Day 6:

Avonlea Headden, 18
District 4 Female

I hear a scream.

Immediately, my eyes dart open and I spring up. It's still dark, despite the sky slowly turning pink as the Sun begins to rise, but I can barely make out somebody standing up. I pat the ground, trying to grab the flashlight I keep beside my sleeping bag.

When I turn it on, the beam lands on a shaking Olympia. She's bent over, arms crossed and fingers digging into her skin as she stares down at…oh…oh my God!

"Cy!" I yell out, throwing the top of my sleeping bag off me. He's lying on the ground beside the Cornucopia, completely still. A large bruise sits on the side of his head. Panicking, I tap two fingers to the inside of his wrist to feel a pulse, like they taught me in training. Come on, please be alive, I can't lose him, I can't-

"Avonlea." Olympia puts a hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I know how-"
"No! He's still alive! He has to be!" The alternative is unacceptable. I feel a pulse. It's light and slowish, but it's there. He's alive. He's still with me. Cy's not gone.

"Who had the bandages last?" I ask. "Was it Vivian? Can you get them?"
Olympia glances around frantically. "Vivian's not here."
"What!?"
"I don't see them! Vivian and Arietis!"

They left. They left. They left and Cy tried to stop them and all he was rewarded with is this. I don't know how to feel. All I want is Cy to wake up and comfort me. I gently lie his limp hand back down on his face. Tears pool in my eyes. Why? Why must all this happen?

Fuck. I want Cy. I want him so bad.

"What the hell happened here?" Prism. They've pulled out an axe and walk around Cy as they survey the scene. "What happened to him?"

"I don't know!" I wail. "But it must've been something Vivian and Arietis did! Look, they're not here. Do you think Cy will be okay?"
"I dunno," Prism admits. "If he hasn't woken up by now, he might never."

"No, he's not dead!" It's unthinkable. Cy isn't dead. Can't be. "Look, his chest is moving. We just gotta him patched up and then-"

Prism shakes their head. "Doesn't matter. He's a dead man walking."
"Prism-" Olympia starts to say.
"No. Cy was already nothing but a load to this alliance and now he's practically useless. He isn't gonna wake up."

"You don't know that!" I screech. Prism shushes at me, but I don't care. I can't lose the one ally that actually cares for me. I can't. I…I love Cy. I don't want to lose him.

Prism's grip tightens on their axe. Shit. Shit! Before I can move to intercept and yank that wretched weapon out of Prism's hands, Olympia is grabbing onto me and suddenly yanking me back. "Avonlea! Don't!"

Prism's axe blade slices the back of my hand open. Undeterred, they bring it right down onto Cy's chest and slice it open. The blade gets stuck. Cy gurgles. I sob.

Olympia grabs my shoulders and steers me into the Cornucopia. "I'm sorry. Avonlea, I'm so sorry."
"He wasn't dead…"
"Is your hand okay?"

"My hand." It feels numb instead of pained. A small trickle of blood runs down my wrist, staining my skin red. "I don't know. I just…I don't…why!? Why did I let Prism…why?"
"I'm sorry," Olympia says again.

The cannon fires. My mouth goes dry as I choke back another sob. My legs feel like they're made out of mist and I have steady myself against a crate of sleeping equipment. But now I have to sit down. My heart pounds.

Prism stalks back into the Cornucopia and chucks their axe against the side of it. I hear the impact and I don't bother looking up at the offending weapon whose blade I just know is covered in Cy's blood. Olympia wordlessly gives me a roll of bandages that just sit loosely in my good hand.

"You can stay back and watch the supplies." Prism's words are like little daggers that cause my throat to constrict even more. I only barely register their voice. "Olympia, let's get a move on."
Olympia stares at me with worry; I don't want it. She begins to shake again. "Prism, I-"
"Let's go!"

Olympia scurries out without any more protest. I wait until they both leave for good before retreating to my sleeping bag. I lie down on it and finally let all the pent up tears fall.

Loire Lemaire, 16
District 5 Female

The cannon shakes me from my early morning thoughts. It echoes in my ears, signaling the unfortunate death of yet another tribute. Or enemy? No, tribute. Tonight, we'll find out who it is. I know it must sound strange to an outsider for my thoughts to be so casual but after almost a week in the arena…

I'm used to it. Morbid, but the cannon doesn't make me jump as much as it used to. I remember the first day, how it made my heart pound and my stomach churn like crazy. Now, it almost fades into the background of the mess hall's harsh electric lights and their hums.

Mila, who's been sleeping after taking the earlier shift last night, lifts her head. "What happened? Did I miss something?"
"Someone died."
"Wow. It's early in the day for that."

"I know," I muse. "What a rude way to wake up, am I right?"
Mila yawns and I find myself yawning as well. Just then, my ears pick up another noise. More sponsor gifts. It makes my heart surge happily a little, to know we still have people on our side who want to look out for us.

Two gifts show up one after the other. The first is a book for Mila. The second is a tin labelled with a note for me.

Loire,

Good job looking after her. She needed it.

-Bennet

I pry open the lid of the tin to reveal a small set of six bite sized loaves of square bread. Mila's eyes widen once she sees it. "That's the bread from my district!"
"Really?" I wasn't expecting that. I didn't think it was even allowed to send food from a different district to me. But I pull out two of the still warm rolls. Mila and I bite into them and God, is it the most amazing food in the world. Eating freshly baked bread after almost a week of packaged products in little heaven.

As we eat, I show Mila the note and she hums. "That was awfully nice of Bennet."
"I know. I'm just not sure why he sent this to me over you."
"As a thank you?" Mila suggests. "Bennet's…like that. I guess. He works in mysterious ways, but he's a really nice guy once you get to know him. He's just kinda reserved and closed off."

I remember overhearing Alexia and Aaliyah talking about Bennet in the Capitol. The reputation he has. How Mila, someone so sensitive and vulnerable, was the perfect vessel to crack open such a controversial mentor and get him to work with his tribute instead of leaving them to their own devices.

"I think you're right," is what I land on as my answer. If Mila trusts Bennet, then that's good enough for me too.

Mila opens the book. "Homestuck. Vick liked to talk about Homestuck a lot. I hope this means they're okay."
My district partner is long dead and nothing but a distant echo, but still I shudder anyways. "You think Bennet is telling you the cannon was for them?"
"I certainly hope not! Maybe Bennet is trying to cheer me up by reminding me of them. Homestuck seemed to make Vick so happy. And they're from home too, so…maybe that's what Bennet is thinking."

Well, at the very least, we have something to read to pass the time. I scoot closer to Mila as she cracks open the book. Admittedly, I have no familiarity with Homestuck at all, and Mila seems to be in a similar boat. But the art inside makes me think of the paintings I left behind at home. I want to paint again. Inspiration occasionally strikes me and then I'm forced to remember that I have no canvases to put down my ideas on. My fingers itch to create and I can't even do that.

"I miss my paintings."

The words slip from my lips without me even realizing what I've said until Mila looks up at me suddenly and it dawns. I cover my mouth in surprise a little. "Whoops."
Mila laughs. "It's alright. Tell me about the stuff you painted!"

I launch into the tale of the mural I made for the District 5 Training Centre, doing my best not to really bring up that it's a training centre of course. Storytelling makes the time pass by hilariously fast and simultaneously not at all.

Reggie Baxter, 18
District 12 Male

Something's up with the Careers. I have no idea what it is, but I know that things aren't what they appear to be. We didn't risk the odds of running into any of them today unlike normal.

Then there was that cannon that rudely woke me up this morning and…I dunno. I hope it was something to do with the Careers but who knows at this point?

I find myself walking small laps with Kerkylas to pass the time. It may seem silly at first, and yeah I still know that I look like an idiot just pacing around in circles, but what else is there for me to do? Garnet's leg is all healed. I feel unneeded. Useless.

I hate feeling like this. Like I'm not important. Like people don't rely on me. It's always been that way; I'm the one to go to when something is wrong. So when everything is as fine as things can be, where do I fit in? What do I do when I am so irrelevant all of a sudden?

The day passes without much fanfare. To help pass the time, Kerkylas and Garnet share stories from home. Garnet keeps offering me the chance to tell one, but I keep declining. I can only think of one story, and no way in hell am I sharing that.

Gradually, the sky begins to darken. I rummage through our supplies and a pit forms in my stomach. We have no more food or water. This isn't good. How the hell are we supposed to last much longer without the very bare necessities for supplies? Are we just doomed to slow deaths by thirst or starvation?

"Fuck," I hear behind me as Kerkylas comes up. "No food? I was just about to ask."
"Nothing," I groan in frustration. "Fuck is right because honestly, unless the sponsors take pity on us, we're fucked."

Kerkylas flexes and sighs at the size of his muscles. "Damn it. I think I might be losing mass already."
"You probably are," I point out. "But what can we do?"
"Simple. We raid the Cornucopia."

Kerkylas and Garnet both glance over at me, probably expecting me to offer a rebuttal. But I don't have one, because I realize that Kerkylas might be right yet again. I can't shoot the plan down just because he suggested it.

Truth is, we have no food or water and we're in desperate need of it. The Careers have been silent today, maybe wrought with paranoia or tension. We have to use that to our advantage and try to take some supplies from the Cornucopia while we still have that opening.

But again. Careers. Trained teenagers who have killed before and might be itching to kill again. Is it worth it for us?

"Tomorrow," I finally decide. "Let's see who died today, and then we'll figure out a plan tomorrow. Besides, it's late and they've probably finished their hunting for the day."

I half expect Kerkylas to protest and now it's my turn to stare over at him. But instead, he just nods. "Sure. I mean, as long as we actually do it at some point in the near future, I'm down for whenever. Tomorrow works fine."
"As long as you don't give us away," I mutter without realizing. Whoops. That one kinda slipped out.

"And there you two go again," Garnet sighs, packing up the supplies. "Honestly, I'm glad to see you're getting along more, but you're both so alike that I'm surprised you're not peas in a pod."
Kerkylas rolls his eyes. "Why, because we're both trans?"

"What? No. You're both passionate about your hobbies and the things you like. For Kerkylas, it's his training. Reggie, you clearly taught yourself a lot about healing. And you're stubborn as hell. You guys are more similar than you're different."

Kerkylas looks ready to argue. I don't. Garnet's words just ring out in my head. Is that true? Are Kerkylas and I really that alike? Does that mean we won't get along, or that we should get along more than we do?

Garnet offers to take the first shift tonight, Kerkylas takes the second, and I agree to take the early morning one. Cyclone's face appears over our heads in the sky. I can't believe it. A Career, already dead and gone. Yet I'm still here. I wonder what happened?

Nighttime happens and everything occurs peacefully. We wake each other up to swap shifts and by the time both of my allies are awake the next morning, I'm ready to pass out myself. Thankfully, there is no cannon rudely disrupting us again to mark a week passing in the arena. I curl up into a little ball and nod off.

Next thing I know, Kerkylas is shaking me awake and alarms are blaring.

16th place: Cy Riel, District 4. Chest hacked open by Prism.

This one I kinda feel bad about because Cy was really cool as a nonconventional Career. And this was a nonconventional arena so it should've been a slam dunk for him. Unfortunately, his nerdiness and relationship with Avonlea clashed heavily with the more brawny and "macho" Careers like Arietis, Prism, and Vivian. There was no way he wasn't a dead man walking after his head injury and thus his story ends here. LCS, thank you so much for Cy!

So...where are things gonna go from here? Just you wait and see. In the meantime, check out Fallout! It's a little Hunger Games story I'm writing, but with a twist on who the tributes are. Hopefully it keeps you entertained while I work on the next chapter. Blog will be updated soon.

See you all then,

-Vr