Flashes of Gold

Chapter Five | Death, Thou Shalt Die

I sit for a few seconds before moving, just staring at her face. There's just something so familiar about her. It's something I hadn't seen before; something that might just be inside me, as well.

I shake out of my thoughts and realize that the hovercraft will be waiting to take her body away. I work quickly then, because I'm suddenly bombarded with fears of being found by the Careers. I stuff her smaller pack into my bag, fumble her jacket from her frail form, and slid it around me. There's no time to clasp it.

I take her dagger and her belt, shoving them into my bag as well. The tin can follows, along with anything else I can save. Then, I hurriedly throw snow over the fire and back up about ten feet, listening hard.

It's silent, but I can still see her as the hovercraft comes. I watch with that ever-present look in my eyes, showing no emotion except, maybe, guilt. When she's no longer laying in the snow, I see no other reason to stay in the open like this, and soon take to the trees once more. My path is soon determined, but I don't stay on it long. The evening is swiftly turning into night, and I'm forced to buckle down to sleep.

High up in the trees, I watch the remainder of the sunset. Somehow, I feel more alone than ever.

A bitter feeling claws into my heart as I stare at the empty tree. From the ground, I could see that no one was up there. The stark winter showed me that much.

I swing the lunch bag I'd brought around, twisting the knot in my hands. Though I am still peering up, trying to make sure Evon isn't there, I still hope. We had agreed to meet today, after all, and Evon never forgot.

So then there must be a reason, I tell myself. Something must have happened and he can't make it today. It's happened before, of course, but he always comes to let me know before I pack the lunch and head into the forest... Well, something must have happened. I burn the words into my head, again and again, because the doubt is still clawing at my heart. He's nineteen. He doesn't always have time to hang out with me.

After a few minutes, I still don't know what to do. On Monday afternoons, I always meet Evon up in our tree for lunch. The tradition started after I met him the first time, and somehow it stayed strong for years after. Something about how he loves my mother's cooking.

I wonder if I should go up there anyway, because I am rather hungry. My stomach urges me to at least open the bag and nibble on something, but my mind screams at me that without Evon, it would be breaking tradition. So, dead set in my ways and unwilling to change – or realize that Evon already broke said tradition – I nimbly climb the tree.

My feet and hands cling to the familiar foot holes diligently. It takes me seconds to reach our branch, but when I get there, I'm at a loss again. I want to keep waiting for him, because maybe he's been delayed at work and is on his way now, but something tells me that he won't be coming at all. Still, I sit there for a good fifteen minutes, keeping my hands away from the lunch bag.

He's coming, I tell myself. He wouldn't miss being able to eat my mother's food. He loves coming up here every Monday. It's our tradition.

But as the minutes slip by, I only desperately cling to my thoughts. I don't really believe them, but they're all I have. I'm being stupid, I whisper. So, so stupid. So what if Evon misses one day? He's got a life away from you.

And he does. He works in the forest cutting trees, from early morning to sunset. He gets only an hour break before he has to go back. Only an hour. Which is quickly spilling over.

Finally, I realize that he isn't coming. That I'm being ridiculous and self-centered. I scold myself, suddenly not feeling very hungry.

Climbing down from the tree is harder than climbing up, but it takes me only a few seconds longer before my feet find the solid ground. I'm not sure what to do about my lunch bag. It's still full, unopened and uneaten, so as I dawdle back toward the center of District 7, I toss the food to a couple of hungry looking children. My mother would have gotten angry about that, but I don't care. I'm not planning on eating anyway.

I don't know what I except to see at home. My mother will probably be doing some household chore, hanging out the laundry or beginning dinner. Calan will probably be out and about, flirting with the boys that follow her around like lost little puppies – ah, speak of the devil. Except she isn't really flirting this time, but rather locked in an embrace and sucking the face off of some poor soul.

Her shocking blonde hair is impossible to miss, even though she's backed up in the corner of an alley behind the fabric store. If only mother could see her now, I think. Then maybe she'd realize what an evil bitch she is – "Wren?" I raise my eyes to my twin's, surprised that she noticed I was there. She looked pretty into kissing this idiot boy.

I'm confused as I watch her mouth twist up into an ugly smirk. Why is she so happy? Is it because she thinks she's better because she's got boys hanging onto her every word and I don't?

My answer is given as soon as the boy turns around. There's a surprised expression on his face, which is so familiar. I stare at him, wide-eyed. Betrayal slices my heart in half. There is no mistaking that messy head of dark brown hair, or those eyes that stare heavily into me, twisted with shock and lust – lust. For my sister, Calan. It's always, always, always Calan.

I stare at her, eyes darkening. She must like what she sees in them, because her smirk widens as she twists her fingers possessively into his hair. He's trying to catch my gaze, but I refuse to look at him. If I do, I'm afraid I might cry. Already, tears are spiking the back of my eyes.

I don't want Calan to see the effect this has on me. I don't want her to lord it over me, find another way to make me beneath her. But I think it's too late, because with every second that I stand there, shell shocked, I can feel the pleasure escalating in her clear, beautiful blue eyes. Nothing like mine, I think. She's nothing like me.

My doubts hit me like a ton of bricks, curling around my insides. Suddenly, I feel sick to my stomach. I'm glad I didn't eat, because I surely would have hurled right here if I had. And then, I realize why I didn't eat. Because Evon didn't come, for the first time in years, and I just couldn't break my stupid, superficial tradition because – because...I'm completely infatuated with him. And now, Calan is well aware.

I don't know how I do it, but somehow, I turn. My hands are fisted at my sides, my nails breaking the skin. I run, anywhere, not caring about my direction. I just need to move my legs, see the colors whirl by and pretend like I'm not there, invisible, for no one to see. Because no one really does.

Somehow, I end up at the edge of the forest, in a place I've never been. The scent of pine calms me, but only so much. My breathing is labored, both from my running and my emotions. I lean against a tree, pressing my forehead to the rough bark. It slowly brings me back to earth.

At first, I can't think. All I can see if the image of Evon and Calan, curled up in each other's arms. He's her newest conquest. A toy.

I can't even wonder why he was with her. Hasn't he listened to me? Hasn't he agreed that Calan is no good? A devil, a fraud. We've talked about her so many times, spoke together about how ridiculous she is. But now, his words are poison. I try to stop myself from remembering, but I can't. My mind flashes back to all the Mondays that we spent together, up in our tree. All the evenings we spent, in the forest, or walking in town, or looking for a good tree to climb. We'd race each other to the top, try to get as far up as we could...

Somewhere in the midst of those times together, I must have become infatuated – realized how honest his smile is, and how lovely his hair shines when the light targets it just right. But it's too late now, I tell myself, and close my eyes tightly. Calan has her claws around him. She won't let go, because she knows what he means to me. Perhaps, she's always known.

My heart pounds desperately against my chest. It's screaming, thrashing. I feel sobs bubbling up my throat, and I can't even stop them from spilling over my lips. My rough lips. Nothing like Calan's.

I'm nothing like Calan. Maybe that's what's wrong with me.

I'm seriously getting sick of these stupid dreams. As if I can't remember them clearly enough during the day, I have to revisit them during the night. It's dangerous, having such deep dreams. I could fall out of my tree, or scream and alert the Careers of my whereabouts. They could be here before I even wake up.

But I'm awake now, and I can feel the dried tears on my cheeks and the panting of my chest. When did I start to cry? I slowly sit up, looking at the moon. It must be early morning, for the night still crawls around me. I'm suddenly afraid. I look around, feeling like I'm being watched. My eyes are wide and frantic, and I nearly loose my balance as I shift in my spot.

I swallow hard, shut my eyes tightly, and try to imagine the forests back home. It works for a few seconds, but then I remember my tree, and Evon, and Calan, and the fact that my District doesn't really like me all that much, and are probably jeering at me. Probably were wishing the Arena would take me since the moment I stepped into it.

I jerk my eyes open again, breathing even more labored. What's wrong with me? Am I having a panic attack? I scurry to my feet, swaying shakily before clutching to a nearby branch. There's something wrong. I can feel it in my gut. It's the reason I woke up, the reason I'm still up. Quickly, I grab my bag and toss it over me. Something is watching me, and it isn't the cameras.

My dagger doesn't make me feel any better, but it's better than having nothing at all. I want to climb higher, but I have a feeling that if I do, I'll be trapped. My gut tells me to stay put, not make a sound. But my labored breathing and the erratic beating of my heart gives away my location to whatever lurks out there.

It's a long moment before I hear it. It's the slightest shift of movement, near silent, but it pushes me over the edge. Literally. I fall down, limbs moving on their own as they swing toward the ground, grappling on whatever hold they can. My mind struggles to catch up, still laced with memory and sleep. When my back hits the ground at the base of the tree, I wake up completely. The cold snow forces me to scurry up, standing on bent knees as though ready to attack or run.

A low growl sends shivers racing through me. Is it a mutt? A big, snowy bear like the one that attacked the girl from District 4? Is it the same one?

But it isn't. At first, when I see the reflective eyes from the other side of my pine needle wall, I think that maybe my sentiment is true. But then my eyes adjust, and I can see the cat-like ears flattening out on it's head, the swish of it's long, thick tail, the curl of it's mouth, filled with razor sharp teeth... It's a bob cat, and from the way it's staring at me, I'm it's prey.

God, help me. I try to stay still, but my body isn't letting me think straight. The slightest shift on my legs send the beast after me, pushing off from it's powerful legs. It's paws are lined with deadly claws, rushing at me...

I feel like a deer, not knowing what to do. My dagger is useless against this creature. My gut tells me that it's not a normal bob cat, either. The Gamemakers will have sent something more substantial into the Arena. After all, it's just a game. A game that I refuse to lose.

My arm extends, and then throws the dagger forward. I don't know if it hit it's mark. I scurry backwards, grabbing a low branch and heaving myself up. When I'm ten feet in the tree, I pause and listen. Nothing.

But I don't think it's over. Bob cats can climb trees, too, to an extent. Mutations can do things that real animals shouldn't be able to do. I'm about to go higher when I hear it again, coming from my left. I move, but not fast enough. The claws dig into my skin, tearing through the muscles on my thigh. I want to scream, but the noise is stuck in my throat.

I cling to the tree trunk, eyes whipping around. There's a flash of grayish white to my right, but when I look, it's gone. I've got to get out of here, but I know the mutt will only follow until I'm dead. And I don't have my dagger.

I'm well aware that if I don't get out of the tree, I'll never be able to get said weapon back. My mind settles down, and my eyes scourge the ground below, looking for something...anything to use as a weapon. At first, it's hopeless. But then, I see a rock. It's large, bigger than my head, and it peeks out from the snow like a beacon. It's really the only chance I've got, so I climb down and try to ignore the sickening feeling of blood running down my leg.

I'm not really sure what's come over me as I run to the stone. It's like that moment, just before death, where your life flashes before you eyes. Only it's not my entire life, but the memories that mean to most to me. My father, Evon, the forest, our tree, eating lunch, the morning I woke up to find my father gone, the first time I held an axe and chopped my first tree down, the smell of pine, carrying firewood into the house, the mundane, childish conversations between Calan and I, before our rivalry made us hate each other...

I can hear it behind me, lurching toward me. It's in the air, claws outstretched, ready to dig into my back and tear me apart. My fingers grasp onto the smooth stone, shifting it from it's place. At first, it doesn't move. It's stuck in the cold ground. My movements become hasty and panicked. I hurry, pushing with all I've got, until finally, I rolls into my hands.

It's like my mind has shut down, and my body is moving by itself. Survival has ruled me, leading my actions as I shove the heavy stone forward. It leaves my hands, and for a moment, I'm struck with the feeling of bareness, as though I'm completely and utterly naked, without a private thought.

I'm suddenly the predator. I don't wait to make sure the stone reaches it's mark. I lurch forward, fingers closing on the hilt of the dagger that's buried deep in the creature's stomach. I force it out, bring it high over my head, and sink it back into the fur. The mutt howls, thrashing around. Claws scrap me, but it don't feel pain. I feel only adrenaline behind every movement. The dagger is taken out and pressed back in, again and again and again, even after the thing is long dead.

I can't stop. I don't feel like Wren Fey anymore, girl from District 7. I don't feel human. I'm an animal, a mutt, killing because it's the only thing I know how to do. The only thing that I can do.

And I'm fine with it. It's only after I've calmed down and feel the pains fluttering over my body that I realize what happened. And I'm overcome with that naked feeling again. Calan is watching. Evon is watching. Mother and father and District 7, all watching as I turn from a barbarian to a stupid, stupid girl. I fall back into the snow, not caring if the entire world is watching me. Not caring that I'm completely vulnerable on the ground, and bleeding and hurting; hungry and on the verge of sleep, and maybe even death.

I long for death. I stare listlessly into the sky, so dark with night. What will it feel like, I wonder, to be dead? There will be no more Calan or Evon, no more bleeding, no more mutts, no more Arena, or Hunger Games, or Capitol. Sleeping is an image of death, I think, slowly feeling myself sinking away from reality. If sleep is so pleasurable, then surely death must be as well.

If I die, I can be with my father. The girl from District 4. The people who've come before me. The image of death doesn't seem so frightful anymore... My mind finally shuts down completely, turning black as the sky above.

Wow! Thanks for all the reviews! :D I'm surprised that this story is even a little bit popular xD I don't usually write OC/OC fanfics so it's a completely new experience for me. I feel bad for the girl from District 4, too, but it would have ruined the storyline if she was kept alive. Everything happens for a reason, I suppose. I'll try to get another chapter written for tomorrow. It's sorta hard to STOP writing, to be honest. :3 I think I'm gonna start going over some of the Chapter points, cause I want to actually write something important in my Author Notes pftt Here's a few:

1. Evon's character is being explained through flashbacks. Ultimately, Calan's character will also be developed in a similar way. I'm planning on writing parts of upcoming chapters in their POVs, in order to document life back in District 7, and how the people really feel about Wren.

2. The attack from the Bob Cat Mutt signifies that the Arena is a much more dangerous place than Wren realized. She's sorta been floating around until now. I want to up the suspense and write more scenes likes that, because this is a battle between life and death and I'm not sure I'm getting that point across.

3. I keep mentioning her father. Don't know if any of you noticed. She doesn't know if he's alive or dead, so depending on her thought process and situation, he can be either in her mind. There IS a reason I keep bringing him back...it just won't be revealed for a while XD

The next chapter is something to do with the mountain. Maybe the Careers. Not sure yet. If you have ideas for the story, let me know~!