Response to SibunaMockingjay: Yeah, I know what you mean. I was excited to get to write Amaranth in the Games, too; just not in the Capitol-creepy way. Hope the room situation goes well! I'm also in the process of going through my entire life and boxing it up, so I feel ya. ;) I sure hope you enjoy the books when you get a chance to read them! And thanks so much for the prayers! :D
Author's Note: And now the Games begin! Just as an aside to readers, I would like to inform you that I did all the research I could to make this accurate to the book. The Games in this story will follow the canon timeline exactly, and if you haven't read the books, you may be surprised by just how long the Hunger Games are. Weeks! So if you're ever wondering why so much time is passing, that's why. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!
. . .
I never planned to head towards the Cornucopia, but suddenly the idea of being completely without supplies makes me ditch outright flight and run to the nearest backpack. I can hear a commotion near the structure of the Cornucopia, then the clash of weapons and the sickening cries of the dying. I feel like whipping around and running into the thick of the battle, demanding for everyone to consider what they're doing, but I know that would be suicide, so when I reach the bag, I throw it onto my back and sprint away.
I do not escape the Bloodbath completely unhindered. When I am only ten yards from the tree line, I run into one of the Careers. It's the girl from District 4, running past only a few feet away, but right now she's not after me. Her sights are set on the boy from 10 whose crippled leg makes his running from her almost a joke. I decide that the joke is not funny, and I will make sure the punchline never comes to be.
The girl from 4, who seems to have only grabbed the nearest weapon before going after her prey, wields a long spear, and I don't even think she knows quite how to use it. Therefore, she will have to be very close to her target to make an accurate throw. I must capitalize on this advantage, so I run as fast as I can, and since she is going the same direction but slightly ahead, she doesn't see me. When she suddenly stops to set her feet for a throw, I pounce.
My jump combined with the forward momentum from the sprint produces a pretty hard hit on the Career's body, sending us both to the ground before she has thrown her spear. She's stunned only for a moment, and in that moment I roll away and grab the spear. Then, for a split second, I have the spear pointed right toward her at extremely close range. She's at my mercy. I am breathing hard and my adrenaline is up, and I feel the need to plunge the weapon into her murderous members, but my own mind enters me before I do this, and then I spin around and sprint for the woods, feeling no small amount of shame for my intentions, however brief.
I know as I pass beneath the shadows of the trees that she will not pursue me. She'll be with the Career Pack, and so she must return to the Cornucopia for weapons and the comfort of allies. But I stay at a run just to be safe. In my peripheral vision, I see the boy from 10 pushing through the trees on my right, going a different direction, and I smile. He's as safe as anyone now.
It is only after about two hours of jogging and walking that I dare to climb a tree and look at the contents of the bag I was able to grab. The pack itself is navy blue; that's good since it will blend fairly well with the forest. It contains a plastic bottle, which is empty, a warm blanket, some thin rope, and a jar of juicy nuts. Plus I have a spear, which is sharp enough to cut very well. It's not much, but it's a whole lot better than nothing.
My strategy requires little of me except survival for the initial part of the Games, and until I run into other tributes who are willing to become my allies, I must just act like any other person would. I know water should be my first priority, so I strike out going diagonal but uphill, hoping to hit a stream that feeds the lake by the Cornucopia. The Arena may not be natural, but this is all I have to go on.
The day passes very slowly. It gets pretty warm, even in the shade of the trees, and I am reminded of the harsh reality that every drop I sweat is one step closer to dehydration. But I know if I think about being thirsty, I will only become more thirsty, so I try to get my mind on other things as much as I can.
Late in the afternoon, the cannons start to go off. I stop my trek and count how many times it fires. After eleven booms, the Arena is silent again. So eleven are dead; eleven children have already been murdered. I clench my jaws together and ball my hands into fists, angry that the injustice of the Capitol, which is somehow tolerated by the districts, has just cost more lives, and it will continue to do so for the next couple weeks. Channeling my wrath into my feet, I start walking again at a quicker pace, hoping to reach water before night falls.
I am unsuccessful. When the sun sets, I have not found any water, and the air is getting colder by the minute. I wonder if I should keep going or find a place to sleep, and while I sit down to consider my dilemma, the anthem plays and the faces of the fallen appear in the sky. I feel pain for each person as their image lights up the Arena, but there's nothing I can do to help them now. The only thing that makes me glad is that Thresh and the two from 12 are still alive. When it's over, I decide, whether wisely or not, to continue walking. I am dead tired, but to tell the truth, I am more afraid of dying from thirst than of being attacked in my exhausted state.
I go on and on, becoming more cold and stiff all the time. When I finally decide that I must stop for some sleep, I notice a sound that wasn't there before. At first, I doubt my ears, but finally I know it can be nothing except a stream. I head forward eagerly and find a small river running in just the direction I had guessed it would. I have nothing to treat the water, but I am used to drinking from natural sources, so I plunge my head into the cool water and drink as deeply as I dare.
When I've had my fill, I am most definitely freezing, so find a tall tree near the river bank and begin making a sort of nest like I used to at home. I spent so much time in the trees during the harvest that I perfected the art as much as humanly possible, and even in the Arena, my hands go about the task automatically. I tear off small tree branches and weave them quickly together, stuffing the mass between two large branches near the tree's trunk. I curl up tightly in my little nest and tuck the blanket around me, feeling pretty well. My only discomfort is my hunger, but I don't dare to take anything from my precious food supply yet.
I sleep restlessly on and off throughout the night until, sometime in the very early morning, my rest is disrupted by a faraway scream. I instinctively sit straight up even though I know that the source must be quite distant and I'm in no immediate danger. Despite my own safety, the cry of pain and terror makes my blood run cold. I squint into the pre-dawn darkness and think that maybe I can spot the flicker of a fire, but I'm not sure. If someone did make a fire, they were inviting death, not warmth with their bright flames. A cannon goes off as I get comfortable again, and I can't help but wish I had been there to smack some sense into the now slain tribute.
When the sun comes up, I decide to continue moving away from the Cornucopia but follow the river, my vital source of life. I cross the chilly water at its most shallow ford and strike out at a decent walking pace, remaining hidden from view in the tree line. I stay at this speed all morning and keep my eyes open for edible plants, occasionally finding something small to nibble on. It never satisfies my hunger, but it's better than nothing.
In the afternoon, I stay on course, but I am forced to slow down a bit. I am very hungry, and I finally open the container of nuts and pop a few in my mouth. They have a sweet taste, and I wish I could scarf down the whole box, but I am more disciplined than that. After having a small handful, I close it up and keep walking, hoping that the protein from my snack will increase my energy a little.
The day goes by without incident. I find more plants, which I either eat or gather and place into the nut container. I always keep my water bottle full, and since the river is fairly cold, I replace my supply every few hours to keep it fresh. The sun makes its way slowly into the west, and finally it sets. I haven't seen one tribute today, and I doubt there's been a lot of action anywhere else. The audience will be bored, and that doesn't bode well for the coming days.
When I have made another quick nest, I curl up to sleep as I did the night before. The anthem plays, and one face appears. This must be the girl killed early this morning. I wonder what her name was and how slowly she died. I desperately hope she didn't suffer for long.
The night and the following day are very much like the first except no cannons. I drink water, eat herbs and roots, and walk. I consider changing course as the afternoon grows old, for I had hoped to meet tributes who were alone along the river, but that has yet to happen. How can I have an ally if there are no people in the area? At dusk, I decide not to progress any further away. I will set up a more permanent camp here tomorrow and wait for someone to wander to the water.
I only sleep a few hours before my senses force me to awaken. I look around and notice nothing out of place at first, but since something feels so wrong, I climb up my tree to see over the forest. Just when I have gone above the tree tops and can look out with unhindered vision, I hear the sound. It's a strange sound, the like of which I have never heard before. I would never have guessed what it was except that I can now see its source with my eyes. A massive wall of fire descends across the Arena, miles long, and it's headed in my direction.
. . .
What'd you think of Amaranth's first days in the Games? More interaction is coming soon, I promise! Please be sure to leave me some feedback; thanks for reading!