Author: sitting.waiting.watching PM
Chap. 1-3 edited! Part 1 of my Hunger Games series. Anastasia just won the 396th Annual Hunger Games... But what happens now? Why can't she remember things that happened in the Arena, that's not because of the mysterious berries? What happened in the Arena that she just can't face? So many questions... Rated T because it's the Hunger Games, violence and blood, emotional traumaRated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Mystery - Other tributes - Chapters: 3 - Words: 4,984 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 08-27-12 - Published: 08-22-12 - id: 8456294
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I've re-edited this chapter… just a few things, I would recommend reading it again if you haven't already :)
I crouch on the edge of the grass. I can see the table set out, right in front of the Cornucopia. My breathing is shallow as I squint to see the objects on the table and pray that there is something good there.
The announcement was quite vague, just that there was going to be a feast at high noon and there was going to be something of vital importance for us at the Cornucopia.
I thought that was going to be a problem, considering I haven't seen the sun since the Games started. The sky has been covered in clouds, occasionally dumping water and a sticky red substance too much like blood.
It flooded some of the lower portions of the Arena, forming a ring of mud, debris, water and blood that was stagnant. The memory of it still makes me gag the smell was so horrid.
The clouds went away right after the announcement, fortunately but I struggled to see anything for about an hour after being used to the dark for so long.
I see faint smoke coming from a bowl on the table. No, I realize its steam. Good. I sprint up the hill, knife clutched firmly in my hand. When the table is only a few yards away from me, I slip on the muddy ground and flop on my stomach. I jump up and run the last yards to the table.
Spinning around to guard the food I see the grass rustling to my left. Baring my teeth and holding my knife at the ready, I think how I might be able to get rid of a few more tributes. Or get myself killed by the massive tribute from Seven.
A shape leaps from the rustling spot. I see it's a wolf mutt but I stand my ground. It leaps at me. I duck and sink the knife into its ribcage. It's still thrashing when it hits the ground but I know that it won't be getting back up.
Sticky blood coats my knife and hand. I wipe the knife off on my pants. Slowing my breathing I hear heavy footfalls and labored breathing. Someone is running up the hill to the Cornucopia. I grab another knife out of my belt and hold it ready to throw. I look to the right and left. Nothing. I back away from the table to the start of the slope of the hill. The pair from 10 charges at me from the back of the Cornucopia, one on each side.
There is a thump as the boy hits the ground, then a clang as the girl hits the Cornucopia. Two cannons sound. Two more kills for me.
I pull another knife out of my belt, spinning around. There's nobody approaching the Cornucopia and there's no movement in the grass. I stand rigid, listening and looking around for a couple more minutes.
Then, as I'm about to take the food and run, I hear howling and screams, both male and female. It dawns on me; the Gamemakers want this done now. Why else would they release the mutts that are probably herding the few that remain towards the Cornucopia? It's been at least three weeks as far as I can tell although it's probably more.
Sometime about two weeks in I ate some berries that I was sure weren't poisonous but knocked me out cold. For how long I couldn't tell, but I was grateful that I wasn't stumbled upon by another tribute. Games usually last about two weeks so this is getting pretty long. We're probably boring the Capitolites. Poor babies.
There were five tributes left before the feast but someone could have died while I was out. Since I killed the two from 10 there is at least three of us left. That includes the boy from Seven who I wounded but would like to have been able to kill.
I found him sleeping during one of the blood-rain showers and should have been able to kill him but a cannon sounded and he woke up. I was out in the open standing right next to him and he started throwing punches that were surprisingly quick and not so surprisingly very powerful. I sustained a punch to the jaw but I got a knife in his shoulder and an elbow to his head before I ran. I decided I needed an advantage because he was large and strong. I'm better at throwing knives than hand to hand. I am from Two however, and no doubt better than the upper district kids in pretty much anything fighting.
Two people came bursting through the grass- interrupting my thinking- and the mutts came shortly after. The boy from Seven was far ahead of the two mutts after him, but the other girl wasn't so lucky. The mutt leaped as she started climbing the hill and the cannon sounded shortly after.
I had two knives left, two chances to end this. It would be a fluke if I won in hand to hand to Seven. In the state I was in I could probably take two blows.
He was coming up the hill now getting closer. I ran to the left side of the Cornucopia so I could have more room to throw once he came up to the top. Aiming carefully but quickly I let my first knife fly. It bounced right off of his chest. Armor. This was about to get a lot harder. I formed a new plan. Ingenious. Clutching the knife in my teeth I climbed up the Cornucopia. I squatted once on top and saw Seven coming around the left side. He had to have seen me and wonder where I went.
"UP HERE!" I yelled.
Seven looked up and sneered. He started the climb up the side. Ha, he fell for it. I jogged over to right above where his head would be in about three seconds, if the mutts didn't tear him down first. Clutching the knife I kneeled.
It took forever but his head was level with the Cornucopia and I grabbed his hair, jerked his head up and to the side and stabbed the knife into his temple.
Boom went the cannon. I pulled my knife out and stood up panting, although I hadn't exerted myself that much. I hoped with my whole being that was the last tribute left, besides me of course.
"Congratulations to the victor of the 396nd Annual Hunger Games, Anastasia Rothfeild!"
Throwing my fist with the knife in the air, my face forms a smile and I laugh, somewhat insane. It's over!
It is then I realize how tired, dirty and wounded I am. I haven't slept in… five days maybe, constantly hunting and killing only taking brakes to eat, drink and take a caffeine pill, not closing my eyes for fear I would fall asleep. That would mean the terrible night terrors that left me shaking and sobbing. About a week ago was the first one and after the second, I gave up and started on the energy pills.
My clothes stick to me with blood and water. I don't think I've been dry these whole Games because of the impeccably timed blood rain. Once you think you're dry, it starts raining again. Oddly there was no rain gear in the Cornucopia.
My long pants and shirt didn't help much then or against the abnormally large thorn bushes I stumbled into after getting attacked by a swarm of giant bugs that stings hurt like nobody's business and made the world spin around me.
How I killed the bugs with my knives while the world shifted and tumbled around me I don't know.
So I'm covered in blood, gashes, bug bites and my face is swollen. I feel my hair sticking to my face from the heat, humidity and grease. Some of it is still caught up in the bun I tried to pull my hair up into after the stings a few days ago.
I want to go home.
Actually I just want to go somewhere other than here.
What happens when I go home?
Hope that cleared some mistakes out! If you find any, feel free to tell me about them :) Don't worry, I also take criticism very well.
Whew! That was kinda nervous making posting my first story on here! I have written a lot more but it needs a whole lot more work. I want to know what you think so REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! You have no idea how much that would mean to me. Seriously. I will scream a little whenever I get a review and go into a mad fit finding out what it says. And I love constructive criticism so bring it on! I can only get better, right? ... Right?