Hi, everyone! I know it's been a while since my last update. At the moment, I'm working on my final dissertation for university, that's why I've decided to take a break from fanfiction. Don't worry, I'm not going to delete my stories, so stay tuned, please. I'm going to update them when possible. Thank you for your support :)
And now, let's move to chapter 35, which describes the reactions to Autumn's death. Enjoy your reading :)
Second day in the arena
Penelope "Penny" Peachskin (16)- Autumn's sister
I'm comfortably seated on the sofa, at home, but I don't feel at ease. My mouth is dry. A pillow lies on my lap, and I'm nervously playing with the memory foam of which it is made, stretching out my fingers on it and then relaxing them... stretch, relax, stretch, relax... I'm following a certain rhythm... that's one way to keep my mind active, otherwise I would just stare off into space, unable to produce any thought. At some point, my attention is drawn by the television screen in front of me. The writing "HG Channel" flashes on the black screen, and you can hear a short opening jingle. My father emerges from the kitchen with his limping gait, and he eventually sits next to me. Two grinning Capitolites appear on the screen: Cinnamon Nicewarble and Mircalla Blutdurst, those who comment on the Hunger Games. Normally, I would ignore their fake cheerfulness, but this year... this year, my sister is a tribute; if something bad happened to her, what would they say? They're likely to make silly comments, as if they were commenting on the weather. In the end, tributes are treated as numbers; their lives don't matter. Capitolites love them, but just because they look forward to seeing them die in the arena. How can they live with themselves?
My father puts his hand on mine. "Don't worry, Autumn is strong. She survived the first day in the arena, she can win," he says.
I look at him. A reassuring smile crosses his face. I nod in response.
"Soooo… the sun has risen again on our bushy arena," says Cinnamon on TV. "As always, Mircalla and I are here to comment on the tributes' adventures."
"… hoping that the second day in the arena will be more eventful than the first night, I'd add."
"We all hope that, of course."
I'm too worried about my sister to consider how cold and merciless Capitolites can be. When they eventually show the arena, my temples start pulsing in unrest. I find myself tapping my fingernails on the pillow.
It should be me… I should be there… If only Autumn hadn't volunteered…
They show the cornucopia, which stands on a hilltop, but I cannot see any tribute. The Careers must be inside the cornucopia, or they went hunting somewhere else. But here's an aerial view, and now you can see that some tributes are hidden among the purplish shrubberies. I cannot recognize them, though. Is it a sort of ambush or what? Whom are they waiting for?
"Oh, looks like there's movement near the cornucopia!" says Cinnamon.
"Finally!" replies Mircalla, clasping her hands. "Can you see who those tributes are?"
"They're the Careers, I suppose… they seem to be hiding… oh, now I see what they're doing!"
Now, I can see it as well. One tribute is trying to reach the cornucopia by crawling among the shrubberies. They came from the hills that extend behind the cornucopia. Obviously, they don't want to be seen, but, unfortunately, they have been seen, for there are other two tributes hidden there, and the latter are moving in a circle in order to sneak up on the former. That's an ambush! A close shot enables me to see that the two tributes are the couple of District 2. I freeze. The image of the girl from Two killing two tributes with her bare hands has been stuck in my head. I cannot see who the other tribute is, but I have a bad feeling. After all, they came from the direction where Autumn fled yesterday, so it could be her, right?
Please, not Autumn…
Suddenly, the tribute who's alone stands up. My heart sinks. My worst fears have just come true: it's Autumn! She leans on the tree that partially shades the ring of plates all around the golden cornucopia.
"Autumn, run! It's a trap!" I cry, but my sister cannot hear me, of course.
With terror, I watch the boy of District 2 draw his sword. With the hilt of the blade, he hits the back of Autumn's neck, making her lose her senses. Then, he drags her body to the other side of the tree by holding her by her feet. How brute! She's not a sack of potatoes!
"Why don't you kill her?" asks his district partner.
"Not yet," he replies with a smirk.
"What are you up to, Victor? Kill her and that's it!"
"Oh, no, victors' children deserve a special treatment, don't you think?"
What does he mean by special treatment? What is he going to do to my sister? The worst possible scenarios are now coming to my mind. If Autumn is doomed to die in the arena, I'd like her to die as quickly as possible. I don't want her to suffer!
In the meantime, the boy has entered the cornucopia, and he's now coming back with a rope and a matchbox in hand. What does he want to do? What kind of torture is this monster going to inflict on my poor sister? And I can't do anything but stay here, watching the last act of the tragedy with tears in my eyes. I desperately hug my father, trying to find some comfort, but it feels like hugging a statue made of ice. He's staring at the screen, unable to move. I cannot blame him; the spectacle that they're now showing on TV is more awful than any nightmare I've ever had in my life. The boy of District 2 binds Autumn to the tree. He takes her black boots off. He lights some matches and places them between her toes. But what…?
"She'll believe her feet are on fire... guess it's an effective alarm clock," says the boy, while lighting another match and watching the flame with an evil grin.
Indeed, Autumn regains consciousness in no time. She's clearly shaken. She tries to move... to run away, I suppose... but her limbs are fast bounded.
"Oh, here you are, sleeping beauty!" he shouts, satisfied.
My sister looks up at him. "Why am I still alive?" she asks, clearly scared.
Probably, she has just realized that she fell into a deadly trap.
In response, the boy gets closer to her. Then, he squats. "What's the hurry?" he replies with a smirk.
What's the hurry!?
Autumn spits in his face. "Coward! You want to kill me now that I cannot defend myself! Is this the great prowess of Careers?"
She's showing courage, there's no doubt about that, and I cannot help but feel proud. Courage is, however, useless in this case; it won't save her life. I cannot watch the TV anymore, so I close my eyes. At some point, I hear my sister scream in pain. I hug my father tight. I don't run away, I'm going to stay here… crying… for my sister.
"Stop it!" I hear her shout.
I open my eyes. The boy of District 2 is torturing her with a knife. Another tribute is joining the group. A close shot helps me to recognize them: it's the boy of District 1, Kyle Whiteswan, the other victors' child. He came out of the cornucopia with a bow in hand and a quiver full of arrows on his back. What does he want to do? He helped Autumn during the bloodbath, so maybe… my hope is kindled again, but it lasts little. The boy nocks an arrow, aiming at my sister. Now, he looks like an executioner… a wonderful, lethal, violet-eyed executioner. Eventually, he lets his arrow fly, and it hits my sister's heart. Immediately, blood starts flowing from the wound, smearing her clothes. Autumn doesn't move, she seems resigned… serene almost. A faint smile forms on her lips, and then she passes away. A cannon fires. I can already feel that sense of loss, emptiness, and bewilderment that precedes mourning, intensified by a bitter truth: the awareness that it should have been me.
…...
Delphie Coney (26)- Sponsor
I can hardly supress a smirk as soon as Autumn Peachskin's cannon fires... but hell! I'm not supposed to hide my feelings! Not that I'd let someone tell me what to do, anyway. I drink the last sip of my peach schnapps shot, enjoying its sweetness accompanied by the liquor's warmth. Ordering another shot is tempting, but I can find better sources of pleasure in this room. At the moment, both sponsors and mentors seem to be focusing on the huge TV screen at the bottom of the room, commenting on what's happening in the arena in low, subdued voices. The death of Autumn Peachskin has certainly turned the tables, since she was one of the favourites. I used to think the same myself, but, after my last conversation with her stupid mentor, I changed my mind, and I made sure she would receive no help. She didn't do anything to deserve my hatred, but her mentor did, and, you know, tributes cannot survive without help. Autumn was a victor's child, and now that she's dead, people will probably focus on the other victor's child of this year, namely Kyle Whiteswan from District 1... but not I. Supporting Careers is what the majority of sponsors want to do, but that means that all of them are dispensable. After all, if a Career mentor cannot reach an agreement with a sponsor, they can count on a flock of other idiots willing to support their tributes. No, I don't want to be dispensable! I'm going to support tributes who have a potential and cannot do without me! And I'm going to rejoice in the helpless faces of their mentors, when the help they need is denied due to the latter's hubris! After all, they're here to ask for help, so they should show some humility.
I stand up and walk away from the lounge bar. I know where to head… right to Gemini Webb, the mentor of District 8, who's sitting alone on a sofa. He's watching the screen, but I'm pretty sure he can see me come from his left. He keeps a stiff upper lip, though. All for show, I'm sure. Gemini Webb is too full of himself to accept the fact that he's a complete failure as a mentor. His arrogance serves only to hide this.
"You're here to insult me, I suppose," he says, without looking at me.
In response, I sit down beside him. "Insult is a strong word… what about criticize?" I reply.
"It's Autumn who made a mistake, not I. You want to blame me just because you've got nothing else to do… your life is so void, that's the only pleasure you can get… I almost pity you… almost."
"Being arrogant just to hide your frustration... do you really think this strategy works?"
"Frustration? Just because one of my tributes died? Not really. I didn't even count on her victory," he says, and then he takes a sip of his drink.
Liar!
"Honestly, she was a pain in the neck! You know, a spoiled girl... the kind of person who thinks that they're important just because their family is rich and famous... have you ever met such a person?" he adds, looking at me with a slight smirk.
I know that was a jab directed at my chin, and I'd like so badly to punch him, but I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me angry. If I lost control right now, it would prove that he has power over me. No, this won't happen! I cannot let it happen! I'm the one who shall emerge victorious!
"You have always preferred little, harmless Tartan, then. Not a great bet, but guess you're still too inexperienced and emotional to realize that your tributes don't stand a chance. It's not entirely your fault... I mean, District 8 has decent tributes once in a blue moon..."
"Blah, blah, blah... go straight to the point, please," he says, interrupting me.
In response, I get closer to his face. "Listen to me, Gemini. I'm still willing to help you despite your bad attitude, because I'm a good sponsor; and as such, it's my duty to warn you that Tartan won't survive without help. Autumn was a better tribute, and, please, don't pretend you didn't want her to win! Of course, you did! But she's dead,"- I press my forefinger on his chest- "and it's your fault, Gemini. Do you know why? Just because you were so arrogant to reject my help! Autumn needed it. Her death is on your head."
"Maybe... if only I had a conscience," he replies, rather amused.
"I'll give you an ultimatum: apologize, and Tartan will receive all the help he needs."
"There are other sponsors I can ask for help," he points out.
"Oh, really? I know you tried to find someone to replace me, but you failed, didn't you?"
He doesn't say anything in response, so I go on: "Yes, Gemini, nothing happens here without me knowing it! Yes, this spoiled girl is important!"
"Good for you," he replies with a forced smile.
"Now, apologize. I won't ask you to do it on your knees... you'd deserve it, but I'm not that cruel. You should thank me."
Gemini gets even closer. "Delphie, Delphie, Delphie... you know what? Go to hell... that would be great... and helpful too."
Oh, that's too much!
I stand up out of a sudden, beside myself. "Tartan is already dead!" I shout, then I storm out of the room while Gemini begins to laugh.
So, this chapter was mainly focused on Autumn, but also her district partner was named. Tartan Dye is the only tribute in the arena of whom we don't know anything yet. Of course, I'll write also about him. Where do you think he ended up? What has he done after the bloodbath? Please, try to make assumptions in your reviews! You can find a general description of the arena at the end of chapter 34.
Since I haven't updated my stories for a while, I've decided to involve readers even more by posting a poll on my bio. Please, have a look at it.
Submitters cannot assign points in this chapter.
Thank you for reading and reviewing :)
