Oh my goodness. According to my gallery of Reviews – In a New Light is only three reviews away from 100 (that includes anonymous reviews as well) But...
HOLY COW! I was NOT expecting this response to my first story! Seriously, thank you SO MUCH, you guys! This is all you! :-)
And I want to apologize for the last chapter real quick – I realized this morning that my page breaks were missing and I panicked. I went back and changed it, but sorry for any confusion! I jumped around a lot there...heehee
Now – the Games have begun.
KPP has commenced. (Cue dramatic music)
Enjoy!
Right now is the moment I truly realize what Madge was talking about.
The moment when the tributes fall into the arena and can no longer be considered anything but animals.
I run fast – but that doesn't mean I can't still feel the fangs of death snipping at my heels. The screaming of two boys – whose names and numbers I'm unaware of – collide and wrestle violently, punching and even biting until finally, the larger one caves and breaks the others neck.
The first kill.
I shake out the image as best as I can, but the picture of the unmoving boy is burned to the back of my eyelids. And in my dazed state, I stumble over something.
Or someone.
The girl from four actually growls. Her stance is one that speaks not only of defense – but protectiveness over the backpack at her feet. She claws at me, teeth barred and snarling. She's too small to be intimidating so I simply shoot her the most menacing look I can muster and she gets the point. I collect my weapons as fast as I can but fumble them in a mess of jitters. Get a grip. But I can't. My hands are so shaky and sweaty I have a hard time picking up all the arrows. I only drop them again when a thin pair of arms wraps tightly around me in an attempt of strangulation. But they're weak. I bend down at the waist and haul them over my shoulder, flopping them on the ground. It's the boy from five – he wants my bow.
My bow.
I tower over him, scowling. He curls into a small ball and flinches – waiting for me to make the kill.
"Run," I snarl. "Now!"
He blinks at me confused. I pull my fist back like I'm about to rip him a new one and he finally comes to. He scampers away empty handed, thankful enough that I spared his life. In hind sight, I probably shouldn't have and I will possibly regret that later, but for now, I've got bigger fish to fry. I hastily gather my weapons and head for the forest.
Shrieks and cries of pain follow me. I don't turn around though – scared I'll see something that I won't be able to forget. But something does catch my eye – a small brown haired girl running the complete opposite direction from me – Katniss. And she has a bright orange back pack with her. It may not be the ideal color for the woods, but at least she has something.
And something knocks me down from behind – something heavy.
From the black hair and pale skin – I recognize him as the boy from nine. I frantically kick my legs in an attempt to shake him, but he's persistent. He really wants my bow. There's no doubt in my mind that the Gamemakers designed this package for me. The others tributes haven't seen me shoot at my best, but they know what I can do. They know I'm strong. And if I'm willing to run into the Cornucopia to get an archery set, they know I must have some secret strategy to do something so risky.
That makes them scared.
I take a swipe at him and catch his jaw. He grunts in pain, before really pinning me down. His clumsy foot manages to step on the satchel, crushing all eight arrows under his weight. Damn. Fury flashes in his eyes, and he draw back his fist, ready to strike. But he coughs on me and blood spatters my face before he flops over to the side dead – knife in his back.
I sit up and see District 2's girl, Clove, prepping her next knife – one of dozens in her hand. I hastily rip the blade from Nine's back and sprint for the woods again, nothing but a bow, a satchel full of broken arrows, and a bloody knife on me.
I'm barely passed the first line of trees when another knife zings by my head, probably shaving a few tips of hair. It sticks into the tree on my very near right and I collect that one, too. As long as Clove keeps missing, I won't need any arrows.
"Clove, stop!" I hear a low voice command. I know I'm supposed to team up with the Careers – but I think I'll wait a little white before confronting them. Two seems to be a little riled up at the moment. "Save it!"
Water.
That was what Haymitch said for me to do first.
I keep running - find myself swimming deeper and deeper into some thick greenery. In this, I'll be well covered. I freeze and look around – almost nothing is visible through the leaves and branches. I should be safe here, at least for the time being.
I review survival skills in my head. How to check for water? Was there a formula for that?
I note that the air is frighteningly dry – like it hasn't rained in a while. It smells like rain though, but that could mean a lot of things. The ground isn't telling me much. It's heavily coated in leaves and weeds and roots. I jump on it, trying to sense how damp it is. I don't sink much – in fact, it's pretty solid. I sigh in frustration. Was there a lake? A creek? A stream? They couldn't put us in this arena together with no means of water. That's just cruel, even for the Gamemakers. And besides, it would be a very short Game if they let us dehydrate. Two or three days at most.
I inspect a nearby shrubbery, checking for any signs of withering. There are none. And to be honest – it's the greenest plant I've ever seen. District 12 vegetation is typically covered in a fine black powder from the mines. It had to have rained. I sit down at the base of a large oak and catch my breath a little. My heart has yet to recover from the adrenaline and close-encounter with death. And while I'm at it – I need to take a look at my arrows.
I pull them out of the satchel and examine them closely. Most are cracked in half.
Damn.
All that wrestling for broken arrows. I guess the arrow heads are still salvageable, and I could make my own shafts –
Water or protection, first?
It's a tough call.
All I'd need for the arrows is a sturdy tree to nab branches from. I turn to inspect the tree behind me. It seems tough enough. I pry at the bark, just to check and what I find makes my stomach drop.
It's bone dry.
The bark that comes off is flakey – not chunky like what I was hoping for. The scab of wood in my hands dissolves between my finger tips like ash. The wind takes them away along with any feelings of hope.
This is pointless.
The sound of canons startles me so bad I knock my head against the back of the tree when I jump. And it isn't just one – it's several.
Eleven to be exact.
Eleven people are dead.
Only thirteen left.
Hooray.
I was lucky to witness two. And I am proud to say that none were at my hand. So...that's good? I guess.
Unfortunately, I have no way of knowing which eleven until tonight. I just pray that Katniss is fine and she got enough distance.
I wonder if she found water.
I hate not knowing.
Even though I'm hidden by thick trees, I know I won't be safe for long. The Careers will try to sniff me out before I'm ready – before they've had their cool down. I do plan on finding them tomorrow, but for now – water and protection are crucial. And it would be nice to have a weapon on me in case things take a turn for the worse.
I spend the next half hour alternating between jogging and walking, inspecting trees for a suitable source of wood. I find very few trees nourished enough to considered sturdy, but the ones I do, I strip naked and shove the contents in my satchel.
A few hours pass, or at least I think it's hours – the sun starts going down. In a panic, I realize I have accomplished nothing my first day in the arena. No water today. No weapons yet.
Tomorrow I have to face the Careers. But I'm not ready. Could I afford to push my encounter back a day? Or would it be too late –
Don't be a coward.
I have to face them tomorrow. Forget the arrows. Just find some damn water.
At the moment, I'm not super thirsty, but that probably won't be the case tomorrow. But the sun is setting really fast. I don't think I'll have time to scour anymore. I find a nearby tree – one I'm not familiar with and scurry up, perching high in a cloak of leaves. I don't feel safe sleeping on the ground. Too easy of a target. Too vulnerable. I loosen the strap of my satchel so I can loop it around the branch and my legs and tighten it, securing me in place so I won't fall out during the night. Within minutes, the sun is completely down. They must want the day to be over quickly.
If my memory proves to be true – the most hunting occurs when the day is done. It's definitely more exciting compared to daylight kills.
When the sun goes down, the monsters come out.
I find myself dozing in and out of sleep. Every time I come close to falling into a dream, I jolt awake at the sound of leaves rustling or images of the boy with the snapped neck.
But this time, I'm awakened by the smell of smoke.
Only a few yards away from the base of my tree is a camp fire.
What moron made a freaking fire? Do you want to die?!
They could easily blow my cover – I'm not very far away.
But my question is answered by the sound of laughter.
The fire starter screams a blood curdling shriek before it is cut short. It's too dark to see what happened, but I know that that scream was the last sound the fire starter ever made.
"She's dead?"
"Yeah," a sharp female voice chirps. "What now?"
"We find Lover Boy," a baritone orders, and I know he means me. "He'd make a nice addition."
"But Cato, we need water." I recognize the whiney tone of the voice to be Clove. Her voice is strained though – cracking hoarsely with thirst. It's the Careers down below who have just silenced a life. Splendid.
"Later," he dismisses. "Rest up. I'll stand guard."
They're looking for water, too –
If they haven't found it, is it possible that water simply doesn't exist here? If anybody was going to find water, it would have been them. Right?
Please find water, Katniss. For my sanity. Please.
Thankfully, Cato isn't much of night owl, and he, too, conks out with the others.
Feeling safer, I finally start to drift off, the Careers under me, a dry, cotton feel to my mouth, and a racing heart.
That night, with the smell of smoke still fresh in my nose, I dream of Katniss in a field of flames.
I have a confession.
I've never had to write action scenes before...This was my first one :P Made me super nervous. LAWL.
But well, that was Peeta's first day in the arena! Unfortunately, the way the story is going to lay out, Katniss probably won't make a full reappearance for AT MOST four/five chapters. I won't keep the love birds apart for too long. Why?
It's boring.
And to be honest, I don't enjoy writing about Peeta's mystical quest for water. Pssh, I must be crazy to not like that!
Team Career and Peeta will be forming soon!
Here's your sneak peak you wonderful, wonderful readers :-)
I'd never connected the dots before, but the timeline added up. Why she became so cut off and distant –
Why she started wearing that ring on a chain around her neck –
She never even told me.
I like Reviews. ALMOST AS MUCH AS I LIKE YOU.
Heeheeehee
