The Tributes from District Five

by Foxfacered

The District that produces power and electricity has entered 148 girls and boys into the vicious yearly event known as the Hunger Games. This story is a telling of the 74 girls from the second they are on their metal plates, to their death. (I hope that if I enjoy writing this, that I can go on to write about the 74 boys).

2. Tesla 10th place

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.

I breathe shakily then open my eyes, straining to see the amount of seconds I have left.

Fifty five.

I look behind me, knowing my only chance to survive the first night of the games is to hide from the stronger tributes who will comb the surrounding areas after the battle at what the Capitol call the cornucopia is fought.

I know not to run into the fighting at the centre and make the same mistake that Reesa, the girl from our District in the first games did. I barely knew her, she lived in another area of the urban hive but I still remember the face of Flavius as he ran her through brutally with the spear he also forced into two other unsuspecting tributes. Closing my eyes I can picture his self satisfied face as he gave a very superficial and cheery speech on how thankful he was to District Five for their tributes. I doubt he meant a word of it.

I take a shaky breath and begin to take proper notice of my surroundings, one of the first things I notice is the humidity.

The air itself appears to be moist and cloying, a large difference to the arid air and hot sun that surround my own District. It takes a while to get used to the sensation of breathing in this wet air, while I acclimatise I look to the tributes surrounding me.

To my right is the strong looking girl from District Seven with the mousy brown hair and the quiet yet firm voice in the interviews, eyes set on an axe balanced against the wall of the cornucopia. To my left is the small boy from District One who scarcely said anything during the interviews and what he did had to be coaxed out by the host, Augustus Flickerman which ended up as a stuttering mess.

I nod to myself and chance another look at the timer.

Thirty eight.

I look behind me and see a wide expanse of thick trees coloured a verdant green, with soft animal calls and birds chirping coming from deep within. It would be a risk with the animals, but it would be my best hope as the lake to the right of the cornucopia and the prairie to the left and behind are either too open or will attract too many tributes.

I take another deep breath, sucking in a lungful of the wet air as it clings to my throat. I attempt not to panic, as I know if I do that is what will get me killed. Like it got Reesa killed, if she hadn't panicked and hesitated she would have been away from the cornucopia and in the woodland before Flavius had a chance to essentially gut her.

Twenty two seconds left.

I eye what I can quickly dash to and grasp; a brown backpack, a bag of green apples, an empty canteen and some rope. I think if I can grab a few of the things in my immediate vicinity and flee to the jungle behind me I can survive in there for a while, like the boy from District Nine did. Using this method he managed to get into the final eight with a training score of three. Of course on the second last day of the Games he was hacked to death with a machete by the District Two girl, however I shall cross that bridge when I reach it.

Seventeen seconds.

I breath deeply, don't panic; that's what got Reesa gutted.

Oh, that was awful.

And then with our male tribute named Watt, being viciously stabbed in the back repeatedly by the girl from District Four.

I breath deeply, eyeing a dagger glinting in the light on the rack situated at the outside of the cornucopia. The dagger is really my only hope, they were the only thing weapon I could use and even then I was mediocre at it; only achieving a five in my training score.

I shake my head. No. Grab the pack, canteen and apples then run as fast as you can to the expanse of jungle behind you.

I nod my head hesitantly, most likely appearing rather strange on the screens, I nervously thumb my

honey blonde braid as the verbal countdown begins before dropping it quickly as if it were an old high voltage cable.

Five seconds.

I focus on the nearest object, the apples and get into a sprinting position.

Three...

Two...

One...

I dash from my plate as fast as I can, scooping up the apples as quickly as possible without coming to a halt and then I run forwards a few feet to grab the backpack. I look to my right in order to catch a view of the canteen and then lunge towards it, feebly elbowing the girl from District Twelve out of my way as she moved in on the general area. I take the canteen then dash back a few feet, watching her run after some other items and then fleeing back to the jungle.

The screams have started now, the faster and stronger tributes having reached the cornucopia. I watch just in time to see the District Seven boy reaching for an axe, being tripped by the boy from District Four and then stabbed through the chest with a sharp, curved sword.

I turn my back on the screams then, fleeing to the jungle and angling myself so that I'm not following the girl from District Twelves path.

I run as fast as I can into the undergrowth, the thickness of the trees giving me a surprising amount of cover as I dash in a horizontal line so as to make sure I don't run into Twelve's path. My muscles ache and I slow down to a jog, which I manage to keep up for another ten minutes or so; living in District Five makes it hard to build up any sort of stamina.

After the ten minutes of running I come to a halt, catching my breath for a few minutes. I take the rest to place the apples in my backpack, not having time to see what else is in it and putting my canteen in the side of the backpack where there's a pouch. The screams and shouts from the cornucopia have halted now, whether I have outran them or it's over I'm unsure of. I place the backpack on my back, look around once or twice and then begin to move again.

I start walking at a more leisurely pace, although it is fairly quickly. My throat is already parched from the small amount of running I've done, but it would have been worse if I had been running in more arid air. With this in mind, as I walk I look around for signs of water the animal calls I heard when at the cornucopia and still hear now means there must be some source of water somewhere.

My thoughts are interrupted by the start of the cannons, I jump at first and then whirl around counting the number of cannons. I count twelve and I smile softly, although it is sad for their families another dead tribute means another step closer to home.

I stumble around for hours, breathing deeply and hurriedly as I begin to panic. The girl from District Three and the District Ten boy from last year both died from dehydration, having being unable to find another water source that other, stronger tributes had not been using.

The cornucopia. There was a shimmering blue lake there, from what I remember.

I halt and look back the way I came, I could sneak back to the cornucopia and use the lake there, it would be very dangerous but I'm fairly sure the stronger tributes will be hunting for the weaker ones, like me now. This means that they are more likely to be in this jungle than at the lake.

I chew my lip before nodding my head and setting my jaw.

I begin walking back the way I came, taking my braid again and playing with it as I do when I am nervous. All the while while I'm walking I listen carefully, although the constant twittering of birds makes it hard to pick out individual noises.

I jog back as stealthily as I can, which when I think about it is about as stealthy as one of District Ten's cows running through District Five's main hydroelectric dam.

As I reach towards the break in the jungle where the cornucopia after jogging for about forty minutes I slow down, quietly putting my left foot in front of my right, so that I am half in and half out of the jungle. I look to the right of the cornucopia and eye the beautiful turquoise waters of the lake and disappear into the jungle once more.

I reason that, although it is longer it would be safer in the jungle rather than the grassland that surrounds the cornucopia as in the grassland there is nowhere to hide and I would be visible from the other side of the jungle as well as the prairie. Also, while I'm in the jungle I can refrain from being heard due to the loud chattering of the birds.

I walk along the edge of the jungle, unable to be seen but I'm also able to see the lake so that I know which path to take. I take extra care around parts of the jungle that have bent and twisted plants, as it could mean a tribute has gone in that direction.

After around an hour of skulking through the trees I make it to the lake. I get as close to the water as I can without leaving the safety of the jungle, and then prepare my canteen. As soon as I do that I dart to the waters edge and fill my canteen to the brim, doing the top again and sprinting back to the cover of the jungle. I take off my backpack and rifle through it, hoping that within it is some iodine, having learned the dangers of untreated water in the training centre.

I appear to have some luck, there being a small bottle of iodine inside the backpack, I quickly unscrew the top and place in a couple of drops before sealing up both the top and the iodine and then placing them carefully into my backpack. After doing this I set off to find a tree to stay in, much like the boy from District Nine did in the previous games.

I find a tree with low enough branches but has enough cover to conceal the upper branches from the ground. I grip one of the lower branches and pull myself up, then repeating the same thing and doing it again. Once I find a rhythm it is marginally easier, although it is definitely draining my energy and making me thirst for water more.

After around thirty minutes of tree climbing, during which I had to stop frequently I reach a high enough position that I can see the sky from the trees canopy. Once I climb out onto a thick and sturdy branch I sit there, holding onto the trunk for balancing and take out my backpack. I fiddle with the zipper and take out the canteen, unscrewing the cap and drinking around half of it greedily.

It quenches my thirst, however I know it will soon return. I decide to take this lull in activity to search around my backpack and see what I gained at the cornucopia.

I am just placing the canteen by my side when I hear the cannon boom, signalling the death of another tribute. Thirteen gone, meaning that already half of the tributes have been killed. I feel a pang of sadness for my own District partner, Static. I know it is foolish for me to hope that he survived due to him being a short twelve year old with barely any muscle who scored a two in the training scores. I sigh and lean my head back against the trunk.

It takes me a minute to leave my stupor. I shake my head vigorously, my now messy braid swishing from two and fro as I look into my backpack. I pull out the things as I see them; a smaller brown canteen, a needle, a small yet warm looking blanket and a packet of dried fruit. I frown at my spoils, I was hoping for some weapons. Although the dried fruit with the apples as well as now having two canteens means I can stay hidden up in trees for longer then I had originally hoped for.

I close my eyes only to be woken by what seems like minutes later although in actuality it is most likely hours by the Capitol's anthem music playing. I shiver; the gamemakers must have altered the temperatures to make it colder at night so I reach for my blanket and wrap myself in it. Satisfied, I look to the sky to see the tributes who died, I find myself hoping foolishly that most of the stronger ones are dead.

The first face I see in the sky is the District One boy, the small child who stood on the plate next to me. He's followed by both of the tributes from District Three, with them both having grey and pallid skin and the same dark curly hair they could be related. The girl looks young too, but older than the District One boy. Next comes Static, and I blink away tears. I barely knew him, but he was kind during training and he was also a connection to home but we both knew that he didn't have much of a chance of winning. Following him comes the girl from District Six whose name I vaguely remember as being something along the lines of Arva, her vibrant red hair stood out from the moment she stood on the stage at the Reaping and led me to remembering her interview as well. She came across as being very intelligent as well as being rather sneaky, so it comes as quite a shock that she died on day one. The boy from District Seven, whose death I had already witnessed was dead, as well as both of the tributes from District Eight who both also had the same hair and skin tone; being fairly pallid with chestnut brown hair. The girls from Districts Nine and Ten were also dead, as well as both of the tributes from District Eleven and the small, scrawny fourteen year old from District Twelve. I guess the girl who ran into the forest made it.

I purse my lips and pack everything exceeding my blanket it into my backpack which I then put on my back, but not before taking a swig of my canteen which I then place in its pouch. I settle myself as comfortably as I can and attempting not to remember that by being atleast twenty feet up if I fall now would be certain death.

I wake up to a pain in my stomach. A pain I know too well. Hunger. I huff and then take my backpack and unzip it, retrieving an apple which I am then content to munch on for the next few minutes, core and all. The juice from the apple also acts to soothe my throat, which until then was feeling as dry as it was the night before. I shudder at the thought of slowly dying from dehydration, the headaches, the hallucinations and the pain of your throat as your body begs for water. Although, is that really worse than the other option? Being hacked to death by the monster of a boy from District Four?

I sigh, that was not a nice thought to begin my day with. I take my canteen and take a sip from it and looking down the tree at the branches, assessing my route down. I place the backpack on my back and begin the long descent down, which is not as tiring as yesterday, after I miraculously got a good rest last night.

It takes around twenty minutes to get down, which is shorter than it took to get up, or maybe I'm just learning the route better. I smirks slightly at the thought and skulk my way in the direction of the lake while I quietly taking both of my canteens out of my backpack and unscrewing the lid.

Once I reach the jungles edge I peer around for any tributes, although it's unlikely there are any still so close to the cornucopia, from what I learnt last year most of the tributes fled as far as they could while some of the stronger and less moral ones picked them off one by one; if dehydration hadn't first.

Now that I'm certain it's safe I dart towards the lake and quickly fill up both of my water canteens as much as I can, seal the lid back on and place them in my backpack, zipping it up as I flee. Nearing the tree I put the backpack onto my back and climb up as quickly as I can. I reach my branch after around twenty five minutes, the adrenaline and fear in my system pushing me to get there as quick as I possibly can.

Once there I take my backpack off of my back and take out both of the canteens and the iodine bottle. I place the drops of iodine in the canteens, reseal them and then place the iodine into my backpack. Waiting the thirty minutes requires is almost painful, in the end I surrender and munch on another apple to pass the time, looking into the apple bag it seems I have three apples left. The apples and the dried fruit will allow me to eat comfortably for two or three days, although I should probably think about rationing.

I am disrupted by my thoughts by the boom of the cannon, the hovercraft that comes to pick them up stopping only twenty metres to the left of my tree, this allows me to see the body it picks up, it's female, having blond hair meaning it could either be the girl from District Twelve or the girl from District One. The choices make me convinced that it's the girl from Twelve who's gone.

After around a minute it only comes to my mind that twenty metres isn't very far at all. In fact, it's rather close. With that in mind I draw my blanket close to me with wide eyes, attempting to look down and possibly see the assailant however the leaves of the tree blocks me.

After hours of being scared I have a feeling I thought I'd never have during the Hunger Games. Boredness. Yes, I'm scared for my life but sitting in a tree isn't very entertaining. And if I'm bored, It means that most likely that the Capitol audience is bored with me too. And that's not a very good thing. That's a very bad thing, terrible even.

If I stay in this tree too long, they'll most likely force me out of it using natural disasters or maybe one of their mutations they're so fond of.

I groan and hit my head rather forcefully against the trunk of the tree, closing my eyes and willing myself to sleep. In my dreams I'm not in the games. In my dreams I'm just Tesla who has wanted to work at the hydroelectric dam since the age of thirteen. Just Tesla who gets A's in the subjects that count; physics and maths. Just Tesla who laughs with her friends behind Current Matthews' back because she failed her simple physics practical.

My dreams are so convincing that when I get up the next morning, I am honestly shocked to wake up laying in a hard, rough tree. I grunt and, opening my backpack take several large gulps of water, in fact I end up drinking the whole canteen. And then I get started on the second one, I have my own water source and I have to move out today anyway, so I may as well be hydrated.

I make my way down the tree with everything in my backpack making it heavier than usual, delaying my time by several minutes. I trudge towards the lake wearily, although I'm still on the lookout for other tributes. I manage to stop myself from walking out, and it's a good thing I did.

The boy from District Two is currently in deep conversation around fifteen metres away with the blond from District One which proves my hypothesis that Twelve is dead correct after I missed the faces in the sky last night. I cannot make out what they're saying but it's too risky to dart to the lake today, I eye for the District Two's District partner as in the last games they teamed up, only for him to gut her in the final three. To my surprise and horror I spot the District Four boy and the District Two girl bathing in the lake.

I freeze at this, what's happening? Tributes outside of their Districts don't ally with others in the games. These tributes should be killing each other, making it easier for me to swoop in later and win. This alliance has thrown a spanner in my works, how can I win against these monsters. They seem to all be the strongest ones in the game, I wonder if the small District One boy was offered a place.

I take one last look at the lake and turn to leave. Snapping on a fallen branch rather loudly as I do so. One's green eyes snap towards where I'm standing and her otherwise pretty face turns into one of malice and excitement.

Oh no.

I turn tail and flee as fast as I can, running through the jungle like a coyote would around the solar power sheets; dodging and twisting while I attempting to evade being seen. It takes me a while to realise that I'm not being chased. Come to think of it, am I sure they even saw me? Not really. With this information I slow my pace in order to soothe my aching lungs.

I jog into a clearing and hoarsely breathe sigh of relief. I have no idea how I managed to get out of that one unscathed, with a full backpack too. I am grinning at myself out of my pure luck when I hear the quiet chirping of birds that steadily grow louder.

I turn around, happy to find some creatures who aren't wanting to kill me for once in the Games.

It's as I turn around that I realise my mistake, no birds should be those colours. They're an assortment of flaming red, candy pink, acid green and neon yellow. On closer inspection they have much sharper beaks than normal, almost like tiny needles. They buzz towards me, seemingly harmless but I step away from them as quick as I can, turning my head quickly, making parts of my braid fall out.

I break into a run, fleeing a horde of vibrant birds that are most obviously Capitol mutations. People are probably covering their children's eyes right about now, shielding them from the horrors of what is about to come.

I am fast, is what I tell myself as a pep talk as I run.

I am fast, yes. These are faster.

I shriek in pain as the first beak plunges into my arm, swatting away the perpetrator; an acid green bird. This only slows me down and allows another, neon yellow bird to impale my shoulder. I screech again, beginning to panic as another bird bears down upon me. The yellow bird doesn't seem to have had enough and it goes for my face, pecking my nose and cheeks as I screech and bat my arms around it. I succeed in getting the yellow one off of me, but by that time the next bird is only a couple of metres away.

I begin to flee again, screaming as I do so. At this point I don't care who hears, just get these things away from me. My breathe comes out hoarse and ragged from the screaming, my lungs are burning as if they're on fire. I attempt forget the pain as much as I can and begin to persevere in order to flee.

Just not fast enough.

The birds catch up with me, I feel the new pain at around the same time.

One impales me at the back of my thigh, another in my other shoulder, and one in the small of my back where my backpack doesn't protect me. It's as I turn to scream that one digs it's beak deep into my throat, making it more of a gargle than a scream. It is because of the new collection of wounds that I fall to the ground, clutching my neck and crying.

Crying because this is just not fair.

It's not fair that I was reaped.

It's not fair that these birds were set upon me.

It's just not fair.

I can see now, why when me and my friends were little and we whined to our teacher that she merely told us 'life isn't fair'. It's not. If life was fair I would live to see my seventeenth birthday in a weeks time, I would marry a man who loved me and provided for me. We would have three children, two boys and girl. I would work on the hydroelectric dam and he would work on the wind farms, together we'd earn enough to get by and...

I see it, the life that I could have had, should have had. I see the life that now I will never have.

I breathe shakily, clutching my throat as if that alone will staunch the blood and allow me to live the life that should have been.

But it doesn't, I can slowly feel myself losing consciousness, never to have that life. I will never hug my sister again, never meet the man of my dreams, never have three children; two boys and a girl. I will never see my friends again, or be mean about Current Matthews.

I hope she knew I never meant it; never meant the horrible things I said and the worse things I giggled at. Maybe she will have the life I should have had... Working on the hydroelectric plant, two boys, one girl.

Maybe...

It's hard to focus now, my time is coming.

I...

I give on last gasp, and then my head rolls to the side and my arms relax upon my neck. I breath no more.

Never to have the life I could've and should've had, only destined to die before reaching my seventeenth year.