"The price of the words I could never say
Washed the tears of the love away
Please, please come back to me."
- Ian Broudie, 1990.
The 7th Annual Hunger Games
Michelle Patrick (17), District 12 Female
The Lightning Seeds - The Price (1990)
Run.
That is the only thought that I can get into my head as I scramble up to my feet and begin my escape. I have to get away now. Behind, I can hear the rumbling thunder as the tunnel roof collapses.
"Michelle, wait!" calls Simon, my district partner. He's only fourteen, and can't run as fast as I can. Looking over my shoulder but not stopping, I can see Simon running with only blackness behind him. He's only got as little as five yards over the destruction behind him. Way too close for comfort. Why, oh why, the Gamemakers choose us? If they wanted the audience to really care, target the Careers, or that boy from Seven, not us! Not two relatively harmless tributes with little chance of winning!
Maybe the audience want a spectacle at the end of the Games; a final showdown. Probably a battle between the surviving Careers (who have increased in their numbers to six this year, with their inclusion of District 1 this year) and anyone else who can last long enough.
As I'm running my mind flits back through my memories of the arena so far. Five days have passed since twenty-four of Panem's children entered the arena. Of those twenty-four, eleven remain. The five remaining Careers, me and Simon, the high-scoring boy from District 7, three others that I can't place. I couldn't even tell you who's already gone, aside from the girl from Two. I remember seeing her face in the sky clearly. All I do is keep count of the cannons. Thirteen in total so far.
The arena itself is unique in the Games history. The cornucopia was positioned in a large, dark, rocky cavern, with one small opening to the sky where a thin stream trickles down into a pool on the floor of the cavern. It's cold, dark and damp, and all we have by way of light is a small flashlight on a headband that all the tributes were given as a part of the required clothing. As for protection against the cold, there is nothing. No firewood at the cornucopia, no heat sources to be found in the arena. Just cold, damp tunnels interlinking larger caverns. All we have to wear as clothing is black jumpsuits. Although movement is easy, they offer next to no protection against the cold. It's slightly ridiculous how under-prepared the Gamemakers have made us this year.
There's no food, either. All I have is what I managed to grab at the cornucopia. Simon was luckier than me, as we both found backpacks, but his had more food than mine. We've split the food up evenly, though I doubt it'll last much longer than another day. Maybe two, if we're lucky. This really is the Hunger Games. I can imagine losing a couple of tributes to starvation in the coming days. I just hope that one of them isn't me.
Once our own food has run out, I doubt we'll last long. Unlike the Career districts, whose tributes have unbelievable levels of support in the Capitol, District 12 has very few sponsors. Its status as the poorest district of Panem does nothing to help us, plus our dismal record in the early years of the Games. In every other district, one tribute has reached the last six or better from each district, except District 12. Our best finish was a boy called Peter, who came ninth in the first Games. Since then, District 12 has been, quite simply, forgettable.
Of course, Simon and I will become our most successful tributes. As long as one more tribute dies, even if I die afterwards, Simon will finish ninth at worst. But we are a team, and one of us won't suddenly die. Then I remember my current situation and my mind is filled with doubt.
Suddenly, I burst out of the collapsing tunnel and into the large cavern that holds the cornucopia. It takes me a moment to adjust to the natural light levels, but when I do, I'm aware of a tall figure silhouette in the minimal light. The boy from District 7. I'm sure of it.
He's standing near the cornucopia, thirty yards away. I can tell that he spots me, as he turns my way, an unrecognisable weapon in his raised right hand. Ten yards from me, the boy stops, and I can hear Simon, who must have escaped the tunnel, catch up to me, out of breath. His heavy breathing is loud in the silence of the cavern. Surely the other boy must have heard him.
My fears are confirmed as I watch the silhouette shift his wait as his weapon- I think it's an axe- somersaults towards me. Automatically I duck, and I'm powerless to help as I watch the axe sink into my district partner, who had been standing behind me.
Simon cries out, breaking the eerie silence of the cavern. He drops to his knees on the rocky, uneven ground, clutching his stomach, where the boy's axe has penetrated him.
I look away in shock, expecting to find the boy standing over us, but instead he is nowhere to be seen. He's done a runner.
Simon lies on the ground, curled around the axe buried within him, like a young child curled up for sleep. He whimpers quietly, but life is ebbing from him quickly. Not a nice way to go; slowly bleeding out, lying on a cold rock in a dark, damp cave. Certainly not how I'd want to die. But there are no nice deaths in the Hunger Games. Everything about this is brutal.
I don't know why, but I never really thought Simon would die. Well, I knew that if I wanted to get home, he would have to die eventually, but I hadn't ever really realised what death actually means. I've never watched someone die before. At the bloodbath, I'd grabbed a bag and escaped before any real violence had started.
I thought that because we were allies, we would be safe. But I became complacent. I never even feared for Simon's safety when we ran into that tribute. I only thought of my own wellbeing. And now I will be alone. I thought allies would help me, but this is a reminder of how every alliance must eventually conclude. This is the price I must pay for my actions. After all, I was planning on betraying young Simon later in the Games. Cunning and deceit are punished. But I won't be broken by my punishment.
A fourteen-year-old boy, with long, straight black hair, grey eyes and olive skin lies in front of me, his last breaths passing his lips.
It's all I can do to honour him. And so I take a seat on the cold, rocky arena floor, and hold Simon's hand while he dies.
After Simon's death, ten remained in the arena, a number that was reduced to seven by the end of that day, leaving five Careers, the boy from District 7 and Michelle from District 12.
Due to minimal supplies being available in the arena, sponsor support was crucial in a tribute's survival. After the highly favourited Careers wasted their supplies after an argument over who a particular sponsor gift belonged to, the group split and found that their sponsor support without away without the numbers advantage. The two tributes from District 4, who had stuck together since the Career Alliance broke, died of starvation on the tenth day.
Most of the sponsor support that the Careers lost was directed towards Michelle after her actions on the day that Simon died, and so the rest of the field suffered. On the twelfth day, the boy from Seven attacked the Careers out of desperation. He died, but not before taking out the boy from District 1, leaving just three tributes alive in the arena.
When the Gamemakers forced the final three tributes together with another series of cave-ins, Michelle managed to defy the odds, using the axe that she took from Simon's body over a week before to kill both the girl from District 1 and the boy from Two, crowning herself the victor of the 7th Annual Hunger Games.
