The 1st Writer Games: Powers

Task #3 - Responses (Females)

.: Elizabeth 'Lizzie' Edison - District Three :.

I wake up tied to a tree.

I fell asleep on the ground, so someone has tied me into the tree. Benoit, probably. Though he's nowhere to be seen. I gulp, not used to heights, but I don't feel like I'll fall. On the other hand, I can't see how I'm going to get out. I twist around, but I can't see Benoit. The only sign of him is in a little piece of paper stuck to the tree with a knife, covered in a neat but obviously rushed scrawl. Heart sinking, I reach out for it.

"Miss Elizabeth Edison, sorry this is so rushed but I need to explain. As I write, there's a group of people - that girl from 12 and her troupe - nearby. It sounds like they might find us. So I've tied you into the tree where I don't think they'll look (pull the string with the black blob on it to get free) and I'm going to face them myself since they want some Capitol blood. If you're reading this it's gone wrong. Sorry to leave you on your own. But you'll be okay. The stuff is on the next branch. From, BA.'

Oh no. Oh no no no. I twist around, the ropes burning my wrists. There's something on the floor not far from the tree. I can see, in blood, another message, this one presumably not meant for me.

'Capitol scum! Do you like our revenje?'

I suspect that my brain has disassociated because rather than taking in the horrific insinuation, I can only notice that revenge is spelt wrong.

Then it hits me. Benoit is dead, and I think he saved my life. It's very hot, and not just because I'm petrified. The very tree that I'm hanging from burns. Something is roaring, up in the sky.

Quickly, I scramble for the rope that will untie me and tug on it. The complicated knots unravel instantly; thanks again, Benoit. 

I hit the warm floor with a bang, winded. I should have thought that might happen. The shirt that last night was frozen now sticks to me. Ew. I hate being sweaty; it doesn't happen often in 3. Watson says we're all lazy buggars, usually after he's beaten me to our spot in the outskirts of the district.

I imagine Watson watching this and smiling at me remembering him. Red for Watson, on my little bracelet. I bet he never thought I'd get this far. I never did.

Another roar interrupts my day dream. It sounds like a demented jabberjay with a bad cold.

I take up the crossbow nervously, hands shaking, and wipe the blood from my eyes. My forehead throbs around the wound. 

There's a rumbling noise from the direction of the mountain, which I don't have time to trouble myself with because a leathery shape rips through the trees, heading straight for me! 

I curl up in a ball as a smell hits me, blood and that clean Capitol stench. Something sweeps over my head, so close that I hear a hiss of movement, and I try and roll out of the way. There's a bone-chilling screech, and an explosion of heat from in front of me.

I risk opening my eyes and immediately wish I hadn't; the tree I fell from, the tree with the supplies in, is on fire! Crap. Now I really am on my own.

Another screech calls my attention into the sky, where the leathery bird things flap in a circle. One is watching me with red eyes, and I brandish the loaded crossbow at it. The last one got too close to me; I can't let it do that again. I try creeping backwards, away from the flaming trees, my heart heavy. If I survive this attack, I hope I've got sponsors. 

A ball of fire slams into one of the other birds; the girl from 12 is around somewhere. While they're distracted, I run, feeling the forest heat up around me. I wish I had a plan or something, but I'm relying completely on my instincts. And the creatures are giving chase.