Author Games: Return To Seasons

Task Five: The Embers That Lost Their Spark - ☀ Summer Entries ☀

District 5 Female - MARISOL MAE VERA

"I killed my best friend that day," Venecia Lord answered. Although her face was blank, I could tell that talking about the 63rd Hunger Games was a hard subject for her. "At the Bloodbath. That's when I killed him. I didn't mean to, I just got scared and stabbed a dagg-" She broke down into tears, not finishing her sentence. I didn't know what to do. We were in the woods, where she felt safest. She had spent a large piece of her childhood in these very woods.

"Okay, Venecia. You don't have to talk about that." I whispered, putting my arm around her shoulder. I felt bad, she was so sensitive. "How about you tell me about living in District 6?" She nodded.

"I guess." She wiped her tears off her face and started to tell her story. "My parents were simply honey makers. We didn't have much, but it was a great childhood..." I stared at her while she spoke. She didn't look like a victor. She was short and weak, smaller than me. Her body looked like she could shatter in millions of pieces at any second now. Her face was wrinkly and scars were scattered her and there on her body. Her black hair was tied in a messy ponytail, but she left enough hair out so her face would be covered. I couldn't believe she was talking to me. Venecia was one of the most reserved people I had ever met.

As she told me about her childhood trauma, happiness, and success, we walked down some paths. By the time she was done, a smile was on her face.

"So, I, um," I was reluctant to ask her this, but I wanted to know more about the games. "Would you like to talk about the games?" The smile was immediately wiped off her face. "Never mind. But do you have any advice for me? What I should do?"

"All I know, is that the Capitol is out to get the rebels. You've angered them and you MUST be careful. Please, I have faith in you."

"Thank you." I was grateful for her.

"One last thing about the games, know who your enemies are. The people who saved you may be the people who kill you. Don't make the mistake that almost cost me my life." Then, she left, headed back to District 6. Instead of following her, I stood in confusion. Rudy saved me. Would he kill me, too?

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District 6 Male - JESTER 'JEZ' BLUME

A few days ago I was transferred from my cell to this room. Now I’m bored of it. At ten paces by ten paces it’s bigger than my room back in Six, another lifetime ago. That room is full of interesting things: models made out of spare candlewax; a kaleidoscopic array of blankets with patches darned over them; hooks embedded deep into the walls, my three sets of clothes hanging there; Granda’s old walking cane propped up by the door. The walls tilt in a little because my house was made by my Ma’s parents when they were young and sprightly and now it needs work done, except nobody knows how to do it.

But thinking about it makes me feel physically sick now, so I focus on the room I’m in.

It’s a proper room, though the bed is the same as the bed in my cell and it still has no windows. The light is softer, more like the sunset, and the walls are a gentle cream rather than grey. There’s a wardrobe. When I touch the right panel the doors sweep aside and reveal a rail stuffed full of clothes, all of which look and smell brand new. I never had a choice of clothes before. I get them all out and hold them up against my body, checking the effect in the mirror. Eventually I settle for a pair of soft navy trousers and a light blue shirt with curling patterns picked out in silver embroidery.

There’s probably a camera watching me, but they’ll have seen everything already so I don’t care as I fling off the nightclothes and slide into the new ones. The sleeves need rolling up. Apart from that they fit perfectly. Now fully dressed, I admire myself in the mirror. The face that grins back at me isn’t quite my own. Some of the plumpness has drained away from my arms and cheeks. My hair is too long. The eyes are too vague and, when I lean in to see why, the pupils are ragged around the edges.