-Kaxee: Day 3 of the Hunger Games-
"So if I assume it has a radius of around 4 centimeters and a length of 20 centimeters, then the volume of this water bottle would be 320π." With two pointy sticks, I wrote the equation into the dirt for clarity
"Which comes out to about 1004.8 centimeters cubed: three significant figures. I guess I'll round it out to 1000 which converts into 1000 milliliters. Assuming I take sips of about 10 milliliters every 5 minutes, this will last me about 8.333 (repeating of course) hours."
Taking a step back from the pool of water, I walked into the shade of a nearby pine tree and plopped down. Mockingjays tweeting in the background, I leaned against the tree and enjoyed the peace while I had it. It's quieter here in the Hunger Games than in the noisy factory ridden city of District 9. A rare phenomenon in the district, I savored the beams of sun on my face. Gently, my eyes floated to a close.
I slapped myself across the face. "Nope, can't fall asleep, too much work to do."
I yawned. You'd be surprised how comfy bark is when you haven't slept in three days.
After taking a large gulp of cold water to wake me up, I refilled the bottle. My stomach gurgled, but I offered it more water, and it calmed down. I hadn't eaten since the first day. The small pack I picked up had a few crackers and some dried meat, but that barely lasted me for a few hours on the first day. My lack of self discipline was biting me back, now that I could barely stand up.
Legs popping as I stood, I stretched, yawned again, and picked up the satchel, empty of all but some wrappers and containers.
Placing the bottle, now coated with precipitation, in the roomy pack, I began heading (from what I could tell by the sun) westward, towards some mountains.
_
-Allison: Day 3 of the Hunger Games-
"Ow, goddam sun." The brightness of the sun burned through, projecting red colors on the inside of my eyelids. "Go away, sun. Five more minutes." Unrelenting, the sun continued.
I groaned. Scared of the full force of the brightness, I barely cracked open one of my eyelids. "Ow ow ow ow ow." Adjusting from sleep, I eyes processed darkness then redness then whiteness.
Yawning, I twisted myself, stretching out the kinks in my back. After, I untied the rope from my waist, detaching myself from the branch that I had been sleeping on. A few nights sleeping against hard bark, and my body hated me. I rubbed the spot on my skin that had scraped against the rough bark all night long.
Covering my eyes, I gazed through a hole in the leaves, to the blank blue sky. I probably couldn't have guessed what time it was if the sun wasn't conveniently directly above me.
"I slept in 'till noon. Ah, that felt good." Compared to the gentle pulse of the ocean in District 4, the forest was a lot more chaotic and noisy; I woke up like four times.
Reminding me of its existence, my stomach rumbled noisily, crying out to be fed. "Shut up, stomach. I fed you yesterday." I pulled out the water bottle from my pack.
After taking a gulp, I swished the liquid around in the closed bottle. "Sounds about half empty." I considered going up to the pond to go get some more, but it was, like, a few hundred feet uphill, and I just woke up.
"Eh, this'll probably last me for the rest of the day, anyways." After I shoved the rope into the front pocket of my pack, I stuffed in the water bottle.
Everything nice and tidy, I strapped it to myself and glanced over my side to the ground. It's about a 40 foot drop. One option was to painstakingly climb downward branch by branch, but screw that.
I rolled off the side of my branch onto the next one below me. Bracing myself each time, I descended the tree in a few leaps before just jumping from about 7 feet from the bottom. As I hit the ground, I prepared myself to spread the force equally to avoid a hard impact.
Dirt clinging to my pant leg from the landing, I brushed off the uniform, transferring the smudges to my fingers. I collected the small clods of dirt and flicked them, sending clumps barreling towards the ground.
Not content with the filling of water, my stomach rumbled again; it being used to breakfast after waking up. I wanted to deny it out of spite, before I remember that it was, in fact, my stomach and that I should probably get something to eat here soon.
In answer to my realization, the hearty smell of eggs and cooked meat wafting through the wind into my happy nose, told me one thing: breakfast time.
_
-Kaxee: Day 3 of the Hunger Games-
I held my stomach with both my hands – it couldn't really be put off any longer. I needed to eat something.
I remembered what the survival expert at training told me, and I shivered. Insects and grubs are protein rich and are filling as they are nutritious. He did seem to know what he was talking about, but, on the other hand, he also told me to drink my own urine often for survival so maybe he's not exactly the sanest guy.
The hunger had started to physically hurt. I didn't exactly want to scavenge under rocks, but at this point, doing something like that is better than starving to death. But only barely.
Pulling up the rock nearest to me, I examine what was to become my next meal. Surprised at my invasion of their home, the quicker of the bugs fled outward or downward. Luckily for me–damn my luck–one plump grub was slow to react and only began digging to safety when I plucked him from dirt. Having captured my appetizer, I held him up to face to get a better look at what exactly I was to be eating.
That was a bad idea. Queasiness swelled out from my stomach, and I got a little dizzy as I started to comprehend what I was about to do. I grabbed the ground to steady myself and took a deep breath. I looked at it once again. Small grains of dirt and sand still clung to its slimy exterior.
"Nope, nope, nope. I can't do this." Every part of my conscious mind battled against the physical hunger of my body. Though there was a small glimpse of success, the hunger won out. I had to this, no matter how gross it was.
"Well, I guess I should first get rid of the dirt." I pulled out my water bottle and undid the lid.
I placed the grub onto the rock in front of me, and tried to hold it still, but it kept wiggling and squirming to break free. Noting exactly how much water passed through the opening, I began pouring water across the grub. In tandem, I started to rub the dirt away. My finger dragged across the ridges of the tan skin which pulsed with movement under my fingertip.
A very strong shiver carried itself from my fingertip, through my arm, to the base of my spin. "Okay, that just made it worse. No more touching. No more waiting. No more thinking. I just have to do this." At least for now, the adrenaline put off the fatigue from earlier.
I pinched the grub from the rock. Evidently sensing its impending doom, it began to beat back and forth harder than ever before. Against my better judgment, I took one last look at it and stuck it into my mouth.
The wiggling only continued for a short while longer before instinct took over, and I bit down. As its contents exploded out onto my pallet, I heaved, but there wasn't exactly all that much in my stomach to begin with.
Now, I was stuck. I didn't want to swallow, but I couldn't let myself go back after all of this work, so it just stewed in my mouth. A few more seconds of panic passed, before I noticed the water bottle. Making note to kick myself later, I ripped off the lid and chugged down most of the contents, washing out my mouth of everything.
As my lips popped from the bottle, I began panting heavily, holding my thumping heart.
I wiped the budding tears from my eyes; one down, too many more to go.
_
-Allison: Day 3 of the Hunger Games-
In the unfamiliar smells of the forest, the scent of greasy meat and cooking eggs stood out prominently, leading me in a path directly to their delicious source.
Once the smell was coupled with sounds though, I began to take a little more precautions. As soon as I heard the laughing and a few high fives, I stuck closer to the ground. Breathing steadied, I crept through the trees and low bushes surrounding the clearing the Cornucopia. Finding the best possible position, I hid myself inside a thick bush and glanced through the thick cover of the leaves. I pushed the long blonde hair behind my ears and listened to what they were saying.
In the center of the clearing, two boys, idiotic career dolts probably, gestured and laughed. One, blonde and slightly thinner, placed a plate full of food down and began stretching. His hands reached towards the sky in relief.
I tensed up as second boy, brown haired and slightly bigger built, hit the blonde directly in the stomach at the vertex of the stretch.
I whispered to myself. "Did I come just in time to see them kill each other?"
The blonde flinched reflexively, but then all he did was smile and yell. "Dammit Zach. I'll get you next time." The two laughed once again as I sighed: idiots.
Not as vocal was a small girl I recognized as Shelby, sitting on the other side of the fire devouring her breakfast. She ignored the two, and stared into the distance.
Losing my balance for a moment, I fell forward. Though I had caught myself, a stick snapped beneath my hand.
Shelby's head began darting around in every direction. For split second, I could have sworn she looked right at me, but she was distracted by a sound to left.
A ginger girl with a fiery red head shoved her way through the trees, and yelled: "I found her! That Katlyn girl. She taunted me and began running this way. Hurry up or we'll lose her!" Dropping what they were doing, Shelby and the two boys snagged their weapons and sprinted off into the trees.
Perfect timing for me. Once I had waited a few moments to ensure they actually left, I ran into the middle of the camp.
The campfire still raged, blowing smoke upward, so I enjoyed the warmth and looked around for some proper breakfast. Both the blonde and Zach had simply tossed the food in the fire in the rush, but Shelby had place her half empty plate on ground, upright and waiting for the meal to resume.
As I picked up the plate, fork, and knife, I inhaled the delightful smell. Not above doing what was necessary, I stabbed the leftovers and chowed down. Wandering from the fire, I came upon the giant pile of bags and goods that had been stored in the Cornucopia.
"Ooooooo, very nice. It's not stealing if they have too much themselves." Unzipping the contents of each bag in turn, I picked a bag for storage and shoved the best into it. Some more food, a lighter, blankets, a sleeping bag, and some miscellaneous items, all went into the pack.
Shiny silver caught my eyes, wedged beneath two black cases. Grabbing the blade delicately, I admired my new prize: a spiffy new cutlass. As I was about to pack up and leave for the day, I heard a quiet buzzing.
Tracing the sound, I dug through the piled bags. When I finally found the source, I leaped backwards.
"Who the hell did that?" Under all the bags, yet in a little pocket of air, sat a jar full of tracker jackers. A few buzzed about lazily, but most clung to the lid and side of the jar, waiting to be released from the prison.
I replaced the pyramids of bags; no way in hell I was going to mess with something that deadly.
The camp thoroughly looted, and my stomach full of deliciousness, I needed to get out of there. With the full pack on my back, I jogged westward (which I could tell from my new compass).
_
-Kaxee: Day 3 of the Hunger Games-
Tired, queasy, and hungry, coupled with my thirst from lack of water, I wanted to lie down and fall asleep forever, but I dragged my legs forward.
"I've got to keep moving. I can't stop now. It'll be worth it in the end." My mind drifted back to the 'meal' I had just consumed, but my stomach reminded me that, for all that work, I had only eaten barely enough to keep the pain back.
"How far have I gone?" I tried to think back to the last few days. "My first day, I went four kilometers, I think. Then, I turned around on day two and walked three-ish, I guess, and I've walked a little bit today. So that means..." I paused to process. "I should be back where I started. That sucks."
I stumbled in fatigue and steadied myself on a nearby aspen tree. The world spun around me, but I ignored it enough to extend my arms and gingerly restart my walk. "Where am I going?"
Grabbing onto the same tree, I fell again. This time, I leaned against the trunk a little longer. My eyes fluttered in and out of reality. I meant to slap myself to wake up, but I didn't have the energy to raise my arm. Instead, I slid down the tree, bark tearing my sleeve.
My ear and face lay against the ground, feeling the damp earth.
I inhaled and exhaled, which caused an odd smell to fill my nose. I knew I must be hallucinating because could swear it was pork and eggs, just like my parents used to make at home.
To further confirm my ridiculous guess, I felt vibrations against my face. Looking up, I could see an angel, smelling of food, carrying a crudely stuffed bag full of blankets, sleeping bags, and more food. She was less than fifteen feet away from me.
But, instead of coming my way, she walked right past me.
The smell of delicious food drifted away, leaving only the smell of dirt in my face. The hope for a bed and some warmth left me as I watched the figure fade further into the forest.
"That's okay, angel." I yawned; everything seemed so fuzzy. "I'm sure you're busy." An odd sense of calm spread through my mind. "I'm fine. In fact," a smile came across my face, "I'm gunna take a nap, right now."
The cold darkness of reality faded into the sweet warmth of sleep.
"Goodnight."
_
-Allison: Day 3 of the Hunger Games-
A cannon boomed.
"Holy hell, where the hell did that come from?" My head swiveled around, trying to find out the cause of the blast. I couldn't see anything at all.
I pushed the backpack up on my shoulders and shrugged. "Well, one less person to deal with."