Liberosis - The Hunger Games

19

As much as the other three tried to convince me to, my eyes barely shut last night. They only closed after the exhaustion of compressing all my emotions caught up to me. My eyes were so heavy from holding back tears that I got to a point where I could open them.

There was Clovis' voice ringing my head again weak, weak, weak. I hated how much it got to me and I hate how true it was. But I did not want to be different, I didn't want to be a cold-blooded killer, I didn't want to be Clovis.

I was a Career tribute and yet when I pierced his stomach with my weapon it felt like I had stabbed myself. Regret bled out of my body after being bottled inside for too long. Maybe I was losing my mind.

Day six came with the greeting of the waves tickling our feet as we slept. The game makers were pushing us inland towards our certain deaths. We would have to find a new campout if we didn't want to drown in our sleep. I felt myself developing into more of a wild creature as the games progressed, blood adorned the crevices of my fingernails, the same colour red decorated my bloodshot eyes.

The boys were in no better state, Beck's hair had transitioned from defined curls to a matted heap, grains of sand decorated his hair and wetsuit, and he was becoming noticeably thinner as the days progressed. Thorn was growing ill, perhaps the increasingly cold nights were throwing him into a state of fever, his skin had become pale, teeth chattering and nose a pink colour. I woke to him coughing last night, much like the night before, I had asked him if he was ok, he told me not to worry, to go back to sleep.

I did not.

However, the biggest change came with Elsie, as if these six days in the nightmare box had forced her to grow. No longer was she an excitable child, eyes bright with wonder like a doe in the woods, a shadow had been cast in the corner of her eye and she was quiet. Not silent in the way of an innocent creature, quiet like a trap, forever on the edge of being set off.

We split the meals into portions, Elsie receiving the biggest one as usual, though she only ate half. We would have to search the traps again if we wanted food for tomorrow. Elsie rolled onto her side and collapsed into a tired daze as Thorn offered to keep watch for the first shift. I rolled onto my other side and listened to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. At home, the sound would put me straight to sleep, at home I had a greater chance of making it through the night.

At home was my family, Addison had surely collapsed into a heap of exhaustion, Asher locked herself in her room, barely eating. Mother sits alone in the kitchen, a cold mug of tea in her hand that she never bothered to drink, I can see her rolling a single pink pearl in between her fingers, the pearl Finnick found for me diving when I was nine. I gave it to my mother for her birthday, though not a grand gesture, she thanked me, placing a gentle kiss on my hairline.

I begged Father to stay strong, but I knew he would not have, he would be shelled up on the farm, nothing but the strong smell of salty water to keep him company.

And then there was Dante.

Andante sat by the television eyes pierced to the screen as to not miss a second of the action, he is rooting for me, begging me to come home, knowing all the things that I do not. Mother would have begged him to go to school, he would not have. He's commenting on all the things I've done wrong, 'You've taken your guard down, Aurora, you can't let the others make your decisions, three of you must die in the end. You need to break away from the group, go. Now!"

Finnick is saying the same thing if he is watching. He could be drunk, that is how he manages when he gets sad. Though he has been getting sadder and sadder over the years. I remember the first time, he stumbled into my house in the dead of night, perspiration glistening on his temples and the smell of wine reeking on his clothing.