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Night Four.
A Cannon in the Wind;
The Fifth Hunger Games.
Adeline Callard, 18;
District One Female.
Kostos shoots another arrow in the sky, straight into the eagle's chest. I watch, horrified and nauseous, as the bird squawks out in pain and falls to the wet grass below. As soon as it makes impact with the ground, Kostos quickly rushes over and stomps the muttation's head in. I wince at the sound of it's skull crushing, but I hold back my protests; I know that a single arrow won't take these monsters out.
The bleeding gash on my ally's right arm is enough to prove that point. Never turn your back on an animal you think is dead, I remember my father telling me during one of our study sessions. Because they just may end up surprising you. The same goes for humans, too.
I always brushed off his morbid comments with a smile or a laugh, because things like that flew right over my head. My world was peaceful, happy, and downright enjoyable to live in. When was I ever going to have to worry about supposedly dead people, much less a wild animal?
If only I had known a little better, I just might have listened to my father more. He constantly pushed me hard, harder than I believed any girl my age should have been pushed — but now that I'm in the Games, I realize that he was just trying to protect me. He just wanted me to be prepared, if only slightly, should I ever end up in a situation like the one I am now.
Kostos takes his arrow out of the bird's carcass, wiping the blood off on its body. I watch, almost transfixed by how good he can look doing something so morally wrong. With the rain soaking his clothes to his slim body, I can't help but stare at the muscles peeking out under that outfit.
And now that we aren't with Echo and Terrance, I'm the only person he sees.
Stop it, Adeline! I mentally yell at myself, tearing my gaze away. What's wrong with you? You're in the Hunger Games. This isn't... This isn't the time for that.
It'll never be the time for that.
"Adeline," Kostos calls out, and I immediately snap out of my thoughts. He cracks a small smirk. "Thanks for having my back during that fight just now. You were really a big help."
I wince at the sting of his sarcasm, like an arrow flying into my heart. When the birds first attacked us, I sorta screamed and kept my distance, while Kostos quickly snapped into action and started shooting the mutts right out of the sky. I feel extraordinarily bad at the fact that I didn't help — but I just didn't think I could. All I have is this measly dagger, and the odds of me being able to stab one of those muttations without getting my eyes pecked out was considerably low.
Nonetheless, the fact that I didn't even try to help makes me feel extremely guilty. He definitely won't like me now. Nobody will care about the girl who ran away during a muttation attack.
"I..." My gaze travels to the ground, a depressing tendril wrapping around my soul. "I'm sorry..."
His laughter makes me raise my head. I stare at him curiously as he snickers, hiding his smile behind the back of his hand. "It's fine, Adeline," he says, still laughing. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt anyway. Everything's alright."
...He still likes me. I try to refrain myself from blushing, instead giving him one of my sincerest smiles. Back in District One, I always felt pressured to get other people to like me. I always felt like if I did the least thing wrong, my entire life would come crumbling down. So I was a people-pleaser, doing and saying everything that was expected of someone like me. I spent hours on my makeup, hours on my hair — and it worked. Everyone more-or-less liked me.
But I still felt inferior to the other girls, who would always flaunt their sexy boyfriends in my face. I wanted something like that. I wanted to be beautiful like them. And even my younger sister seemed to be living the good life, with her surplus of friends and charismatic boyfriend. My life was good, extremely so compared to the people of other districts — but I still wanted more.
Now that I'm in the Games, though, I don't really know if I can get more. Every moment here has been full of conflicting emotions, terrifying situations, gruesome images — and I can't, I just can't see myself getting out of here alive. I want to remain optimistic, but how am I supposed to do that when people like Kostos and Echo and Vesper are still alive and capable of killing me with a flick of their wrists?
And I don't want anyone to die, I think, biting my lip. My eyes sting — and for once, I allow the tears to trail down my face, camouflaged by the unending rain. Especially me. I don't want to die. I just want to go home...
After Kostos gets done retrieving all of his blood-stained arrows, he comes walking back towards me, smiling that gorgeous grin of his. Feeling self-conscious, I quickly wipe my face free of both tears and rain, plastering on a fake smile. I can forget about my insecurities and selfishness when I'm around Kostos — if only momentarily.
"I think that we should find some shelter for the night," he says, attaching the bow and arrows to his back. "I thought that the rain would've stopped by now, but I guess not. I hope Echo and Terrance are nice and comfy in their barn."
"Yeah." It scares me to think this, but I really don't want them to be alright. I really want them pay for kicking Kostos and I out of their group.
I want them to die — and that scares me so, so much. Is this what the Arena does to people like me? Does it really force the deepest, darkest parts of ourselves out into the light like this?
He starts walking away, motioning for me to follow. And suffice to say, I do follow. We walk through the dark, windy, rain-filled fields for what feels like an hour, but must only be a couple of minutes. Kostos casually mentions seeing a large tree earlier, and I quickly agree that that would be a good place to rest. As the rain starts to slowly settle down to a soft drizzle, and the area around us gets darker and darker, Kostos and I finally start seeing the outline of an enormous tree in the distance.
But with it is something else. Something that makes my blood run cold, that forces my throat to close up.
There's a fire. A small fire by the trunk of the tree, protected from the rain by the thick branches and leaves. And with a fire like that, a fire used for cooking and heat, there can only be one thing that accompanies it.
Other tributes.
Kostos grabs my hand as soon as I move to take a step back. A warm heat spreads across my face at the feel of his soft palm, and his fingers wrapping around mine. It takes all of my strength not to shiver, despite the situation.
But then the situation comes back to the forefront of my brain — and no, no I can not do this right now. I've never been in a fight for my entire life, and I am not ready to change that. Hunger Games or not, innocent kids can't just be killing each other like this!
And most of all, you don't want to die. Going to that fire is the equivalent of dressing up for your own funeral. Don't do it, Adeline! Turn around and run away, Adeline!
That's what I'm about to do; I'm about to turn around, tell Kostos to follow me, and walk away to somewhere safer. But then the boy from Two stares me straight in the eyes, our fingers still entangled, his lips quirked up into a soft smile…
"Adeline, I know you don't want to do this," he begins, "but we have to. Who knows what'll happen to us if we stay unprotected in this weather? And I don't imagine those rich Capitol folks will be very pleased with us if we just decide to run away."
I should protest. I should stomp my feet, shake my head, and explain to Kostos that I'm just not capable of doing things like this. He might be able to take a life without a hint of remorse — something I still can't quite come to terms with — but I know that I can't.
If I were to kill someone, my mind would break in half.
But with him staring at me, our eyes interlocked, the rain matting his blond hair to the front of his face… I can't say no. I can't risk our relationship worsening over something like this. Alliances always end up with one member either abandoning or betraying the other — and I can't have our alliance turning into something like that. I won't be able to cope with the fact of being alone.
I need him, everyone, to like me.
"Okay." I exhale, ever so gently, staring into those blue orbs of his. Squeezing his hand, I repeat myself: "Okay."
Kostos smiles, ever so swiftly, before he turns away and grimaces at the fire. Still holding my hand, he starts walking towards the flickering light, and I follow at a quick pace. My legs feel like lead and my feet are burning in protest, but I stifle those anxiety-filled phantom pains and continue walking towards the unfortunate tribute trying to warm up with a fire.
I'm sorry, I think, closing my eyes for a split moment of peace. I'm so, so sorry...
When I open my eyes, Kostos lets go of my hand — and sitting in front of the fire, staring at us with widened eyes, are the two female tributes from District Nine and Ten. The girl from Nine looks like she's been through a lot, with her messy hair covering half of her face and a blood-stained bandage wrapped around her thigh. The girl from Ten, though, looks relatively unarmed except for the dirt stained on her clothes. Even with the rain and wind, she somehow manages to pull off a totally flawless look, almost like some Capitol model.
Why can't I look like that? I think, before subtly shaking my head. No, I can't think about that. I can't.
"Hello, ladies," Kostos says, the hint of a smile in his voice — and I have to admit, I'm a teensy-bit jealous that my ally has his attention on the two beautiful girls in front of him. It makes me feel so much more bad about myself. "Sorry to say, but we need a shelter for the night, and this is the best place we can find. Thanks for the warm fire, though!"
The girl from Nine shifts uncomfortably, shooting a look at her blonde ally. The girl from Ten doesn't say anything — not yet, at least. She slowly stands up from the ground, dusting herself off — and in the corner of my eye, I see a glint of steel hiding behind her back. A weapon. I watch, slightly horrified, as Kostos unsheathes his own knife.
"So what, you're just gonna walk up like you own the place and then demand for us to leave?" She scoffs, a small smile sliding on her lips. The more and more time that passes, the more thicker the air gets, and the more I know that this encounter isn't going to end very well. "Sorry, but we aren't in the business of giving out loans. It's either you leave us alone, or you're killing us."
I wince at the severity of her words, at the prospect of death. We're all human, all with likes and dislikes — and now, we're so easily being reduced to animals who fight over even the smallest bit of shelter. I... I can't let this happen. I can't let two or maybe even all of us die because of something as insignificant as this.
Before I can speak, though, Kostos replies.
"You said it, not me," he mumbles, a slight melancholy in his voice. And then, with the speed of a dragonfly, he whips out his bow and snatches out an arrow.
"No, stop!" I scream — but that doesn't stop the girl from Ten.
She quickly springs into action, large machete in her hand, and charges at Kostos and I. Self-preservation kicking in, I run to the left, while Kostos quickly nocks his arrow and attempts to shoot her straight in the face. Attempts. The girl from Ten swipes with her weapon, hitting Kostos' bow and messing up his trajectory. The arrow goes flying somewhere to the right — and seeing her chance, the Ten girl swipes at Kostos' head.
My heart stops. No..! Kostos can't die. I know that I don't want to die, not at all, but Kostos Sylett can not die. More than the fear of losing myself in this place is the fear of being alone. If I'm alone, there'll be nobody to help distract me from my depression. If I'm alone, there'll be nobody to stop me from doing something horrible to myself.
And I love Kostos. He's given me the attention and care I've been craving for my entire life. Despite being a killer, he actually has a kind heart. He actually likes me.
And I can't let anyone take that away from me.
London Tienna, 18;
District Ten Female.
These two could not have come at a worse time. Toren is still injured and gravely traumatized, while I literally just got done killing a few rabid squirrel mutts. Not only that, but it's dark and raining and definitely not the right atmosphere for a fight.
...It'll be okay, though, I think, charging at Kostos and Adeline. I'm not going to lose just because it's wet.
I know that I should be a bit cautious over the fact that these two are apart of the Pack — but reluctance to action is exactly what kills tributes like me. The Pack uses the tributes' fear as an advantage, because while they can just easily focus on killing, the reaped tributes are too busy trying to run away.
I'm not letting that happen to me. I promised myself that I was going to win, that nothing was going to rip me away from this world. I might be too cheerful at times, and I might have a one-track mind — but I'm confident in my abilities, and I'm not going to be killed by these two.
Adeline jumps away, screaming something unimportant, leaving me face-to-face with Kostos. He levels the bow at my face, eyes narrowed — but before he can shoot, I strike out with my machete, knocking his bow out of my direction. Got you. He's not carrying a close-ranged weapon, and I know I can move fast enough to cut his head off at such close quarters.
For a split second, my mind latches onto that image. Could I actually cut someone's head off? Am I really that sort of person, to mercilessly kill without a spare thought? What would Lucas think, seeing me doing something like this? What about my mom, my dad, my sister? Would they be alright with me being a cold-blooded murderer?
Everything's moving too fast to think. I know I'm a good person. I am. Kostos volunteered for this. He's the bad guy here. Not me, but him. Him.
I just want to live, to win, to overcome this obstacle that the Capitol so callously placed in my path.
With a reassured state of mind, I raise my machete once more before quickly swinging it at Kostos' neck. I expect to feel the sensation of skin cutting away, of blood pouring on my hands. That doesn't happen, though; I've overestimated my speed. Kostos ducks under my strike, insanely fast, before shoving me away.
"Shit!" I stumble backwards, cursing myself for allowing him to put more space between us — but I realize, as my back hits something hard, that Kostos just might be the least of my problems.
I don't even get a chance to turn around. All I hear is Adeline's piercing scream in my ears before I feel something cold and wet plunge into my shoulder, slicing through my skin and muscle and stabbing straight in the bone. I scream, pain pulsing out of my shoulder and spreading all throughout my brain like wildfire. She stabbed me! is all I can think, before a flash of painful colors overtake my vision. She fucking stabbed me!
The wound isn't fatal, though, and definitely not enough to hold me down. Faster than I've ever moved in my eighteen years, I spin around and punch the blonde girl straight between the eyes. She screams, falling to the ground, cradling her nose — and with pain and anger at the forefront of my mind, I snatch the knife out of my shoulder and angrily throw it at her.
Calm down, London, I think, trying to fight through my pain and indignation. Don't get flustered. The fight isn't over. You need to win.
Turning away from Adeline's whimpering body, I come face-to-face with Kostos' arrow aimed straight at my head. Without skipping a beat, I jump to the left, just as he shoots. The arrow cuts the the air, faster than a bullet, and I wince at the sting that cuts across my right ear. Tears spring to my eyes, but I quickly blink them away and charge once more at Kostos.
This time, though, he's prepared. He quickly slides out a knife, half the size of my machete, and swiftly raises it up in defense. Undeterred and driven by the pulsing pain, I continue towards him, lashing out once again with my machete. I swipe at his neck, but he blocks and pushes my weapon away — before stabbing at my stomach. He's fast! I think, twisting out of the way, inches away from being gored.
"You're good," he says, striking out again. I bring up my machete to block the knife, the sound of screeching metal blocking out any outside interference. With a grin, I slash at his torso, and he barely manages to jump back in time. A long line of red cuts across his stomach.
"I know I'm good," I say proudly, watching as he stumbles back and gingerly pats at his newly-acquired wound. It's a shallow cut, yeah, but it's a cut nonetheless.
The adrenaline in my veins are flowing faster than they've ever flowed before. I'm in a fight with Kostos, District Two volunteer — and I'm not dead yet. I even injured him! Just the mere thought is enough to make me smile, because it proves just how competent I really am, how nothing in this Arena could possibly kill me. I'm going to win, and nothing is going to stop—
"Kostos!" Adeline suddenly screams, panic in her voice. I turn around, curious as to what could be wrong — and I'm utterly shocked at the sight of Adeline and Toren squaring off in a knife-fight. My ally seems to be winning, but it's obvious by the look on her face that every step she takes is filled with pain. She's still too injured to be at one-hundred-percent.
Still, she's winning. That's why Adeline is screaming, because just one misstep could be her last. I didn't know Toren was this skilled at fighting, or this prepared to take a life, but it looks like the trauma of her near-death experience has made her realize that fighting is the only way she'll be able to live.
"You go, girl!" I yell, a wave of ecstasy flowing through me. We're going to win this. We're not going to let these guys beat us! "Make her regret ever challenging us!"
My words must spur Toren on, because her attacks instantly become a lot more aggressive. For a fifteen-year-old, this girl is strong. Adeline screams again, instantly on the defensive, blocking and dodging every single second. She wants her cute ally to help her — but no, Kostos is too busy with me.
She's dead, I think, and that's when my world comes crashing down.
Taking advantage of my distraction, Kostos quickly picks up his bow and shoots an arrow straight at Toren. My eyes widen in shock, a scream sitting at the back of my throat — but thankfully, Toren sees the weapon flying at her and stumbles out of the way just in time. I almost sigh in relief. Almost. Toren stumbles right into Adeline, who uses this one opportunity she has to lash out.
Time slows down. My gaze is locked on Adeline's eyes, wide and fearful and full of tears. And then my eyes move over to Toren, her beautiful green orbs widened in absolute shock.
As my vision settles on the blood-soaked dagger in Adeline's hands, the dagger I threw back at her, time goes back to it's regular speed. I watch, sick and horrified, as Adeline stabs the knife straight into Toren's neck.
I look away, just as a loud BOOM shakes the Arena.
"No!" I scream, squeezing my eyes shut, hands over my mouth to keep from vomiting. "No, no, no!" She's dead. Toren is dead. My ally, my friend, a girl I could've easily called my sister is dead. How could this happen? This wasn't supposed to happen! We were supposed to fight through the competition and come out on top — and now she's dead?! No, no no no no NO!
And the worst part is that you're the reason she's dead. In your anger, you threw the knife back at Adeline. You gave the weapon to the girl that killed your friend.
And not only that, but you got distracted while you should've been finishing Kostos off, or even jumping in to help Toren. Instead, you just watched, absolutely powerless to do anything as the knife entered her neck.
You should be ashamed of yourself.
"I'm sorry, but this is just what happens in the Games," the boy from Two says. I don't even turn around to look at him; I know what's about to happen to me. I screwed up, badly, and I'm about to face the consequences. All I can do is stand still, tears trailing from my eyes, a painful guilt tearing me up from the inside.
With my tear-stained vision, I can barely make out the silhouette of Toren's lifeless body, lying motionless on the wet grass. I want to run over there. I want to sit with my friend, one last time, before everything goes black. But I don't deserve that. I don't deserve to be with the girl that was inadvertently killed by my idiocy.
Adeline is on the ground, sobbing, screaming incoherently. She looks absolutely pitiful. And why should she? It's not like anyone made her bother us. It's not like anyone made her fight. It's not like anyone made her kill my ally. I know I shouldn't be angry, considering where we are right now — but I am. I'm so, so very angry and sad and scared.
I don't want to die.
But I deserve it.
"I'm sorry…!" With a gut-wrenching sob, I close my eyes once again — and that's when I completely fall apart. I cry, and cry, and cry. Because Toren is dead, dead, and I'm going to die, die, and it's not fair, not fair, and I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to—
Kostos shoots the arrow. I tense up, as if it'll stop the weapon from ripping through my back and flying out of my chest. It doesn't. Pain, unimaginable pain, so much pain. My chest feels like it's on fire. It hurts, my body hurts, my soul hurts. Everything hurts and I can't even scream because that'll just make it hurt more.
I don't look down at the fatal wound; I barely have the chance. My legs give out from under me, and I
collapse onto the wet ground below. Shivering in complete agony, I can feel the life slowly seep out of my body. It hurts more than words could ever explain.
I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. Everything is getting blurry, dark — and I'm scared, I'm so scared, I don't want to die here, I don't want to die at all.
Mom, Dad, Liah, Lucas... Please forgive me. Please...don't forget about me. I know that I wasn't the best daughter, sister, and girlfriend...but please remember me. Remember the smiling, undaunted London. Remember the cocky, optimistic London. Remember the sweet, loving London.
And Toren... I'm so, so sorry. I know that nothing will ever be able to make up for what happened, but I just want you to know that you were the most awesome girl I've ever met. You were smart, graceful, and at peace with the world — and yet, you were swallowed by the same world you loved so much. It's just so cruel, so wrong... And I'm just so sorry, Toren. I... I just hope you'll be able to forgive me, wherever you are right now...
Wherever I'm about to end up.
All at once, the pain becomes absolutely unbearable, and the world around me fades away. The last thing I see is the gentle sway of the grass, beckoning me to close my eyes and relax in death's embrace.
If only death knew how to treat a lady...
BOOM!
Ceres Cantrell, 13;
District Six Female.
This is the worst.
At the sound of another cannon, I can't stop the scowl from forming on my face. Does the Capitol really think it's cool to see teenagers dying? Do they think that it's hip to enjoy the blood of innocent adolescents? They might be cheering at the prospect of another death — but with every cannon that rocks this Arena, it reminds me of my own mortality. It reminds me that I'm going to be one of those deaths soon enough.
Yet at the same time, the sound of cannon-fire gives me hope. It even makes me feel relieved. I haven't taken the time to count how many deaths there have been since the Games have started, but I like to believe that about half of us are long gone. And if someone like me, some girl who cringes at the mere idea of wearing a dress, can make it this long...
I don't know. It makes me feel like I could potentially win. For that, I'm glad — but at the same time, I'm disgusted. I'm disgusted with the Capitol, with the other tributes, with myself. Hidden deep inside, there's a side of me that's actually glad for this spike in deaths. There's a part of me that actually wants the other tributes to die, so that I can get out of this crazy farm.
It's so conflicting, so much so that I almost feel like vomiting. I hate the Hunger Games for changing me; I hate the Capitol for finding amusement out of our deaths; I hate Michael for leaving me alone; I hate—
—Michael.
At the thought of my cheerful ally, I cringe. I wasn't... I wasn't supposed to get attached to anyone. I came to the Capitol thinking that nobody would approach me, that I'd stay in the background like I always had. And yet, Michael Riverbee from District Five befriended and broke away my introverted personality in the matter of a few days. I loved the way he seemed to smile at anything and everything. I loved the way he joked about our upcoming death match, as if it wasn't going to happen. And maybe he really did think that the Games would be cancelled, that it was all just some big joke.
But that didn't last. He changed. Common sense would've been to abandon the idea of an alliance and venture out on my own — but I just couldn't get away from him. I couldn't forget the Michael that he used to be, before the Capitol did what they do best and turned him into someone he's not.
Whenever I close my eyes and really visualize, I can almost see his grinning face again. I can almost feel the warmth of his hands in mine...
Shaking my head, I try my best to forget about him and to continue walking. Absolutely the worst, I can't help but think, forcing back the tears. Nothing could equal the heart-wrenching pain I feel deep inside.
Pushing those thoughts away, I stop walking and look around at the environment I've stumbled into. Unlike the rest of the Arena, with rolling hills of grass and a few dilapidated houses, this part of the Arena is a forest of gigantic wheat stalks. The tallest one is about two times my height! This would probably be a beautiful environment, something you'd only see once in a lifetime — but the shroud of darkness that covers everything, mixed with the wind and rain, makes this place almost nightmarish.
I wouldn't have even come into this forest-like environment if I wasn't too paranoid of sleeping out in the open. People are dying, and I just don't want that to happen to me. I might want this all to hurry up and end, but that doesn't mean I'll submit myself to death. I might be depressed, but I haven't hit rock bottom like Michael. Not yet.
"This will be good shelter for the night," I say aloud — as if I have an audience. I doubt the Capitol would be broadcasting me right now, though. Not that I care if they do; I just need to get my thoughts out into the atmosphere, or the intense loneliness I feel will drive me insane.
I sit down on the cold, wet ground — and I wait. I wait for the Capitol Anthem to appear in the sky, to reveal the four deaths of today. I want to say something along the lines of this being awful, or that seeing the faces of dead children will make me cry, but I can't even lie to myself anymore. If there's anyone that needs to be dead today, it's Michael's murderers. Echo, Kostos, Terrance, Adeline. They all deserve to die for the inhumane acts they're doing in this place.
Not only that, but their deaths will exponentially boost your chances, I add, exhaling deeply. Don't let your emotions control you again, Ceres. You need to think about the big picture.
That's right. I'm depressed and pissed off, but I can't let my ally's demise bring me to oblivion. If I'm going to win, I'm going to need to play this smart. I'm going to need to turn into someone who doesn't care about others, into someone that only has victory in mind.
...What a delightful girl you're growing into. Shaking my head, I stare up at the starry night sky, droplets of rain falling on my face. Why haven't they revealed the deaths yet? My eyes are getting droopy, and I know for a fact that this is about the time they usually show it. Is something wrong?
...Unless they're expecting another death.
The exact moment that thought comes to mind, I hear a loud crunch a few feet to my left. Either that's a bloodthirsty muttation, or it's another tribute. And I don't particularly want to encounter either.
Jumping off the ground, I hold my breath, a tension-filled silence overcoming everything. This is just great, I want to mumble, but my lips are shut tight. I'm frozen in place, eyes widened, ears outstretched to hear any other noise other than my heart beating like a hammer. Please don't let it be anything, I plead, biting my bottom lip. Please. I can't deal with anyone on my own...
I wait for what feels like a millennia, when it only must be a few seconds. Blinking, I slowly turn my head towards the location of the noise — and staring back at me, deadpan look on his face, is the sixteen-year-old boy from District Nine. He's apart of the Pack, is the first thing that comes to mind. He's deadly. He and his goons could kill me.
He and his goons killed Michael.
I stare at him, and he stares at me, and I take in the weird-looking sword in his hand, and he takes in the lack of weapons in my hands, and we say or do nothing except stare.
And then, the boy from Nine sighs. "You know what needs to happen."
I can't help it; I make what could be my last sarcastic remark. "You're gonna tell me a bedtime story?"
And all Hell breaks loose. He swipes at my head with his sword, and I duck and roll out of the way just in time to avoid decapitation. Jumping to my feet, I set my eyes on a destination — but in this forest of yellow wheat, there is no destination. I don't know where to run, how to get out, and what to do to avoid imminent death.
I'm going to die. Oh Hell no, you cannot die here! You can't!
I turn around — and duck once again, barely avoiding his weapon's deadly slash. He curses under his breath, charging at me, and I jump to the left, dodging a kick that would've knocked out my teeth. I need to get away! I think, my heart beating faster than its every beat before. It doesn't matter where, I just need to GO!
I start to run, knocking the tall trees of wheat out of my way. Every one I knock over, though, it's like another one replaces. This field of wheat is like an endless maze — and I'm the dumb tribute that's gotten stuck in it. I continue running, though, knowing that stopping or turning would just mean my death. The boy from Nine follows, however, his sharp breaths sounding a clock that counts down the moment of defeat.
"Please..!" My legs are getting tired, and the only thing I can think of is to plead for my life. But I know that won't work. This boy is determined on killing me, just like he killed my ally. No amount of begging will work.
No amount of running will work.
If it's a fight you want..! Spinning around, I come face-to-face with the boy from Nine and his sword of doom. For a split second, his eyes widen and he stumbles to avoid crashing into me — and at the moment, this one second of possibility, I jump at him.
My knees dig deep into his stomach as we topple to the ground. He cries out in pain, dropping his sword and grabbing at my hair — but with fear driving me, and the knowledge that this guy is apart of the reason that Michael is dead, I fight through the pain and slam my fist straight into his nose.
"Argh!" He screams in outrage, punching my head. For a second, my eyes flash, and a dizzying pain overcomes me. But I bite my lip, glare through the pain, and hit him straight in the eye. He screams again, and I punch him again, and he yells, and I punch, and punch, and punch.
"This is for killing my friend!" I scream, my fists covered in something wet and sticky. He doesn't even fight back anymore; he just moans, weakly trying to cover up his bruised face. I don't give him a moment of peace, though; I continue lashing out, clawing at his arms and pounding his nose when he lets up his guard.
Ceres! What are you doing?!
I suddenly freeze, my fist inches away from coming down on his eye. I stare at the boy under me, at his bleeding nose and his bruised lip. I did this to him. My gaze travels down to my hands, covered in crimson red blood. Actual blood. I... Am I supposed to be proud? Am I supposed to be jumping at the chance to kill this guy, just because he killed my ally?
I'm not like them. I'm not... I'm not ready to actually take another person's life. Especially not with my own two hands.
"What..?" The boy from Nine croaks out, panting. I snap my eyes back down towards him — but he doesn't wince. He just meets my stare head-on. "Aren't you going to kill me..? Aren't you going to avenge your ally?"
I gulp, a deep feeling of absolute dread in the pit of my stomach. "I can't..."
"If you're not gonna kill me, then you should just give up now. If you're going to get out of here, then you're going to have to kill." He chuckles, a faraway look in his eyes. "I can't believe this... How am I getting beat to the ground by a little girl..?"
"Don't call me a little girl," I snap, but wince when I realize where I am. I'm not in District Six, talking to my dad. I'm in the Hunger Games, minutes away from severely hurting a guy three years older the game me.
Slowly getting off of him, I clench my eyes shut to stop the tears. I don't dare look at my hands again, covered in something it should not be covered in. This is why I hate the Capitol; at the exact moment of danger, they easily turn you into someone you never thought you'd be. They turned me into...this.
But no, I didn't kill him. I didn't fully contort to their game. They still don't have power over me. They'll never have power over me.
"...Leave me alone," I say, opening my eyes and glaring at him. He slowly sits up, but doesn't make any move for the weapon just a few feet away. "Just leave me alone, okay? Don't follow me." My voice cracks, an intense sorrow hitting me straight in the heart. This is where I am right now. It's finally hit me. This is where I am and what other kids are doing.
I can't become like them. I just want to go home. Why is it so hard for me to just go home?
With one last look at the boy who almost took away my humanity, I turn around and start running away. I know that he could easily follow my trail and kill me in my sleep — but right now, I really can't bring myself to care. I just want to curl into a ball and wake up in my house, surrounded by the few people I actually care about.
Mom, dad, Mary, Tyson...and Michael. Don't lose hope in me - the real me. I promise that I won't succumb to these horrible people. I promise that I won't break.
I'll come back to you guys, and I'll whine about everything just like usual.
My eyes are finally open after years and years of thinking they already were.
And nothing, not a single thing, will drag me down now.
Toren Ingalls, 15th: Olive, when I got Toren, I immediately fell in love with her tranquil personality. She was so normal, so realistic, and I just loved that about her. But then, in the Capitol, I realized that she was slowly fading into the background. I didn't even have an alliance to place her in! But then, the beautiful image of her and London teaming up came to my mind, and I'm glad it did. These two were almost polar opposites, yet they were perfect for each other. They were like real-life friends, and I just loved writing them. Toren's calm nature and London's outgoing nature clashed so perfectly, and many people wondered why they were even working together. Heck, I don't even know how something like that started! But that's what made it real, because I don't think you can choose your best friend. You two are drawn to each other, and that's exactly what happened to London and Toren. Toren was just so, so real. Unfortunately, it was just Toren's time to go, along with her ally. I hope she rests in peace.
London Tienna, 14th: Kelly, do you remember when you were questioning me on where London and Kostos placed, and I told you that she was gonna place 11th? Yeah, I lied. :/ Back then, I honestly didn't know where anyone would place, but I knew that London was a fighter and that she'd make it pretty far. And she did! When I first got London's form, I loved her. I loved her a LOT. And it's funny, because you only submitted her because you thought that I would decline Kostos (which I would have never done LMAO). When I first started writing London, I found it so hard yet so easy at the same time to get into her one-track train of thought. I don't know how it happened, but she even became a Capitol favorite! She was almost perfect. Unfortunately, in the Capitol, I found myself without an alliance to place her in. I thought of having her get into the Eion/Isabel/Ricky alliance, but she wouldn't have fit in there. And then came Toren, someone else who I couldn't really place in an alliance - and boom, the dream team was made! London was just so happy, so cheerful and so confident that she didn't even have to worry about anything during the Capitol. I feel like if she hadn't gotten attached, something she never even thought of happening, then she could have made it much much farther. Unfortunately, Toren was killed because of London's one-track mind, and London couldn't have coped with that. This was just her time to go. Thank you for submitting her, bae!
Author's Notes: oh god, I just killed two more of my beautiful tributes. As you can see, things are starting to move along faster and faster with each chapter. We're almost down to half-tributes, and GOD I just can't even imagine it. I started this story like 9 months ago and we're FINALLY getting down to the nitty-gritty. I hope you all are excited, because I am!
What are your thoughts on each of these tributes? Which POV was your favorite and why? Which POV was your least favorite and why?
With everything that's been going on, which tribute do you see dying next? And which tribute do you think will kill them?
By the way, I just opened my next SYOT, "Eternal Youth." It would mean a lot to me if you guys decided to submit! :)
Don't forget to review me, baes! I've said this time and time again, but they really motivate me to keep this story going strong! Even though school is really getting in my way of updating, I'm not quite ready to throw in the towel! You can help me by reviewing~!
BAI!