BELOW IS ANOTHER PARAGRAPH OF MY BABBLE THAT YOU HAVE PERMISSION TO SKIP (I'D PREFER IF YOU READ IT THOUGH). SUZANNE COLLINS DOESN'T DO THESE. BUT WE'RE NOT THE AMAZING CREATOR OF THE HUNGER GAMES. WHICH MEANS WE DON'T OWN IT. CONSIDER THIS OUR DISCLAIMER. A POINTLESSLY LONG ONE, BUT A DISCLAIMER NONETHELESS!
Have we ever told you how awesome and patient you guys are? We just love the fact that you guys are willing to wait ages for our chapters and not kill us :) Again, we're in the heads of Cato and Thresh. Should be label the POVs, or can you tell between the two?
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APRIL and DONNA, your MOCKINGJAYZZ!
Chapter Eight: Finished
I wake up more rested than I've ever been in the arena.
As I open my eyes, I realise it was the sound of a canon that woke me up. Signifying another life lost, but also one less tribute left to kill. No, I'm not a career. I don't get excited by killing innocent children. But twenty-three people have to die in these games, and I can't let myself feel emotion every time that happens.
Despite this, I find myself worrying about the star-crossed lovers who had the misfortune of ending up here together. Hoping that the canon wasn't either of their's. This is a weakness, I realise. It would be much better for me if they were dead. Then I wouldn't have their blood on my hands.
Still, I can't help but think about what I heard at the cornucopia. The girl had become allies with Rue, and cared about her quite a lot. I frown slightly. Rue, just a twelve year old, is dead. I remember that back in district eleven, she was well respected, especially for a child. Every day, without fail, she would be the one to whistle a tune, which would be echoed throughout the fields by the mockingjays, signalling for us to finish up.
I think about her parents and her many siblings, wondering how much they cried watching her die. Just a small girl with a family that she won't be returning to.
Again, my mind wanders back to the district twelve girl. And I find myself remembering something that I hadn't noticed before. At the cornucopia, I was about to go and save her from death. If the redhead hadn't shown up, it would have been me killing that career and saving the girl. I realise that if I were to lose, she is the one I want to win.
This causes me to shiver. The district twelve girl is a weakness for me. I feel like I owe her for Rue. She has to die for me to win, and I doubt that I can be the one to kill her. Sitting up, I shake my head – I can't think about this anymore.
Right when I sit up, the anthem plays, showing today's death. It's the redhead. Again, I feel happy for the lovers, no matter how much I try not to. This is why I don't have allies.
Sighing, I get out of my sleeping bag, roll it up and put it back into my backpack. I go through Cato's bag and have a look at his armour. I figure I might as well use it. I remove my shirt and put some armour over my chest, protecting my whole torso. I place my shirt back on and start moving.
"How big is this patch?" I whine, kicking at the ground.
It's nearing dawn and I'm still walking. Of course, I haven't been in blue for the whole two hours – the cold is unbearable! It took me about fifteen minutes to find the boundary between this patch and a red one, which luckily was a hot one. Since then, I've been alternating between the two patches, swapping each time the weather got too bad.
I realise that I've been walking for almost three hours, and there's still no sign of Thresh. How long will it take me to find this guy? I have no idea whether he's moving or in one spot. He could be in some faraway patch for all I know, or maybe on the other side of the arena. Maybe I could sleep for a few hours…
"No! I'm going to hunt that thing down and kill him. I don't need sleep! Where would I sleep anyway?"
I realise that again, I've yelled out loud. This causes me to laugh. I must look crazy to all the viewers. Maybe I am crazy. I start to run wildly through the grass…
An hour later…
There he is: Thresh. A long way away, but he's there. With his back facing me, he is walking through the grass, deeper and deeper into this never-ending blue. Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I start a sprint towards him. My hand reaches up to my jacket, pulling out a knife. My eyes are glued onto the bag he holds, the one with the "2" on it. Seeing that it's full, I grin. So he hasn't used anything from my bag.
Finally, I slow down to a silent walk, even though my body is aching to jump right onto him. No, a simple attack won't do. I've got to make this worth the cameras.
"Thresh," I say in a mocking voice, just a few metres behind him. "I think I'm going to need my bag…"
I hear his voice and quickly turn around – a natural instinct.
I find that I'm facing Cato, about 10 metres away with a knife in his hand. Well, this is unexpected. Yes I've been caught by surprise. Yes, I'm weaponless. But I'm not afraid. I know that I'm capable of killing with my hands.
After his opening line, it's clear that he's putting on a show. I'd rather just kill him and get it over with, but I particularly dislike this tribute. Deciding to play his game, I also go for the smart-talk.
"So, you finally found me," I smile. "It did take you long enough. For a while there, I was worried you wouldn't show up. I see you've come back for your bag. Too bad you're not getting it!'
Tired of the game, I start running towards Cato, and the fear is clear in his eyes. He starts slashing his knife aimlessly in the air. I dodge it with ease. I reach him, wrapping my hands around his throat and strengthening the grip. His hands start clawing the air and he drops his knife. Pretty soon, he'll be gone.
Unexpectedly, his hand starts moving toward his jacket, and he draws a knife out, attacking my leg so fast that there's no time to avoid it. With his knife embedded deep into my leg, my hands automatically let go of his throat. I groan loudly and back away from him.
Anger is now written all over his face. He throws his knife directly aiming at my chest. In that split second, my heart skips a bit – I know I'm going to die. But the knife hits my chest and bounces right off, thanks to the armour that I had forgotten I was wearing.
"What the hell?" He roars loudly. I can clearly see rage in him now - it's time to fight for my life.
Armour. My armour. Show's over, this guy is dead.
Gritting my teeth, I charge towards him. Thresh quickly moves to the left, but I'm right on his heels. I tackle him and his head hits the ground with a loud thump. Surprisingly, he's still conscious – Damn!
I start stabbing at his chest, but this armour is impossible to get through. Frantically, I look for something I can puncture. I see a patch of bare skin and excitedly lift my knife, but just before it pierces his stomach, he pushes me, causing the knife to dig deep into his lower arm.
Thresh moves his other hand to the knife wound, attempting to pull it out. But his injuries are slowing him down, and I'm quickly able to push deeper into his arm. I'm feeling particularly cruel today and I want to inflict as much pain as possible before I finish him.
Just as I'm reaching for another knife, a canon booms through the arena, taking me by surprise. Thresh is dead. Wait, what? That was unexpected. I quickly get up, confused, and stare at his body.
Looking over my latest kill, I try to decide which blow was the fatal one. His leg is still gushing out blood, so that must it. I reach over to retrieve my knife from his arm and notice that there's a bruise around the wound that I've made. Did my knife infect him?
Before I can ponder over this, I hear a hovercraft coming towards us. Isn't it meant to wait until I've left? I look up, but it's still coming over, speeding up. I stand up in a panic, grab the two bags he was carrying and move away. Looking back, I can see I was just in time, because they've already got the guy halfway up. Too tired to think about it, I continue walking.
A few metres away, I realise just how cold I am. I open my bag and put on a full set of armour, hoping it will warm me up. This doesn't work, so I try Thresh's bag. I find a sleeping bag. This should help. I unroll it and climb in, deciding I have time to sleep. Oh wow, this is warm. It definitely isn't a normal sleeping bag, and I realise just how much Thresh needed it and why he came to the feast. To his death. Ha!
Now it's just me, Lover Boy and District Twelve left. This should be a piece of cake.
That's it! Review! And don't forget to send those questions! Next chapter, we'll be back to Katniss and her Peeta dilemma. And then other things will happen, obviously, because it's the Hunger Games.