Night Two.
A Cannon in the Wind;
The Fifth Hunger Games.
Meeko Brighton, 14;
District Eleven Female.
God, please be with me.
The storm hasn't let up at all from this morning, meaning it still feels like I'm in the middle of a typhoon. Now that it's nighttime, though, everything is a thousand times worse. I can barely see anything past my hand; I feel like someone, something is going to jump out of the darkness and slaughter me at any second. Because of the rain, my black hair is clung to my face — and with the wind blowing at irrational levels, the temperature has dropped exponentially.
All in all, this is a very unsettling situation.
The urge to get on my knees and pray, right here and right now, is almost overpowering. Back in Eleven, I was considered by the others as extremely spiritual — and in a way, I am. If I didn't have the power of faith to carry me through my days, I don't know where I'd be right now.
If I didn't have something to believe in, I'd be...lost right now. Especially with Koda gone.
I shudder — and not because of the cold, either. Just the mere thought of my deceased friend makes me want to break away the layers of my calm persona and fall apart, physically and emotionally. Koda was the sunniest boy I'd ever met — and in mere minutes of being here, the Capitol clouded his shine with death. It's unfair. It's... It's just so unfair.
You of all people know how unfair life is. Why are you acting like this is a surprise? Quickly wiping away my tears, I take in a breath of air, before exhaling. Honestly, I planned for this. Realistically speaking, Koda was never going to make it very far. I knew, even when I was standing onstage in District Eleven, that the only way I was going to survive was if I went at it alone.
Still, those were only calculations in my brain. Koda actually dying hit me harder than I would've ever expected. Sometimes, I can still hear his bubbly laughter. Sometimes, I can still see his dark face, scrunched up in a pout.
Just stop thinking about it, I tell myself, stumbling along the dark fields. I'm drenched from head-to-toe in rain, just like during my Reaping, but I can't bring myself to care. All I can focus on — want to focus on — is finding shelter and maybe even food for tonight.
Earlier today, I was attacked by a rabid pack of raccoons. Instead of harming me, though, they simply stole my backpack of supplies. I lost everything, even my dignity. I can just imagine everyone back home, shaking their heads at the little orphan-girl who can't even fight off some animals. Even in the Capitol, they're probably waving me off as the next one dead.
Dead. Biting my lip, I continue walking, more tears welling up in my eyes. But I don't let them fall. If I cry now, it's over. I'll never be able to recover from the depression. That's why I need to constantly remind myself of my faith — because if I lose faith in God, here of all places, I'm nothing more than a walking corpse.
And I can't... I just can't die here. Everyone wants to go to Heaven, they say, but nobody wants to die to get there. I go by that saying every day of my life, when I'm struggling to find food in the orphanage, or even when my thoughts turn sour and the sorrow threatens to overtake my life. Death is just too...
It's too scary, too dark, too random.
I have to survive this — even if it means I lose myself in the process. I'm a peaceful girl, but there is no such thing as peace in this place. If I don't do something now, the Capitol will forget about me, and I'll die.
"You should eat something," I suddenly hear someone say. I freeze in my tracks, eyes widened, mouth agape. Who was that? "Seriously, do you wanna die of starvation? Even in the Hunger Games, that's kinda lame."
My mind instantly connects the voice with the girl of District Ten, London Tienna. I slowly lower my body to the damp ground — and there, in the distance, I can see two shadows under a giant tree. If I remember correctly, London allied with Toren Ingalls of District Nine. That must be them.
"I'm just not hungry," Toren replies, her voice lower than her blonde ally. "...Sorry."
London sighs. "Don't be sorry. Look, I understand, today's been pretty rough. You can take the first shift for tonight, if you want?"
From what I can deduce, their alliance is already cracking. Their personalities are so different, I find myself wondering why they even decided to team up in the first place. That's why I told Koda that we couldn't have any allies. In the end, there's only one winner. Not only am I untrusting of these other tributes — but having to deal with the heartache of their death would be too much.
It's easier, seeing faces in the sky and not knowing a single thing about them.
I listen to their conversation for a bit more, but after awhile I realize that I gain nothing from this encounter. I'm about to turn around and find somewhere else to stay — but suddenly, a soft ding catches my attention. I look up, shocked, as a white parachute comes sailing down towards me. Attached to the end is a black box.
A sponsor? I'm not exactly the pessimistic type... But seriously? I didn't say a word during my Interview, and my Training Score was a lowly 4. Even with an entire district rooting for me, why would anyone sponsor me anything?
I quickly grab the box, tossing the parachute away. Attached to the box is a note, slightly wet with rain. There must be something special about this paper, because even with the night shrouding everything in darkness, I can easily make out the letters on my note.
This is the only thing you'll be getting, unless you manage to do something other than mourn. Koda's dead, we get it, but you need to be active or else the Gamemaker will target you. It's nighttime, and those two unsuspecting girls won't know what hit them. I think you know what to do.
— Priscilla.
I wince at the callous tone of my Escort, crumbling the note and tossing that on the ground as well. And then, I open the box. What greets me is a sharp, curved knife. Perfect for slashing. Perfect entertainment for the audience.
...They want me to kill them. I swallow that horrible thought, a wave of nausea momentarily overcoming my senses. That must be it. With no deaths today, the Capitol audience must be getting bored. Antsy. And since I'm no-doubt the least entertaining tribute, the responsibility of livening up the night is violently dropped onto my shoulders.
For a second, I want to throw the knife away and scream at the sky. But I know how dumb that would be. Priscilla is giving me a chance here. A disgusting chance, but one nonetheless. If I take this sponsor gift and walk away without doing anything, I'm only signing the name to my own death certificate.
I have to act. I grab the knife out of the box, rubbing my hands against the smooth metal. If I don't, I'll die.
I stare at the two shadows, my mind whirring with plans and calculations. The odds of killing them both aren't in in my favor at all. But if I can just kill one of them and run away, maybe the Capitol will be satisfied. Maybe I'll even get food, water...
Resigning myself to my fate, I get up from the ground, slowly walking towards them with the weapon clenched tightly in my hands. I know that what I'm about to do right now will be...unforgivable. I'll never be able to wipe this moment out of my mind. I'll never be able to forgive myself for what I'm about to do.
But maybe God will be able to forgive me. In the end, that's all I hope for.
Toren Ingalls, 15;
District Nine Female.
"You want some water?" London asks me, which must be the thirtieth question tonight. I shake my head, just staring out at the dark expanse of grass in front of me. Even though I can barely see anything, and the rain makes everything look so gloomy, it still feels nice to just sit down and breathe in the nature around me.
Back in Nine, that was my favorite activity. I'm a very serene, peaceful person — and being out in nature was always so therapeutic to me. Whenever I felt overwhelmed with life, I'd always surround myself with the wheat fields.
In a way, I saw myself as a part of nature — but in a more depressing way than some people might think. The grass has no say in whatever happens to it, just like me. If it isn't watered by some other force, or not taken care for, it dies. If someone wants to cut it down, there's nothing the grass can say or do to stop it.
"...Wanna tell scary stories?" London asks — and for a second, a surge of negative emotions overcome me. Can't she realize that I just want to sit here in silence? In the past day, I've seen things that no other girl my age should ever see. I've seen a twelve-year-old be chopped in the head with an axe, a boy have his throat sliced open, and even a creepy talking bird!
What's the point of telling scary stories when we're living the most horrifying story right now?
"Yeah, no thank you," I mumble, letting out my bad emotions with a sigh. I'm not one to usually get worked up over things. But here, in the Arena, it'd be crazy to not feel a bit...frantic.
That's why I'm not too sure about London's mental state. In the Capitol, she was one of the only tributes to really enjoy her time. She even made friends with a trainer! I thought that when she went into the Arena, things would be different, and that she'd start to think and act more seriously. But I was wrong. If anything, it's almost as if she's smiling even harder now that she's here!
You can't trust her, I tell myself, over and over again. Don't let her work her way into your heart. Because in the end, it's not worth it. Even in Nine, this mantra is what I lived by. I made friends, got attached — and just like that, I was pulled away by my mom and never saw them again. Even the men that my mom dated... They all eventually became old news.
That's why it's so hard to trust people in the first place. That's why it's so hard for me to get attached to others. The worst pain isn't the kind you get from a wound, but from the invisible knives that stab into your soul.
So close yourself off. Don't be an idiot. While I know exactly what to do, it still doesn't make the process of pushing others away easier. London is always smiling, but there's a kindness in her eyes that's unrivaled. She may talk a lot, or not understand social etiquette, but...but I can feel the good inside of her.
And yet, that just makes it even harder. Maybe in District Nine, I'd be willing to start a friendship, despite the risks. But in here, I can't take risks. Twenty-three tributes die, and only one tribute comes out alive. It's either her or me.
And no matter how peaceful you are, or how compassionate you are, you still want it to be you. Selfish little Toren.
"Hey..." London's voice cuts through the darkness of my mind. I whiz my head to look at her — and even in the dark, those green eyes of her sparkle with intensity. "I know we're in the Games, and I know we've seen some horrible things, but I will not allow you to just shrink into yourself. We're going to give the other tributes hell, and we can't do that if you aren't...y'know..."
"Yeah." I chuckle, realizing just how bad my body is shaking. I doubt it's because of the cold, either. I take in a deep breath before exhaling it all out, trying to loosen up the mental confinements I've placed upon myself. "You're right, London. I'm sorry, I'm just... I'm just sorry."
I'm trying to adapt to the Games. I thought I could, too — but there's a fine line between frequently moving and murdering people.
"It's cool. Just try to be a bit more talkative tomorrow, okay?" She laughs a bit, slowly laying on the ground. "It's getting a bit dull talking to myself. Even though I am the best conversationalist around."
She's about to go to sleep. Realizing that my eyes are heavy with exhaustion, I yawn and stretch my arms. Before I can lay down next to her, though, I feel a slight tightness in my bladder area.
"I, um... I have to go pee," I tell London, who just mumbles in response. I get up from the ground, dusting myself off a bit, before glancing in her direction. "I'll be right back. Try not to start a fire while I'm gone."
"Take your weapon," is her only response. For a moment, my mind blanks out, and I realize just how dangerous going to use the restroom could be. It's dark, and raining, and I'll be vulnerable to whoever sees me...
Quickly grabbing the machete-like weapon, I rush off a few yards away from our shelter. I'm pretty sure London doesn't want to smell my pee while she sleeps, and neither do I. When I feel like I'm far away enough, yet not too far from my ally, I stop and take a deep breath.
There's nobody around me, from what I can see. The darkness enveloping the grassy fields is almost unnerving — and coupled with the sound of rain hitting the ground, it's even more scary. I feel like a muttation is going to jump out and skin me alive, just like when that talking bird pecked my hand and London had to kill it and toss it's corpse far away from us.
Just stay calm. Hurry up and pee. I resign myself to my fate, placing my weapon on the ground and slowly unzipping my overalls. My mind wanders to the viewers at home, and how they're probably watching me right now — and if not for the sharp tug of my bladder, I'd have probably stopped and ran back to London.
But I really do have to pee. So I think of nothing else but that as I manage to free my upper body from the ridiculous farm costume.
And that's when I hear it. A small plop to my left, like someone stepping in wet grass, followed by a series of more plops. SOMEONE'S COMING, my mind screams at me, but I can barely force myself to turn around in time to meet the body of another girl, the exact same height as me. I don't take in her appearance; all I see is the glint of a knife before my brain goes on autopilot and I swing my arm out in defense.
She gasps a little, my palm hitting her shoulder and knocking her off balance. I take a step back, eyes wide, all kinds of thoughts screaming in my head but my body being too shocked to respond. When the girl regains herself — the short black hair and silence identifying her as the District Eleven female — she pounces.
I scream, shutting my eyes. FIGHT BACK FIGHT BACK FIGHT BACK! I duck, her knife grazing the top of my head, before grabbing my own weapon. I can't get back up in time, though, and she falls on top of me with the knife going straight for my face. I bring the blade up to meet her own, momentarily pausing my gruesome demise as metal grinds against metal.
"Get off of me!" I yell, shoving her and trying to crawl away. But she doesn't let me. I barely manage to turn around before a sharp pain enters the back of my leg, spreading like fire and traveling up to my brain.
For a second, everything freezes. She stabbed me.
And then, like a glass of water, my emotions spills over. I scream, tears instantly filling up in my eyes, before gripping my blade and swiping at the girl's head. She ducks, before snatching her knife out of my leg. Another wave of agony spreads throughout my body — and my vision blurs, pain overtaking my entire existence.
She gets up from the ground, staring at me with those cold eyes of hers — and without being able to stand, I just stare right back at her, whimpering at the wound on my leg. I'm dead. I'm so dead. I messed up, and I'm dead.
I don't want to die...
As I'm staring death straight in the face, I realize just how many regrets I have. I regret not trying harder to keep in contact with my friends after I moved. I regret not trying to help my mother with her relationships, instead of secretly ridiculing her. I regret not ever speaking up for myself, letting people just use and use me.
I regret yelling at my mom during the Goodbyes. I was just so mad, so desperate, so... I don't even know. All of my frustrations came out at once, and I thought that she was the reason I was angry. I thought everything was her fault.
But now, I realize it's my own. I was angry at myself — and I just blamed it all on her.
Sobbing now, I fervently shake my head at the District Eleven girl. "P-Please. Please d-don't do th-this..." I have too many regrets. I have too many people that I want to see again, like Olivia and Holden and my mom. Even Saxton, my mom's current boyfriend.
Don't let me die here. I stare at the girl's face — and when she frowns, gripping the bloodied knife in her hand, I start crying even more. Oh no, no, please...please...
"I'm sorry," she whispers, barely audible over the wind and rain. She takes a step towards me, her eyes hardened with conviction.
Once again, the fear overwhelms my body, intertwining with the pain, and my body moves on it's own. I strike out with the machete, trying to keep the distance between us — but she has other plans. She quickly whizzes around my weapon and jumps on top of me, forcing the breath out of my body, before stabbing at my head.
I jerk to the right, the knife slashing my cheek open but not killing me. I scream, thrashing, feeling a surge of desperation flow through my body. I don't want to die! I'm not going to die! I try to hit her off, but she has both my arms pinned to the ground.
"Just leave me alone!" I plead, but she's not hearing anything. Once again, the knife raises — and as I stare the bloodied tip, I realize that I won't be able to get myself out of this situation. I feel like crying and screaming and fighting all at the same time. But I don't. Instead, I just stare.
One second, the knife is about to plunge into my head. The next second, her head flies right off and lands a few feet away, and a gush of blood hits me right in the face. I don't move, or scream, or do anything except stare at the headless body of a girl on top of me, sticky red blood cascading over my face.
Boom!
I wince at that sound of her cannon, before looking up — and standing right there, his single weapon coated in a fine layer of blood, is Zander Engres of District Eight.
Zander Engres, 17;
District Eight Male.
"Looks like I found you," I say to the District Nine girl, allowing a small smile to grace my features. At the sight of me, she literally shivers, a look of pure terror in her brown eyes. I chuckle at the sight. "You thought you could just get away unharmed after what happened during the Bloodbath? How cute."
My main focus was on Kaya, so I couldn't really spend time killing this girl earlier. But I've been walking all around this arena, killing all kinds of creepy animals, and I haven't seen a single sign of my redheaded District Partner. I've been getting antsy. The rush of killing that District Six boy has long passed — and I just want to feel in control again. It's almost exhilarating, having such power over another person's life. I didn't realize it before, but killing is fun.
And I want more of it.
I glance at the District Eleven girl's decapitated head, frowning. That wasn't very fun, though. She didn't even see it coming — and what's the point of killing someone if they don't even know who or what killed them? What's the point if they won't even be able to feel the pain? Slicing that girl's head off felt like stepping on an ant.
I didn't have much time to think, though. As soon as I heard the familiar sounds of screaming, I rushed over here as fast as I could. And seeing that girl trying to kill the one from Nine made me a bit frantic, because if anything was going to kill her, it was going to be me. She stole my weapon during the Bloodbath.
I'm not the forgiving type, as you probably know.
"Well, now that she's dead, you don't have to worry anymore!" I explain, a sense of glee overtaking my emotions. For a second, the girl's eyes widen, a glimmer of hope shining deep inside — but I break down her optimism by shaking my head. "You don't have to worry about a quick death, I mean. Stabbing you in the head would've been automatic and painless. So boring, am I right?"
At that point, it's like the event is finally downloading in the girl's brain, because she lets out a pain-filled sob mixed with a scream. She shoves the decapitated body off of her, moaning in disgust, before trying to wipe the blood off of her face. But that yields no results. The stains on my hand are an example of how hard it is to clean that sticky liquid off.
"N-N-No, come on... P-Please don't..." Thankfully for her, the rain manages to clean a bit off — but it's obvious that the blood isn't the main problem. She'll never be able forget the face of that District Eleven girl. She'll never be able to forget the sound of her head being sliced off, nor the sight of a headless body. She'll be traumatized forever.
Deep down, so will you. You were messed up already, but now you're totally insane. You're the sad one here.
I laugh, shaking my head of those irrelevant thoughts. "You had so much fire inside the barn! What happened?"
The District Nine girl looks up at me, tears rolling down her cheeks. "What is wrong with you?" She questions, panting. "You're... You're insane. J-Just leave me—"
"DON'T TALK BACK TO ME!" I feel a sudden surge of rage flare throughout my body before stomping on her leg. I don't feel anything break, unfortunately, but the sudden pressure on her wound is agony enough, because she screams the loudest scream I've ever heard.
It's music to my ears. I retract my foot, smiling as she groans and sobs, shuddering. This is just too great. I can practice what I'm going to do to Kaya on this girl right here. And it's exactly what she deserves for taking my weapon during the Bloodbath. If she had a bit of respect, then maybe things would've turned out differently?
"I'm the one in control here, as you should know. So no being disrespectful, or things get a lot worse." My eyes suddenly notice a small glint on the ground beside her, and my smile somehow manages to get even bigger. It's my scimitar, the one she stole. Grabbing it off the ground, I see that not a smidge of blood is on it.
It's in perfect condition. How thoughtful of her to keep it clean for me.
"Now tonight is a good night," I say, chuckling a little. I hold both blades up, one in each hand. "I feel so powerful!" And not only that, but I can just feel the eyes of the audience, lapping up this encounter with bated breaths. I can feel my father's eyes, silently praising me. Never again will he look at me like a piece of tissue in the toilet.
I'll be important to him. It's the only thing I can truly say I want — oh, and Kaya's demise.
"Please..." The girl's still crying. I glance at her, hoping my disinterest shows. Now that I have both of my weapons, I could hardly care less about the Nine girl. Sure, she's still going to die, but maybe I'll make it quicker?
That's what I'm thinking of, when suddenly, my ears catch the sound of footsteps. I turn around and barely manage to bring my weapons up in time to block the fervent strikes of...of that District Ten bitch! What is she doing here?! She swipes at my head with a machete, but I knock her attack away before striking with my own two blades. Somehow, she manages to block and dodge all of my attacks, before suddenly running away.
Feeling a spike in temper, I glare at the stupid girl's retreating form. "Who do you think you are?! D-Don't run from me!"
She glances over her shoulders, giving me a toothy smirk in response. That alone is enough to make me forget about the whimpering District Nine girl and chase after the Ten girl, a ringing in my ears and a throbbing in my neck. These people just make me so angry! I will not allow these two whores to embarrass me in front of my father!
After chasing her for a while, she eventually stops running and meets my glare with a confident smile. I stop right in my tracks, trying to calm myself down a bit before going in for the kill. She's nothing. Just kill her and kill the other girl. That's all you have to do. But even I can't fully convince myself of this. Her smile is infuriating, but it's a bit ominous how calm she seems to be in the face of death.
"Well, what brings you all the way out here?" She asks, her tone flippant. It makes me even angrier, so much so that I stomp the ground in fury. "Um... How old are you again? Are you seriously having a tantrum right now..?"
"SHUT UP!" I scream, charging at her. I swipe at her head with my right scimitar, but she quickly ducks and tries to stab me with her machete. Thankfully, I have two blades, and use my left weapon to block and throw that attack away. She stumbles backwards — and seeing my chance, I stab both weapons at her chest.
She falls on the ground, avoiding the attack, before kicking at my knee. I buckle unceremoniously to the ground, cursing under my breath, the rage growing stronger and stronger with each second of being humiliated like this. Both of us on the ground now, I abandon my weapons and lunge at the Ten girl, falling on top of her and wrapping my hands right around her throat.
"Gah!" That smile of hers is wiped clean off as I tighten my grip, trying to strangle the life right out of her body. Die, die, die..! She thrashes against me, punching my arms and even my face, but I ignore the pain and focus on the prime objective. This girl dies tonight.
And then, out of nowhere, I feel an unimaginable pain in my groin. I scream, losing my grip — and she uses that opportunity to shove me away. For a moment, I forget about the Ten girl and writhe on the ground, my hands clutching my bruised genitalia. She kicked me in the balls!
And dammit, it hurts!
"You are..." She pants a little, before smiling that unbearable smile once again. "You're fucking psychotic. Come near me and my ally again, and you're dead."
The girl from District Ten picks up her machete, gives me one last arrogant smirk, and then runs off to where we left her wounded ally. I want to get up so bad. I want to torture them both, make them writhe and scream — but right now, with this ache in my groin, I can barely move. The feeling travels up to my stomach, making me nauseous — but no, no I will not throw up right now.
Look at you. First you can't find Kaya, and now that District Ten girl embarrassed you in front of everyone. Father's probably ridiculing you right now.
I force back the tears, a deep loathing settling in the pit of my stomach. She's going to pay for what she's done to me. I'll let them off the hook for now — but after I kill Kaya, those two bitches are dead.
And I'm going to enjoy every bit of it.
Meeko Brighton, 19th: Obviously Entei, I really found myself connecting with Meeko this chapter. She was intelligent, knew what had to be done if she wanted to live — but at the same time, everything that happened in the Arena affected her. She knew Koda wasn't going to make it very long, but it still hurt her. She knew that she'd have to kill, but that didn't make things emotionally easier. I found myself loving Meeko in this chapter, because she was finally becoming a real tribute, yet in the end she still wanted to keep her humanity and stay true to her faith. If I had connected with Meeko like this earlier, then maybe she would've gotten further. Unfortunately, her death was planned to move the story along and develop the other tributes more. May she rest in peace. :')
Author's Notes: I killed a tribute... ;-; I don't know how to feel. I'm sad for Meeko, but I'm excited that things are finally moving forward. After this death, things start moving faster and faster. So don't worry about the tributes taking too long to die, because I know some of you were getting bloodthirsty xD
I feel like I'm not good at action scenes, and the quality of this chapter suffered because of it. Hopefully this was a good read nonetheless?
What are your thoughts on each of these tributes? Which POV was your favorite and why? Which POV was your least favorite and why?
It's nighttime in the Arena — and suddenly, a seventeen-year-old male tribute attacks you! He says that if you give him all of your supplies, he'll let you live. Do you give in, or do you fight back?
I have more news. Now that I'm finally home, the blog will finally be updated with deaths and the like. I know the links aren't working for some reason, though, so if you need the url to the blog just PM me and I'll be happy to give it to you!
Also, I've made little obituary pictures for the dead tributes in this story! To find them, you can go to my DeviantART, which is on my profile. If the link doesn't work, though, don't be afraid to PM me!
And lastly, I'm really thankful for the reviews I've been getting so far. Seriously, you all are great. It's a real motivation booster when I'm stuck on a certain tribute and a review pops up. Thanks a lot, and keep it up!
Bai!