Author's Games Entries

Task Six: Amelia's Sweetest Night

Amelia dropped down low between the branches, her breath hot in the air. After nearly thirteen hours of searching for more blood to spill she was too tired to continue. In the middle of the forest, but closer to the western edge, she'd found a small enclave of poppy flowers. This is for me, she thought. They know I'm going to win, don't they? Her mind flashed back to that beautiful dress she'd had before. A rush of wind reminded Amelia why she'd missed it so much--going shirtless with such exposed injuries wasn't working well for her at all. Pricks of ice and heat fought viciously. Imperfections arose upon her body to deceive her mind.

As if to egg her impending victory on, a small beeping caught her ear and she reached out with her good arm to grasp the ball of metal. It unlocked easily and as she pulled it close and reached in a smirk danced across her lips. "Why, thank you," she called out. Somewhere a camera was watching and her generous sponsor could see her. "It's good to know that someone wants me clothed."

The light brown and orange shirt had several ruffles and fit tight across her breasts but loosely around her stomach and the ripped, scarred skin of her left side. She stretched herself out as she pulled it on, loving the fresh way it felt. It even smelled nice. Almost flowery, like it had been perfumed. Fancies in her mind fluttered by in long sequences of music that delighted her with long forgotten melodies.

She touched her armpits and smirked. Whatever they had sprayed on her body before the Games worked well. No hairs had sprouted and even though she should have smelled much worse it was tolerable. They know how to put on a show all right. Kudos to you, she thought.

"Dum dum dum," she sang to herself. Her feet fell heavy against the ground and she sat with her back against a tree and her mind lost in the flowers. "Dum dum dum, my aren't you so kind. I'll find you, against the smartest mind. Dum dum dum, listen to the bravest. I'll find you, waiting for my kind kiss."

Her words were followed by a yawn that stretched through the next lines she crafted. God, I'm exhausted. "Am I safe?" she muttered, another yawn breaking out. "I should go and get more food...water...there's so much to do, so much to prepare for."

Words flew against her as the breeze picked up petals and blew them against her face and neck. Strands of hair curled against her head and Amelia's body began to fall sideways into the pit of poppies. So soft.

It didn't take Amelia long to curl herself up in the fetal position and close her eyes. One poppy tickled her nose as the rest bent down to form a pillow hard enough to support her and soft enough to make her drowsy and lucid.

"I love you, Grammy," Amelia was saying. She was so, so happy. Happy in her toes, happy in her stomach, happy all the way up to her nose. She giggled just thinking about it. "Can I come over again tomorrow?"

Her grandmother was smiling. A gentle smile. A loving smile. "Sure," she was saying, then she was petting Amelia's soft red tangles. "You're getting so big."

Her voice was old and had wrinkles in the words, if that was possible. Grandmother had a way about her that made people care. How couldn't one care? Grandmother knew how to make Amelia happy. Just a word, a touch, a bit of love in a world consumed by darkness.

Amelia opened her eyes briefly and sighed. "I don't wanna dream." Wants were not needed in the Hunger Games. Wants were nothing. Soon those dreams were back, far too soon.

"Please, no! No!"

"Don't tell me no," he grunted. A scream.

"Stop! Stop! I'll do whatever you want, just stop," she was saying. She kept repeating them over and over and over. As if that could change anything. "Please...please, don't."