and that's all that matters to me right now.
We walk until my legs start to shake and I realize that I must not have had enough to eat this morning. I thought it'd be enough to walk all day, but unfortunately I forgot the fact that I'm carrying a heavy backpack, and that I'm injured. I have to stop and Priscilla stops with me for a very early and a very small lunch. I look around for some of those animals that we hunt at night, but there's no sign of movement anywhere around.
Melanie did find those berries, though, and I bet we could find some that aren't poisonous, but we've migrated away from that bushy part of the Arena and are currently in the hottest and driest part. So that really sucks for me, doesn't it? But I'm determined to not complain, like Azure.
You know, now that Cutter's dead, I really don't care about Azure's death, anymore. I guess I got emotional because it was the first big death of our alliance. But Cutter is now the biggest, and it's the one that hurts to most. Though it's hard for me to believe right now, Priscilla's will be the biggest sooner or later, and Cutter'll mean nothing to me anymore, just like Azure and Melanie.
And then, as soon as I get out of the Arena, all 23 of the deaths will mean everything to me, or well, that is, if I'm doomed to a fate like Platinum's. I sure hope I'm not, but that's what it's currently looking like. Well, at least I'm straight as a ruler, right? Besides, I have a sister at home, and parents who like me enough to keep me in the house, even though I've broken, like ten thousand of their items; especially vases (hey, it's not my fault that they always put it right in the way of my baseballs!), and the whole District liked me to start out with, and they'll love me if I win the Games. He had none of that, mostly because Platinum was a colossal jerk.
Priscilla and I make small-talk as we eat lunch, discussing some of our inside jokes from home and forcing smiles and laughs at memories that contain two ghosts, once again. It's a small lunch, and I insist that Priscilla and I share the food equally, when suddenly we hear beeping in the sky and a real grin comes across my face.
Priscilla stands up (I'm still sore and she won't let me exert myself too much) and jumps to get it, pulling it to the ground between us and opening the lid to see what's inside.
She pulls out a bottle of apple juice and holds it out to me, trying to giggle. I take it and thankfully drink. Then she pulls out a basket of bread and a fairly large bag of crackers. I stare at our new goodies hungrily. She sees my gaze and holds out a piece of bread to me. It's the bread from home, and I never thought something as boring as bread from District 2 would taste so delicious to me. I eat up and want more, but I get crackers instead and Priscilla puts the bread away for later. I can't wait for dinner.
Priscilla looks homesick, too, and hungry for another piece of that bread, but she keeps walking next to me, slowly. We walk and look around randomly all day, Priscilla sometimes trying to guide me and I let her, until it's getting close to evening and we still haven't found anything. She take my arm to guide me left, but I keep walking forward. She bites her lip, then follows me.
We arrive back at the bushy part of the Arena soon enough, and continue walking on. I see a berry that looks unfamiliar, so I pick it and take a look at it. I suddenly wish I could remember seeing this one at the edible berries station at training…
Well… It's purple.
And grapes are purple, too. And you can eat grapes.
"Don't eat that!" says a voice, and a little boy jumps up from his hiding spot and says, "It's poisonous!"
"Bean!" Priscilla says, happily.
He looks slightly thinner than the last time I saw him, and he's pale, with dark circles under his eyes, but still smiles brightly.
If I don't kill him now, I'll never kill him.
Priscilla is about to make another happy exclamation when I shove her out of the way and say, "Thanks for the help, Bean, but I told you that you'll never belong in this alliance and I'm a man of my word. I warned you that I would kill you."
"NATE!" Priscilla screams, "BEAN!"
I glance over briefly and see a knife flying and hitting my in the side of the shin. I hold my balance just long enough to put my sword through Bean's chest before I collapse over on a leg and he falls over, then crawls away quickly, leaving a red, drippy trail as he flees.
I glare up at her, "Priscilla!" I get the medicine from my backpack and use it as soon as I remove the knife from my leg, sneaking another cracker as Bean's cannon booms.
She collapses on her knees and buries her face in her legs before she finally looks up at me.
"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH!"
"What are you talking about?!" I snap at her, standing up.
"First, Melanie, THEN, Cutter, but HOW THE HELL CAN YOU BE OK WITH KILLING BEAN!?"
"It's a fight to the DEATH!" I say, for at least the fiftieth time.
"I DON'T CARE IF IT'S A FIGHT TO THE DEATH AND YOU AND I HAVE A PACT! IT'S STILL WRONG!"
"It's kill or be killed!" I tell her simply.
She takes a deep breath and says, in a lower but just as upset tone, "Nate McIalwain, let me tell you something. You are a fucking hypocrite!" Her teeth are tightly clenched and her voice is laced with tears, "Because you keep whining about Elijah's death, and yet you kill people with no problem at all!"
"NOT TRUE! YOU FUCKING LIAR!"
"IT IS TRUE!" she yells, "ELIJAH WAS NOTHING SPECIAL IN THE GAMES! He was a KID, just like ALL THE REST OF THEM! He's not the ONLY important person that's ever died! That boy from 12 probably had a family that missed him, too, ever think of that!? AND THEY FEEL JUST LIKE YOU DO! Volunteering was the dumbest move you've ever made in your entire fucking LIFE! What the hell do you think this is going to do for you!?"
"Shut it right now, you little twat." The anger grows inside my gut, but Priscilla doesn't stop there.
"BEAN WAS FUCKING THIRTEEN YEARS OLD! HE WAS THIRTEEN, JUST LIKE ELIJAH WAS! AND YOU SEE DILL AS A FUCKING MONSTER AND YET HERE YOU ARE, DOING THE SAME THING HE DID AND SMILING ABOUT IT!"
"I TOLD YOU TO SHUT IT!" I yell at her.
Tears flood out of her eyes and she says, "You're a fucking hypocrite, Nate McIalwain. And you've turned into a monster. Elijah wasn't anything special. He wasn't a GOD, Nate! He was a LITTLE BOY from DISTRICT 2, that NEVER HAD A CHANCE ANYWAYS! HOW CAN YOU KILL BEAN LIKE THAT AND-"
The rage explodes the moment she starts again, and I cut her off there with a loud shout, lunging at her with my sword.
"YOU'RE A LITTLE BRAT, PRISCILLA WESTFALL! AND YOU NEED TO LEARN TO KEEP YOUR FUCKING MOUTH SHUT WHEN I FUCKING TELL YOU TO SHUT IT!" I make a large cut diagonally across her face and she stumbles backwards with a loud scream and starts to cry. Her left eye sheds, tears, and her right one cries blood.
I continue, stepping on her stomach, in a dangerously low voice, "And nobody, nobody, can talk about my best friend like that and get away with it. I stab her chest and she lets out a scream very similar to the one that we heard in District 2, that day way back. It seemed like it was so much longer ago than it was.
"Nate!" she yells after me, crying, "Wait! Please! I'm sorry… Please… Please stay with me… Please let me die in your arms, at least! Tell me you forgive me! Nate…" is all I hear in the process of taking her stuff and mine and walking away from it.
A cannon rings out later and pronounces that Priscilla is dead.
And that means that Nate McIalwain is officially playing this game alone.