Persi Caraway- District Eleven female (15)
It was like weaving a basket. I smiled at a faraway memory so very different from what I was doing now. One by one, I'd taught all of my brothers and sisters how to make daisy crowns. It wasn't as simple as just tying the stems together end to end. There was a method you had to use. You had to braid them and weave them just so, so that the weight of each reinforced the others and they came together in a tight group. Weights and counterweights, arcs and angles, all working to one purpose.
The grass I wove was thick and flexible. At my normal size it would have broken like nothing if I tugged it. Here it was as thick as a sapling and tough enough to spring upwards and whap into me like I'd stepped on a rake. Over and over I took a thick stalk and bent it down. I held it underfoot while I wove the grass around it to hold it into place. I covered it with some loose grass blades so it looked like nothing but some dead vegetation. Just one broken link can make a daisy crown fall apart in your hands. Just one torn blade of the thin grass I was weaving was enough for the thick stalks to break free and snap forward like a released arrow.
It was a bad way to kill someone. It was bad in that it was sneaky and indirect. I hardly valued that, though. Wasn't it sneaky and unfair that everyone else here was so much bigger than me? It was also bad in that it was a long, hard way to die. The stalks of plant grass were studded with sharpened twigs I'd rammed through the stalks. At first I tried to use needle barbs for extra poison damage, but they weren't strong enough to penetrate the woody grass. The barb I held had broken in my hand, splashing juice onto me that was still stinging my palm and fingers. I'd just have to hope the unpoisoned but sharp twigs would be enough to kill. As much as I was willing to do what I had to do, I didn't want to have to walk up to a pinned, bleeding Tribute and finish the job. I knew it wouldn't bother me but I knew it should bother me. It bothered me that it didn't.
There really wasn't any other way out. Clearly I wasn't going to get any sponsors. We hadn't even gotten sponsors when our alliance was still active. Clover was a strategist and Enzo was spectacular. They were the kind to get sponsors. Me, I was just a tiny, unimpressive District traitor. I couldn't expect help from my family. I didn't even know if they were eating without me. I learned my forehead against the stalk I was studding with spikes. If I didn't come home, eventually they would have to eat the money for our next stock purchase. Then the store would be gone and there would be nothing but the streets. If I didn't get through this, all the humanity I'd cut away from myself would be for nothing. No family, no life, nothing but hatred for my legacy. I could see no way but to double down and show no mercy.
I looked at the traps I'd laid. There were four of them already and I saw no need to stop. I'd gotten the idea from Clover, though not directly. All his talk about guerrilla warfare brought to mind the one thing I remembered about it from history class. Long ago,
long before Panem, another rebel group had attacked its peaceful government. No one won that tropical war, but those who lost it most were those who found the booby traps seeding the ground. I didn't have the strength to line a tunnel with spikes, but a spike catapulted on a bent sapling would this through flesh and stick into bone just the same. I tried to concentrate the spikes heavily near head level. I wanted to kill, not to torture. I didn't think about the results or the pain as I worked. There was my goal and there were those standing in the way of it. I wanted them gone.
Amberlynn Hyde- District Nine female (15)
I felt a little bad that Trayne and I sometimes did things without Trydan. We invited him every time. Plenty of times he did come. The seemingly high number of times he didn't was probably a simple matter of me and Trayne wanting to do really stupid things Trydan was too smart to do. He came with us when we were picking peas or excavating an onion or things like that. He just didn't come along when we were trying to see if we could climb to the top of the wrought iron trellis (we could not) or when we had the rock-throwing contest (Trayne won) or when we threw dirt clods at each other because we felt like it.
Trydan was coming this time. He was just lagging behind. Whole Trayne and I ran ahead in our food-gathering venture, Trydan had wanted to finish tidying up our house. Mostly that meant sweeping with a bundle of grass and beating a shirt in the air to get some of the stuffy air out. It took all of five minutes, which was good, since it meant he'd be close in case someone tried to attack. He'd never even be out of sight if we just looked back.
"I wish they'd planted more kinds of vegetables," Trayne said as we climbed a pea plant to get to the higher pods, since we'd already picked most of the low ones.
"What's that one?" I said, pointing through the leaves to a big thick bush leaning against the far end of the garden.
"I dunno," Trayne shrugged. "I didn't see anything on it so I thought it was a weed."
"No, there's something there." I craned my neck and looked harder at the but of color that had been hidden by leaves until we got this higher vantage point. "See?"
Trayne climbed over next to me. "Oh, yeah, there it is."
"I think it's a tomato," I said. It was bright red and didn't have bumps like a strawberry.
"Let's go check it out." Trayne swung down from the branch we were on with his arms and recklessly climb/tumbled to the ground. I followed a little more slowly. Even a tiny broken bone would be bad news here.
Trayne was faster than me but I reached the tomato plant first, since he paused a few times to make sure we weren't too far from Trydan, who poked his head out of the door just as I was reaching the plant. I bent aside some scratchy leaves- I hadn't known tomato leaves were so rough- and found one single little tomato. It was still big to me, of course, but with its relative size, it must have been a cherry tomato, and small even by that standard. It was roughly the size and weight of a few-months-old baby. I yanked it free, feeling a little weirdly guilty since it felt like yanking a baby after I had that thought. It tore a little where the fruit met the stem, leaking a little sticky juice onto me.
Trydan was trotting up behind Trayne as I ducked under the tomato leaves back into the open. "You find something?" he asked.
"Yeah, a tomato!" Trayne said.
I held it out to Trydan as he reached for it. "Check it out!" I said. I squeezed it. A little spurt of bright red juice shot out.
In an instant it wasn't Trydan anymore. His face went feral and he lunged at me.
Trayne Treadwell-Lang- District Six male (17)
Trydan lunged at Amberlynn, his teeth bared. He knocked her to the ground and knelt on her chest, both hands squeezing her throat. She hadn't even had time to scream. Her eyes were freakishly wide as she clawed at his hands, sputtering and twisting. I knew what was happening but I had no idea how you were supposed to stop it. I just knew I had to before he killed Amberlynn right in front of me.
"Trydan! Snap out of it!" I yelled as I dropped down by both of them. First I tried pulling his hands free, but it was like trying to stop a gorilla. Amberlynn had switched to twisting at his fingers. He would loosen for an instant when the twist was too sharp, but he was latching back on again so quickly she was getting only slivers of breath. Worse, if he couldn't kill her this way, he'd quickly switch to something else. I redoubled my efforts at the thought of his thumbs sinking into her eyes.
"Trydan, get off her!"
It wasn't working. I had to do it. I hauled back and punched his across the jaw. He didn't even flinch.
"Get off her!"
Amberlynn's eyes were going red with the pressure of the blood pooling in her head. Her movements were more frantic and less coordinated as her brain lost oxygen. It didn't take long, I knew. It took a long time to die, but a very short time to do damage.
I locked an arm around Trydan's neck with the crook of my elbow against his throat. I dug in my heels and hauled backward. Trydan surged against me, looking for all the world like a zombie- blank face, open mouth, mindlessly driven toward flesh. He started to hurt as I pulled harder. It was the dry cough a dog made when it was forced backwards by the collar.
At last Trydan lifted an arm to try to free himself. His remaining hand around Amberlynn's throat popped free and he fell onto me when I fell back at the sudden loss of balancing force. I raised my hands to protect my own throat, but Trydan rolled off me to the side and crouched on his knees and one hand, the other tugging at his own throat. He was taking in short stuttered breaths like hiccups. His face was still empty but he was paying no attention to me or Amberlynn. Drool ran down the corners of his mouth and left drops of dampness in the dirt. His chest was heaving as he faced the ground like he was praying.
Amberlynn flopped forward onto her hands and raised into a crooked sitting position. "Is he okay?" she asked. Her voice was scratchy.
"It's like he can't breathe," I said. Something was very wrong and I didn't think that was it. He put out a hand into the air in front of him, pawing for something that wasn't there. He turned his face in my direction, still not really looking at me, and I saw his mouth was crookedly floppy and one eye was drooping. His throat worked and then saliva dribbled out again.
"I think you crushed his throat."
My head snapped sideways at Amberlynn's words. "This is MY fault?" I demanded. Amberlynn quailed at the anger in my voice. "Why did you have to squeeze the tomato? He thought it was blood. Look what you did."
Amberlynn was crying. Let her cry. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. She looked again at Trydan, who was sinking to one side. "I'm sorry," she said again.
"Get out!" I screamed. Amberlynn got to her feet, swaying a little, and ran to the grass at the edge of the garden.
I crawled to Trydan's side. A deep-red bruise was spreading on his neck farther than I'd ever seen a bruise go. I should have been scared to get close to him, but I wasn't going to leave him alone. I'd known Trydan only a few weeks. We would never know what might have been possible, far less what ever might have happened. We might not even have stayed friends if we'd met back home. This would be at best a brief chapter in my memories and far more likely my last sadness before I died, too. I didn't need to be afraid though. Trydan's face wasn't blank anymore. Confusion, pain and fear were seeping in.
Trydan Briod- District Five male (17)
Cactus was bleeding. If he was bleeding then he wasn't dead yet. I took his throat in my hands. If the blood wasn't killing him then I would crush the air from his body. Then I wouldn't have to put my teeth in him again.
He was so strong. He tore at my fingers and arms. My head throbbed with a blow I hadn't ever seen coming. I refused to let go. I wouldn't let Cactus hurt me or Trayne or Amberlynn. He was so strong. I had to be sure.
Cactus choked me from behind. I didn't understand how he was so impossibly strong. How was he behind me when I could see him beneath me? But he was straining backwards on my throat. I thought his arm would pass clean through my neck. I was holding on with all my strength, but he tore me loose. As I fell and his arm slid off me, I felt something give in my throat.
Something was pressing inside my throat. I could breathe around it but I could feel it heavy and tugging in my throat. But where was Cactus? I needed to finish killing him. My head was pounding like there were nails behind my eyes. The world swayed in a way that made me sick.
"Trydan!"
Trayne was kneeling over me. He must have chased Cactus away. But no, that wasn't it. The truth washed over me all at once. I tried to speak, but nothing came out.
"It's okay," Trayne said. His tears were falling ontoy face. "I'm sorry. I know you didn't mean it."
My neck ached as I turned my head to look for Amberlynn. I couldn't see her. I couldn't tell her I was sorry.
"Just try to keep breathing, okay?" Trayne said. I couldn't tell him that wasn't the problem. I could breathe, though it hurt. It was the pain in my head and the way the world was swimming out of reality. I couldn't tell him any of that. There were so many things I couldn't tell him.
10th place: Trydan Briod- carotid dissection
And here we see the reason choke holds are the only thing Marines are forbidden to practice on their own for martial arts certification. Blood vessels are pretty fragile. PTSD is sometimes overlooked in SYOTs. Tributes are usually scared and upset, but I went into it more this time and several of them are actively having flashbacks. None of this was Trydan's fault. He was just a boy who'd been through things he never should have had to. And eight more are coming.
