Droseraceae

When Meera Eastwood was a child she ran along the rooftops of District 5. Her face was just as dirty as the other forgotten children that found solace along the peaks at daybreak and dusk, but she was the fastest. Nimble and swift Meera jumped from eave to pipe, from pipe to beam. Her movements felt as involuntary and natural as breathing. The hot breeze was all the motivation necessary to keep moving…but now she wasn't a child anymore, and this certainly wasn't District 5.

A blood-curdling scream interrupted her restless sleep. A baritone cannon echoed. At first she wondered if it had all been some strange dream, but the smell of salty dirt was enough to remind her of the truth. Her eyes opened. In the night the dewy ground had hardened into crystals of ice. The hoarfrost beads glittered in the sunlight. Under any other circumstances it would have been a wonder for Meera to behold, but not like this, not now.

A sudden screech from above seized her attention. Her eyes of deep pool blues lifted to see the masked crane perched on the exact same boulder he had been the night before. Its beak parted with another call.

Move, it seemed to tell her. You have get up and move. So in reply she did just that.

The pack felt heavier than it had the day before. Her legs burned. Out on the moors the wind lashed and bit like the devil, sending quakes of cold through her body. The longer she walked the more she noticed a shadow tailing her. High above the crane was following. The moment she knelt to the shore of a long creek to fill her bottle up it swoop down for a fish. The bird barely wet its feathers as it snatched a silvery fish. In one gigantic gulp it swallowed the fish whole. Meera's stomach growled as she watched. It was the first time she could ever say she was jealous of a bird. If only she fished as well as the crane then she wouldn't be starving right now. It cawed in delight and flapped its wings.

As far as Meera knew animals would stay away from predators. She may not have been an intimidating predator to most creatures but to this stalking bird she was. Or maybe I'm even more hopeless than I thought. After all, what would she kill it with, her tarp?

Onward she walked. There was no point in running, at last not yet. Without food she could feel fatigue quickly setting in. Water could only fill her stomach up for so long. Soon she would need to forage for something substantial to fill her stomach with. While Meera pondered over the possible nutritious properties of moss dusted in swampy salt and dirt her gaze lifted to the tree line. Surprisingly, it wasn't the faces of dying tributes that haunted her dreams last night. It was the marshy tundra, the moors…it was the cold. But the harsh morning frost was starting to melt away, and with it her nightmares.

Closer and closer she approached the thicket of trees. With every step she twitched her eyes around. The risk on the rolling tundra was visibility. Surely some tributes could see her now. She pulled her hood over her hair as if to shield and bay her growing fears. It didn't.

Soon marshy tundra disappeared entirely. Low growing bushes sprouted around her, quickly morphing into seedlings and sparse trees. Although the transition from open landscape to coverage had been long, once at the trees the thickening happened swiftly. The canopy was heavy with pine and deciduous growth. Despite daylight hours, darkness dominated here. Trees grew on trees. Gnarled roots and crooked branches crawled and hung like skeletons. The only thing that remained from the region to her back was the soggy ground. Her feet sunk deep, the gooey mud squishing and slurping beneath the ridges of her boots. Reeds poked out from still waters and bogs. All around crickets whispered. There was a beauty to these woods, Meera knew, but the beauty was wicked and eerie. Every step led her further. Every rustle of leaves sent a shiver down her spine.

Hunger was starting to wear on her. Without any weapons or trapping supplies Meera was forced to scour the woods for berries, an endeavor that was surprisingly difficult. Berries didn't grow in forests like these. Near a dying tree she struggled to build a trap out of reeds and sticks but that proved to be a complete failure as well—she was able to construct a mediocre trap but the minute it was finished the pieces sunk into the wet ground and collapsed. As time went by she resorted to chewing on sappy pieces of bark. Initially the taste and texture was revolting but the sweetness of the sap made the brittle chunks go down easier. Her teeth crunched into another piece with a grimace. Her mind wandered to the apple in her rucksack.

Not yet, she had to tell herself

Yesterday there had been at least five tributes that rushed towards the forest. Meera knew the outcome of one of them—her lips paled as she recalled the quicksand—but where were the other four? She listened and looked for telltale signs of disturbances in the woods. Nothing stood out. In the dim light, under the canopy, it was hard to differentiate her own footsteps from the natural patterns in the muck, let alone someone else's tracks. The deeper she journeyed the more she wanted to leave. In passing Meera noticed trees devouring and growing over other trees, the sight made her wonder if that would be her fate if she dared to sit and rest.

In the distance a noise rattled. Her brow furrowed. Her muscles froze. Before she could make out the sound it faded with the wind. It's probably nothing. It's just a forest.

Darkness wasn't the only thing to fear in these woods. Meera knew that. A time would come when she would need to defend herself. Without any tools or weapons she was helpless. There was no doubt that the Careers had a treasure trove of brilliant steel axes, swords, and knives. Meera may have been ignorant to the ways of battle but even she realized that steel always beats rock.

Leaves rustled. Trees cracked and creaked.

After moments of silent dismay and lip gnawing she came to a stop. White breaths rose through the air as she lowered her body into the cradle of aged tree roots. It seemed as if all the growth in this forest had a slickness to it. Strange residue seeped from the bark and vegetation. Tears, she thought, the trees are weeping like the ground.

With the sharpest stone she could find and a thin branch Meera started to whittle. Stripping the bark was easy but maneuvering the stone was another matter. A few times her hand slipped and sent the sharp edge punching through her thumb. By the time she was done the makeshift spear was clasped in blood soaked hands.

Caw! Caw!

Her eyes rose, only to darken.

The masked crane was staring at her. Its beady eyes were blinking from a tree limb, a gaze that reminded her of Genero's obsidian chipped eyes. The bird had followed her miles into the forest.

Caw! It repeated. Caw! Caw!

The crane's callous song slowly transformed into some strange taunt. Meera scowled with parted lips, "Go away!" Her voice boomed through the trees. It was amazing how hollow those echoes sounded in such a full forest.

In the shadows came another rattled, but this time she barely heard it. Her eyes were glued to the crane.

Caw! It persisted. Caw!

Her bloody fingers gripped the pathetic trifle of a spear tightly. If she had a steel one she would have hurled it at the bird and made it into a meal. The longer it screeched the angrier she became. All the frustration, all the fears inside, focused on that single bird. With a growl she grabbed the nearest rock and jumped to her feet.

"I said go away!" She screamed. The rock smashed the crane in the wing and sent him flying into the sky with shrill squawks. Soon the bird's cries vanished.

Silence fell, but not for long.

Only a heartbeat passed before another noise broke through the forest—a louder noised that made her blood run cold.

A sputtering echo whistled around trees. A gust of wind sent her auburn hair dancing, every reed bowed to the ground.

What happened next was so sudden that it knocked the breath out of her lungs.

Leaves started to fall to the forest floor. Hundreds of leaves.

She turned her gaze to the only slice of sky visible through the canopy. Birds and bats were flying, swarms of them. They had departed from their limbs and nests in panic. Even the crickets had quieted. In terrified awe she held out her palm and caught a falling leaf. It dissolved into nothing in her grasp.

From deep in the shadows the forest gurgled.

Wisps of hair blew over her eyes and cheeks. The breeze smelt wrong, almost foul.

The gurgle heightened, matched with another sound this time. The sound of footsteps and screams.

She staggered back and turned her eyes to the east.

"Run!" one of the screams said.

A cry rang out.

She felt her heart jump as branches parted only a few feet away.

"Stay back!" Meera yelled.

Standing before her were two red-face and terrified tributes. They had burst through the foliage with another gust of wind. She recognized one immediately, the olive skinned tribute from District 10. His eyes wildly looked at her. Next to him was a girl. She stood a foot shorter than the boy.

"What are you doing here?! Run!" the girl's voice was high pitched. "Ru—"

Her voice cut off as something grabbed hold of her legs and dragged her back into the shadows. Branches tore and mud scraped as she disappeared with horrifying screams.

Meera stumbled back in shock.

District 10 gasped in fright, "No!"

For a split second it looked like he was going to run after the girl but instead he started running the opposite direction. Meera's eyes widened as he scrambled to her side and grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doing!?" She tried to swat him away but his grip on her was firm.

"Run! C'mon!"

A rattle of a million cries suddenly shook the entire forest. A cannon boomed.

Meera shook her head. There was no time to resist. Following this stranger was better than seeing what would happen next. Her feet stumbled over roots and through mud and water. Branches lashed her face and arms. District 10 struggled beside her.

"What's happening!?"

"It's coming!"

"What is!?"

The boy was too scared to say. She jerked her head around but there was nothing behind them, only shadows and that awful sound.

She gasped as he grabbed her spear and flung it into the woods, "That isn't going to do much good!"

Cracks and ripples simmered. The forest was angry.

All Meera could think about was the way the earth had swallowed up that little girl.

She leapt over a log and grabbed a branch. Her swing cleared the rocky brook below with one fluid motion but her boot got caught under a root on the other side. Before she realized what was happening her body fell to the ground, her hands sunk into the cold and viscous mud.

"Get up! Please! It's coming!"

Serrated breaths cut through the cold. Each time she tried to find her footing she slipped again. After seconds of struggle District 10 grabbed the pack on her back to bring her up, but just as he did something else grabbed her. She felt it tighten around her ankle.

"What is that?"

"What!?"

"My leg!" Meera shouted.

The initial jolt only pulled her back a few inches but then the second jolt came. A cry of horror roared from Meera as her entire body was suddenly dragged along the ground. Her hands clawed the earth but to no avail. She turned back and let out another yelp. A slimy serpentine vine was wrapped around her boot. It squirmed as if it were alive.

In desperation she lifted her eyes to see District 10 pull out a pocketknife and run after her. The cold water from the brook splashed into her eyes and up her nose. Rocks beneath the stream smashed into her cheekbones and jaw. Somehow in the chaos she flipped onto her back and tried to unwrap the slimy root but its grip was too tight. Roots, rocks, and reeds punched into her back. One hit her just under the ribs and sent her whimpering. All she could think of was the cannibalistic trees on her journey into this hell. Was she their next meal?

"I'm coming! Grab something! Grab anything! I can't catch up with you!"

Her eyes darted around in panic. She spread out her hands. Each time she tried to get a handle on the ground her grasp would slip away with the rest of her body. On the third try her bleeding hands anchored into a root under the mud. Pain shot through her legs and torso. The vine was still pulling on her, stretching her.

"Hurry!" she wailed. She couldn't hold on much longer.

District 10 dropped to his knees and started to saw. Noise thickened.

"Hurry!"

"Almost there…almost…got it!" As soon as the vine was cut it slithered away. Meera struggled to her feet. This time she didn't need to be told to run. Her feet sloshed through the trail.

Hissing, gurgling, roaring. The forest behind them was hungry.

They ran until daylight started to stream through the falling leaves and then they ran some more. It wasn't until they reached a clearing that Meera collapsed onto the ground and breathlessly looked back. The shadows seemed to swirl and coax, but soon they died down.

"What was that?"

The boy was much smaller than she remembered from the training room and interviews. His hollow eyes were unblinking.

"I don't know." He looked shell-shocked truthfully.

"The vine was pulling me."

"I don't know."

"The forest was alive, did you hear those sounds? The crane—it knew."

"What crane?"

Meera turned back to the shadows and wiped some mud away from her face. She had thought the forest would give her a hiding place but even under that canopy there was no relief.

What kind of arena is this? She wondered in horror. It was as if the arena itself was alive. The Gamemakers had a sick idea of what made for good entertainment.

"It's getting dark," The boy said, "We should make a fire before the sun sets."

"What?"

Suddenly she remembered herself. She didn't know this boy. He may have saved her life in the woods but that didn't make him her ally. Her eyes distrustfully lingered on his face.

"I have food," he unzipped his bag and held up rations of dried beef, "Are you hungry?"

Yes, but can I trust you?

She studied him closely. Meera was small but this boy could give her a run for her money. Somehow his olive skin looked pale. He didn't look as sick as he had in the training room but his sunken in face definitely didn't look healthy. I should say no, but I'm so hungry. Her teeth raked against her bottom lip savagely. After a few quick seconds she made up her mind.

"Yes."

He tossed a ration to her, happily she tore it open and devoured it.

They rested near a crackling fire. Although Meera was sure that the smoke would give them away the boy was determined to warm up before night. He rubbed his hands close to the flames and shivered, promising he would extinguish the fire as soon the feeling returned to his fingers. Soon the color came back to the boy's cheeks and he sighed. Meera stayed far away from the flames. The heat was nice but she was adamant about being so close to another tribute.

"I'm Anders. What's your name?" He finally asked.

"Does it matter?"

"No…" the hollowness came back to his face, "…I guess it doesn't."

She dropped her eyes to the fire and nibble on the dried beef. It tasted a great deal better than any bark, "That girl you were with—the one that—"

That made the boy go pale once more, "I found her crying in the forest. I had to help her. She was so scared and little."

Meera scratch some mud off her hands, "You barely look old enough to be 13."

"I'm 14." He glared, "She was only 12. Now she's—"

Meera remembered the expression on the girl's face when she was dragged into the darkness. "I'm sorry."

He made no response to that. She felt ashamed.

"Fire's going out," he said after a time, "It's about time for me to be on my way."

"What?"

"Smoke probably brought unwanted attention. You should leave too."

"But I—" suddenly Meera felt alone, "You can't just leave. I owe you one."

"Maybe you do. Maybe you don't."

"I do. Please—" she was begging she realized. Am I really this pathetic? To beg for a little boy's company?

He rummaged through his pack and brought out a knife and sheath. Her eyes widened at the sight of it. "Here. I saw that spear you tried to make, that won't help you. You can have this. I have an extra."

It dropped to the grass. Meera stared at it in disbelief. "Why are you doing this? Saving my life, giving me food and weapons?"

"You needed help so I'm helping you."

"For all you know I'd kill you if I got the chance."

"Which is why I'm leaving. You can't trust anyone in these games." The last part sounded like it came right out of a mentor's mouth. "But if you were going to kill me, you would have done it already. I saw you in the training room—you aren't who I need to worry about."

Meera fell silent. It was true. She had no intention of murdering anyone, especially not a little boy. He didn't sound like a little boy, however, that much was apparent. Suddenly the hollowness of his eyes looked wise. Maybe he'll do better off than me.

"Wait! The boy from my District—Faron—have you seen him?"

She had no clue why she asked the question.

"Didn't you see?"

"See what?"

For a moment he dropped his eyes. Meera knew it then…that look, she had seen it many times throughout her life. Each time it made her nauseous. "He barely left the cornucopia before—Careers were everywhere, they came in with a game plan. I saw them herd other tributes like cattle. Blood was everywhere."

She felt lightheaded, "But—I didn't see his face—when they showed the fallen tributes—" Meera had been so tired that she hadn't paid enough attention. Humiliation chocked her as she recalled Faron's childish cries when his score had been announced. He never stood a chance. I should have looked for him and not that stupid backpack, I killed him by not helping him. Selfish, selfish girl.

"Did you see it?"

The boy named Anders tried to play it off but one look in his eyes was enough to solidify that he had seen everything

"Who?" she was surprised to hear her voice cracked, "Who did it?"

"That girl from District 2. I don't know her name. I only know to stay away from all of them."

She let out a breath and closed her eyes. Anger rose in her chest. "Livia. Her name's Livia."

The bitch couldn't get her hands on me so she slaughtered Faron. A part of Meera wished the forest had swallowed her. She had never felt this way before. It felt like her skin was crawling. This was what it meant to be a tribute in the games. Loss and fear, that was all it boiled down to.

When Anders left the fire died into embers. Evening was quickly turning into night but Meera just sat there. She sat there till there was nothing glowing. She sat there until the fresh ash blew onto the grass, only then did she pick up her bag and pull on her hood. She clutched her hands together, feeling the cold set into her skin.

The whirlpool of silver stars was coming out and Meera solemnly gazed up at them. They looked as peculiar as they had the night prior. Glade had told her to survive, but at best she was only breathing. To survive she had to fight.

A memory of Livia's cruel smile made Meera's eyes dull.

It was only a matter of time before the Careers would fan out, only a matter of time before they would find her. The death count was at fifteen. That still left nine tributes. Meera's choices were few. Strength was something she lacked but she still had quickness. She needed to remember how to be fast again. Survival was as bitter as the cold around her, but this arena was a game and if she truly wanted to live to see her home then Meera needed to play.

An unnatural shriek bellowed from the haunted forest before her, goosebumps rose all over her skin. This arena was alive. There was no question about it now. Meera had been thrown into a world where the earth devours humans, where the smallest step in the wrong direction could kill you. The cameras were watching, all of Panem was watching. But tonight was not the night they would see her die…after that death would be uncertain.

A frosted breath rose from her pale pink lips. Without another thought she strapped the knife to her belt and turned west.