Chapter Twelve

I wake to Mason shaking me awake. He must have been the last one to keep watch because I'm the only one -other than him- that is awake. I'm clutching my trident. Beside me, Ceaser is grasping his sword. Only a few feet away, Valarie is resting with a sword in her hand as well. Near to her is Rory with his bow and arrows near to his hand.

Accessing my options of who to wake up first, I decide Rory is the safest bet. His weapon requires more assembly than the swords that are resting in the hands of Valarie and Ceaser. Still, I stand a ways away and kick his legs around until he begins to stir. It doesn't take him more than a few moments to get on his feet with a bow and arrow pointed at me. When he processes my face, he lowers them, sliding the arrow into the quiver on his back and the bow in his hand.

"You waking up Ceaser?" I ask him. I really don't want to be the one to wake him up. It's too early in the Games to have a limb sliced from my body. It's too early in the morning as well, but that's beside the point.

"In your dreams, Four," he scoffs and walks to Valarie. "I'm not risking my limbs."

I make a face and decide how to wake him. With my trident in my hand and ready to toss, I kick at Ceaser's shoulder and then jet a few paces backwards. As soon as my feet are planted, Ceaser is up and at the ready. I never realized waking someone up in the morning could be such a dangerous task. It takes longer for Ceaser and me to lower our weapons against each other. Neither of us is as trusting of the other one as Rory, Mason, and Valarie are.

"Are you two going to longingly gaze into each other's eyes some more or can we eat and go hunting?" It's Valarie. I see her standing in my peripheral vision. All her weight is on one leg, her arms are crossed, and her sword is stuck into the ground next to her. Everything about her exudes confidence. She's so at ease right now that it frightens me.

It's hard to tell which of us lowers our weapon first. I think it was Ceaser, but I might be biased. "I'll start catching the fish. Mason, see if that spile works on these trees; take Valarie with you. Rory and Ceaser, start a small fire to cook the fish."

I grab the net I began knotting yesterday. It's not much, but it will work for now. When I reach the pond, I feel out of place. After a moment of reflection, I realize it's the boots. I can't fish in these things, so I sit on the edge of the pond and –despite the strange looks from Ceaser- take off my boots and socks. Though the boots are waterproof, it doesn't feel right to fish in them.

When I step in, the fish scatter from me immediately, I quietly demand silence from Ceaser and Rory, who were laughing as they started a small fire. When the fish slowly begin to migrate towards me, I take action, dropping the net and killing at least four fish. I collect the net and pull my trident free.

I step out of the water and drive my trident into the ground momentarily while I analyze. I had killed four with the trident, but another fish was caught in the net and died anyway. I let my feet dry while Ceaser and Rory gut and cook the fish.

I knot my net while I wait for something to happen. When my feet dry, I pull on my socks and boots. I see Valarie and Mason return, five filled water bottles in their arms. They toss one to each of us on the ground. Mason sits beside me.

Soon enough, Rory is handing cooked fish to Mason and me. As I take out the rolls from last night, I realize just how hungry I am. I guess it was a good idea to save a roll for each of us. We eat in silence. No one questions why Mason and I have rolls. At first I think it's because they reasoned through the situation mentally, but I then come to the conclusion that they simply don't care about why we have rolls.

When everyone has finished and refilled the water that they've had to drink with our meal, we head off to go hunting. I cringe at the word, but I reluctantly toss my net on my shoulder and head after them. I've seen it happen every year, but that doesn't mean that I enjoy it. When Ceaser comes across the first tribute, the boy from Six, I have to keep myself from hurling up fish. They fight over who can kill him, Ceaser and Valarie. Valarie does it because she hasn't killed anyone yet, and she wanted this one to be her first.

As we walk away from the place where Valarie killed the boy, the canon goes off. Sickly, the sound seems to put pep in Valarie's step. No matter how I should feel -excited that Valarie killed her first tribute, relieved that there is one less tribute that I have to kill to get home, mournful for the family of the boy- I feel disgusting and filthy. Like witnessing that boy's murder covered me in a layer of grime that is impossible to wash off.

I decide, after a while of walking through the trees with my alliance, that I can't feel that way. I can't get attached to these tributes, and –as much as I hate to say it- Mason as well. I can't get attached to any of them because I'm going to go home. Each time that canon goes off and I'm not the reason why, I should rejoice because that is one less person's blood on my hands. One less death that I have to be accountable for.

The boy from Six is the only one we find that day. Another canon had gone off near mid afternoon. Only two died today. According to the pictures of the fallen in the sky that night, the other who had died was Cliff, the boy from Eleven.

There are only ten of us left. Ceaser, Valarie, Rory, me, Mason, Cheri and Birch from Seven, Evella and Piers from Nine, and Rainie from Ten. Fourteen of us have already died.

Ceaser is anxious to kill again. I can tell just by the grip he has on his sword and the way he sits as he eats on dried meat from our packs. We're all eating dried meat, but he is secluding himself from us. Maybe it's that Gem isn't here anymore or maybe it's that he honestly does hate us or maybe he actually is thirsty for another kill.

I stand, "Does anyone else need to refill their water?" Everyone begins chattering and handing me their water bottles.

"I'll go with you, Four."

"I think I'll be fine, Ceaser," I attempt holding the five water bottles in my hand along with the spile and my trident, but everything falls to the ground.

Ceaser laughs, "Just let me help you, honestly. I'll just be your little watchdog." He has a smirk on his face, puts the five empty or nearly empty water bottles into his pack, and hands me the spile. "Lead the way."

We both are clutching our weapons, and I have my net slung on my shoulder. "I'd rather we walk side-by-side." Shaking his head, he complies, and we walk. I don't know why we walk so far from the others. Maybe he wants to kill me where Mason can't hear me scream. If that's his plan, I guess I'm grateful on behalf of Mason.

It's silent. I hate the silent, so I stop at a tree with a wider trunk with most. "Hand me the bottles." Ceaser begins uncapping all of them. Once they are all uncapped, he holds one in his hand while I shove the spile into the trunk. We fill three of the water bottles from that tree. At the one nearby, we fill the remaining two, and Ceaser tells me to drink the rest. I drink as much as I can, and tell him to finish it off.

I put three of the bottles in his pack, leaving one for each of us to carry. Ceaser puts the spile in my hand and takes the two bottles in one of his hands. I never realized that his hands were so large. I don't make him let me carry one of the bottles. What's the purpose? So we head back to the others in silence, both clutching our weapons.

We had only just begun our journey back to camp when Ceaser drops the bottles and pins me against a tree. I knew it. He volunteered to come with me so he could kill me. It's dark now, and I can hardly see Ceaser's face in front of me. I use that to my advantage. He is standing on my feet. I can't use my knees like I usually would, so I decide on elbows.

I round my elbow up and jab him in the side of his neck. I only had my left elbow because he was grasping my right: the hand I hold my trident in. The jab made him release my arm. I use the butt of the trident to get his feet off mine. He's stumbling away from me, and I'm holding my trident ready to fire. I put the spile between my teeth, grab at the ground to get the bottles, and run back to the others.

'You need to ally with the Careers' he'd said 'They'll protect you for long enough until you can get on your own.'

Well, Finn, one of them has already attempted to murder me. Does that mean I need to get Mason in the middle of the night and run? It's only the second day. A few more days and then we'll run.

I hear birds twittering in the trees. When I hear chatter, I slow down with my trident at the ready. I look from behind a tree and see my alliance. I hear Ceaser running behind me. He's still a ways away because he is so slow. I lean against the tree to rest. Ceaser sees me and slows down in order to catch his breath I presume. When he reaches me, I push myself off the tree without a word and walk towards the others. I toss the both the bottles I'm holding at Mason to put in our pack.

I sit beside Mason and pull at the net on my shoulder. I need to take my mind off Ceaser, so I begin knotting again. "What happened out there?" Mason is whispering in my ear. I shake my head at him. He lays his head in my lap.

Before I realize it, he's asleep and the sky is even darker than before. "I think we should go to sleep for the night. Rory, you're up first tonight."

"Okay," he says and sits on a rock nearby. We lie a lot closer together tonight because we're not in a clearing like last night. I fall asleep against the tree with Mason's head on my lap, my trident in my right hand, and my net beside me.

I wake to Ceaser kicking my legs around. I have my trident pointed at his chest. I lower my weapon when he does. I slide from under Mason and go to sit on the rock Rory had been sitting on earlier.

"Hey, Four?" Ceaser says, sitting with his back perched up against the tree closest to where I'm sitting.

"Go to sleep, Ceaser." I'm irritated. Why did he wake me up if he's just going to stay up and chatter to me all night? Besides, he tried to kill me earlier today, so I'm already irritated with him. I look at the sky. It's that weird mixture between night and morning where the sky can't figure out what to look like.

He grunts. I turn to him. He's facing me now, and he is now scooted considerably closer to me. "I can't. I thought I was tired, so I woke you up, but now I can't fall asleep."

I groan. That happened to me often back in Four. I would get into bed, completely tired, and then find myself wanting nothing more than to wake my dad and tell him everything that happened to me that day. "Tell me about District 1." He looks confused. "Trust me, it'll help. Tell me about your life in One."

He stays silent for a few moments, "My mother works as one of the most esteemed jewelers in One. My father is Head Peacekeeper. We moved from Two to One when I was six. I have one sister. She's older by three years, Amethyst." I try not to scoff at her name. Everyone in District 1 has the most ridiculous names, showing off their luxury, "I was great in school. Excelled in most everything," he pauses and kicks at the ground underneath his boots. His face contorts in a way that makes it seem like he is about to something else, but then that face falls and he makes faces at the ground.

Ceaser turns back to me, "This isn't helping, Four, I don't know why you thought this would help."

"It's always worked for me," I shrug and look through the space in the trees at more trees. In silences like this, you can hear the water around the cornucopia moving and lapping at the shoreline.

Ceaser is pushing at my side, "Move over, Four." I scoot from the middle of the rock to the right half. He's silent for a very pregnant, very uncomfortable moment, "What about you? What's your life like back in Four?"

"I'd rather not, Ceaser," completely honest. I don't want to explain my life story to him over national television. These people don't care about me. They don't care that my mother died a few years ago. They don't care about my story. They care about me killing other people.

He begins poking my arm with a smile, edging me on. "I said no, Ceaser!" I tried not to shout, and I think it came out as a mangled plea.

I look at him. When I find his eyes, I don't like the look in them. I turn away immediately. Then he turns my face towards his. His lips are on my neck. I find myself incapable of stopping him. I melt under him and then hit myself for doing so. Henry. God, what if they show this later in a recap and he has to see this? Lord, he's never going to speak to me again. I place my hands on either side his face, "Ceaser, stop. Please, stop." When he doesn't, I force his head off of mine.

"You have someone waiting for you back in Four, don't you?"

"Go to sleep, Ceaser." I attempt to sound fierce and strong, but my command sounds more like a request. My voice sounds strangled, not authoritative.

"You do. Don't you?" he has some form of a sick smile on his face.

"I said go to sleep."

For whatever reason, he listens. He slides off the rock, goes to the nearest tree, and leans against it with his eyes closed.

A/N: Once again, I hope you all are enjoying this story. Thank you to everyone who commented, favorite, and followed since the last update.

This is week three of the Saturday update, so let's see how far we can go. I'm currently writing Chapter Nineteen, so get excited because we might be kind of almost done!

If you don't like something about my story, I would love to know what it is. Please leave a review about what you do and don't like about what I'm writing so that I can get better. Thank you and have a splendid day!