Chapter 6

A/N Another chapter down! (Yeah, I was in a play to I had rehearsal every day after school so I honestly had no time for anything but homework…sorry about the delay :/)

I dedicate this chapter to Bill and Fred, for being the best lower buddies I could ask for and for rocking those suspenders :D No matter what anyone said, I thought they were adorable ;D

(:-}D)-l- Just for you Haley

Chapter 6, Skylar Fernandez, 18 y.o, District 5

The sound of the anthem blaring in the air wakes me from my sleep. I sit up, confused. Where am I? What am I doing with my face in the sand? I look down at my hands. They are caked with dry blood. Is it mine? I can't remember.

As the faces start to appear in the sky, I run my hands through my sandy hair, trying to figure out what I'm going to do.

Kalla Rinn, District 1

Axel Blaze, District 4

Derek Matthews, District 7

Harper Sebastion, District 8

Rocky Brea, District 10

Keri Alts, District 11

Matt Steen, District 11

The sky holds the boy from District 11's face for a few moments. Then the symbol flashes in the sky and the boy fades away. Why is his face implanted in my mind? I look down at my arms and see the scars that run up and down them.

Then I remember.

I stumble through the tall grass, pushing it out of my way as I try to get far away from the fighting. I have to make it home for Courtney. She means the world to me and I don't want her to see me suffer.

My backpack feels like it weights ten more pounds than it did half an hour ago. I can't keep walking forever. The backpack slides off my shoulders and I sink to the ground. Lucky for me the bag is camouflage colored and seems strong and sturdy. I take a moment to catch my breath and then I unzipper each of the sections.

The first and largest pouch holds three things: a ball of rope, a small ridged knife, and a box of matches. The other two pouches hold nothing. I put the rope and matches back in the bag but I keep the knife in my belt loop. My family might not be supporters of the Hunger Games, but they still taught me how to work with knives.

That's how I met Courtney. Her parents owned the butcher shop in town until the mayor claimed it was a waste of time and money. Before it closed though, my father would take me there and we would borrow a few of her father's knives to train. No one else knew that we did this but Courtney and her father and because her father was friends with my father, she learned quickly to keep her mouth shut. And even though she didn't admit it, she loved to watch me practice. She denied it every time I brought it up, but I knew the truth.

We became best friends after that. Everything we did, we did together. After a few years, I finally told her how I felt about her and we had been dating ever since. Then her brother died. It was sudden, no one saw it coming. He was only ten when he died. After the funeral, Courtney shut down. In fact, she didn't talk to me again until a few days before I was taken for the Games.

I'm brought back into reality when I hear the screaming start. I bolt up and whirl around, trying to figure out the source. Suddenly District 12 girl smacks into me and we both fall. She looks at me with eyes wide in fear. Blood runs down her arms and legs, creating patterns as it falls. Before I have time to react, she gets up and sprints away, the grass making a path in the direction she fled. Was she the one screaming? I don't have time to find out.

My feet start to move faster than the rest of my body and before I know it I'm on the ground again. I try to stand up, but something holds my arms and legs to the ground. It feels as if someone took the rope from my bag and tied me to the ground with knots that only a professional could make. My head moves from side to side, trying to figure out what is holding me down. I can feel my heart beat all throughout my body. I'm going to die. Another scream rings through the air and I have the urge to scream back.

The tall grass is the thing that is holding me down. How stupid of me to think that a large field like this wouldn't be trapped.

My knife is only a few inches away from my mouth. I stretch out my neck and try to grasp the knife between my teeth. My mouth clamps down hard and I jerk my head back. I don't have much time.
Suddenly the grass tightens and I understand why District 12 was bleeding so bad. I feel the spikes come out of the grass, not one by one, but all at the same time. The scream escapes my lips before I even have to time to think. I have never felt pain like this before, not even when my younger sister stabbed me with a knife when she was three. No, this feels like someone is repeatedly stabbing me with small daggers all over my arms and legs.

I quickly grab the knife with my teeth again and I throw my head to the ground, piercing the roots of the grass with the knife. The grass screams and my arms are freed. I push the dead grass off and use the knife to cut my legs free. Within seconds I am up and sprinting in the opposite direction of 12. The grass tries to cling to me and I whip my arms around, trying to stay free.

I don't stop running until I am safely out of the grass and when I do, I double over and throw up the food I ate last night-the night before the Games. My body feels tight and exhausted and there is a sickening after taste stuck in my mouth. I straighten myself out and look around.

I am standing on a beach with water to my right. As quickly as I can, I hurry over to the water and sink to my knees in it. The waves lap into my mouth and I spit it out: salt water. Immediately I feel the effect of the saltwater on my wounds and clench my fists in pain. The once clear water around me turns red from the blood and I suddenly feel very weak.

"Hey!" I hear. I spin around and my eyes widen in fear. The boy from District 11 stands 30 yards away, two knives in his hands. He grins mischievously and twirls the knives between his fingers. "It's over 5."

I know the cameras must be on me and I think of Courtney. She must be watching me, and I bet she is crying. Anger wells up inside of me. I will not bring her that much pain.

The boy sprints towards me and I stand up, prepared. He tries to throw one of his knives and I duck, throwing mine in his direction. I don't even have to look to know I hit him where I wanted to: his head. He falls to the ground and I can hear him pull the knife out of his skull. With his last ounce of life, he throws it at me, the knife sticking into my upper left arm. I pull it out and wince, ready for another attach. But one doesn't come.

His cannon fires and I black out.

A/N I hope you liked it! Please review!

~Sophia