Guess who's POV this chapter's in? FINNICK'S. Hehe. And Willow's.
I clasp the knife in my hand, prepared to do the unthinkable. I have to find her. I have to make sure she wins. I have known her for barely a week, but I have had enough time to feel as though we're old friends. I spot her positioned to run, then running, to the flat, tree covered plain. The gong must have sounded. I can't hear anything through the intense beat of my heart in my ears. I see the world flying past me and become aware I'm running to her. She has a good head start on me. I run fast, though. I see a 12 year old girl slitting the girl from 3's throat. She had come off as sweet and gentle in her interview. She looks at me and nods. Are we allies? I can't remember. Adrenalin is coursing through me, causing me to run faster. The girls eyes are cold and unforgiving in the simple nod. She opens her mouth to say something, but then quickly shuts it and sends a knife soaring past my face and into a giants heart. Her brother? No, that's someone else. I turn my attention back to Willow, who is disappearing into the thick woods.
I push my legs to move faster, cursing myself when my knees try to buckle. I don't allow it, I can't. The first tree passes me, and then another. I am in the woods. I call out Willow's name as more trees speed away, but she doesn't turn. She only yells something. I hardly hear it but I know what she's saying. She's telling me to follow.
We run for hours, finally slowing when the first cannon sounds. Then another. And two more. Then three more, and it stops. Small blood bath, I think. We catch our breath while I take in the scenery. Snow flowing down from fake clouds. Thick pine trees covered in snow. Bushes with berries I know for a fact are poisonous. Then I see Willow. Her Grey eyes appearing almost white with the frozen world reflecting in them. Her black hair flowing down to her hips, peppered with snow flakes. Her olive skin appearing very pale. Plump lips opened sipping in the icy air. Indeed a beautiful sight. If only what was going on inside her head wasn't there.
Willow's POV
I catch my breath as I lean on a tree. Finnick is here, and I am very glad. I didn't find him and wait, like I had intended to. Instead I ran like a cowered, but he still came after me. What a great ally I am.
"We should keep moving." Finnick says breathlessly.
I nod my head in agreement. "We can find a sturdy tree to sleep in. I saw my mom do it in her Games." I think only a moment. "Wonder where she got it from." I add sarcasticly.
"I... Umm..." He hesitates.
"You... What?" I press, even though I already know the answer.
"See, I-" He cuts himself off.
I grab his arm and pull him along as I start walking towards where I think the mountains are. "Talk on the way."
"On the way where?" He asks eagerly trying to change the subject.
"To the mountains." I say looking forwards. "Now talk." I demand.
"What's gotten into you?" He asks casually.
"The arena." I say curtly, stopping to look at him. "Now what were you going to say?" I ask a bit more softly, realizing that I sounded a tad bitchy.
He looks at his feet and says, "I can't climb trees." He then looks down into my eyes, towering over me.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. "You can't climb trees?" I ask failing to hide my laughter now. "I'll help you." I motion to a tree near me. I already could tell he was incompentant with climbing from training, but it's even funnier when he admits it.
He shuffles his feet, unsure. I remember where we are and look around cautiosly. "Why are we going to the mountains?" He asks trying to change the subject.
I push past him and start up the tree showing him how to climb. "I'll tell you when you climb to me." I say.
I am about 20 ft. up when I see Finnick still on the ground looking unsure of himself. I give him an encouraging nod, but he shakes his head with equal enthusiasm.
"Okay. Well I still have to see that we are going the right way, so you keep guard. And be careful." I add. I haven't been acting very seriously, which is what will get me killed. Finnick nods at me, and repositions his knife.
I climb up further, and notice how dark it has become. And how tired I am. The reality sets in once again, and I go into a fit of hyperventalating. Oh, no. NO NO NO NO NO.
Tears cloud my vision, the icy air stinging my eyes. I wipe them away, my hands cold as the air. Why didn't they think to give us gloves? Stupid bastards. I realize I am never going to see District 12 again. I am never going to see my friends again. I am never going to sneak into the woods again. I miss them. Every one of them. All the people in 12. All the people at the Hob. I even miss my dad.
Reality comes back in an ice cold punch to the throat when I hear another cannon. I look down to find Finnick, but he isn't there. "Finnick?" I say quietly. Nothing happens. I climb lower down, hoping to find him, but only to be disappointed when all I see is snow. I dare to say his name again, for a career could be within hearing range. "Finnick?" No reply.
I drop down out of then tree, forgetting how high I was. I crash into the earth with a solid thud, and feel something in my left arm snap. I don't however dare to make a sound of pain. I am already being careless enough.
I don't bother looking at my fore arm where it snapped, because I know what a broken bone feels like. And this is definantly broken. I huff out air, trying to keep my pain silent, but failing when I let out a small whimper after trying to move it. Tears squeeze out of my eyes. I realize I have held them closed tight since the second I landed. I gingerly open them and look at my limp left arm. Blood staines the ground and I feel the warm sticky liquid trickling down the right side of my face.
I must have hit the right side of my face on the way down, bounced off and landed on my left side. That seems logical at the moment.
I try to focus on finding Finnick, and say again, "Finnick?". I wince at the sound of my voice, for it is filled with pain. I try to sit up, using my left elbow as a lift and pushing up with my right arm.
Pain courses through my back side as I feel a hard kick. I am thrown forward onto my face, screaming as my broken arm hits the tree. What the hell?! I am not supposed to die on the first night!
I regain my position of sitting and turn to my assailant. Ignigma. With another hit to my right temple, I am knocked unconscious.
I feel pressure on my stomach, and open my eyes to see all the careers towering above me. They look at me with a smile on their face and evil in there heart.
Who I remember to be Katrina, has her boot on me and is lowering herself to sit on me as she says, "So you're finally awake. You kept us waiting a while, Everdeen." Did she just call me Everdeen? I don't know, I can hardly here through the beat of my heart.
I can feel my pack under me, thankful it's still there. I'd die before giving them Everdeen bread. Katrina grabs hold of my chin, and pulls out a knife that must be from the cornucopia. "Does this look or feel familiar, Everdeen?" She asks trying to sound like Clove when she and Katniss were in this same situation. Except Katrina's from 4. And She's not Clove. And there is no Thresh to come to the rescue. And I am not Katniss.
"Actually, yes." I hiss. "Anytime now you should be dying."
"This is where you end. Not me. And don't worry about my district partner. We already took care of him." She smiles. "We wanted to save you for the final 8, but," She continues. "We're here now. So, all well."
I look away, the feeling returning to my left arm. Why would they save me for the final eight? I realize they took my snow suit, and wonder why they would have possibly done that because they all have their own. Then it dawns on me. They want to ensure that I die painfully.
The snow seeps into the black clothes I'm wearing, assuring me that they are no longer reflecting my heat. I start to shiver, or was I already? I don't know.
Katrina grabs my face, looks at my left arm, and smiles. Then she grabs my fore arm and jerks it around like crazy. The pain is so intense, I am blinded. I start flailing my limbs around and feel myself slap Katrina. She gasps and stops. I am panting, whimpering, blinded, and shaking with cold. I feel a knife cutting my cheek. Then it stops and a new stinging at my neck lets me know where the knife is. I hear screaming, but it isn't me. It's far off. I hear foot steps and then Katrina is saying she wants to finish me off. I am going to die.
Nothing happens for a while, then when the cannon sounds, I wonder if it's me who died. Katrina says they must have gone farther off and killed another poor soul. Why is she talking? She said 'poor soul'?
I feel myself being lifted. I must be placed on someone's shoulder, but certainly not Katrina's. I hear more voices. I don't really care. I just hope Darious dies.
There's the motion of moving foward, and fast. There is shouting. A cannon. Then oblivion.
Finnick's POV
I watch her as Katrina pulls something out of her pack. "I got it at the cornucopia. It should help with her arm." She mutters.
I look at the cotton wrap in Katrina's hand. "Do you have anything to disinfect it?" I ask failing at trying to not sound worried.
"No, but it can wait. These Games should go quickly 'cause this is a small arena and everyone has a knife. I do have this thing that would work as a splint." She says as she holds out a long and flat piece of metal. "I don't know why the Gamemakers thought it necessary to have, but whatever." She says as she rolls up Willow's sleeve. She then puts the metal on her inner fore arm and wraps the cotton around it, securing it.
"She's blue." I say quietly. I pull off my snow suit, and place it beside me.
"What are you doing?" Katrina asks.
I ignore her, and pull off Willow's wet clothes, but leave on her under wear and bra. Her skin is a pale blue shade, so different from it's usual olive tone. She's breathing, though, and that's good. I inch her limp body into my snow suit, and then zip it up; being careful for her injuries.
She has cuts on her cheek and neck, from Katrina. A broken arm, a deep cut on her fore head, and bruises all over her body. Including the massive bruises Ignigma gave her on her mid back and temple. She black and blue and red.
I gently lay her on my lap, being careful for the bruise on her back. I try to rub warmth into her, but gently, oh, so gently.
I am so glad I killed Ignigma.
I know, long chapter, lots of excitement (lol), and a lame ending. Yeppers.
