The 1st Writer Games: Powers

Task #1 Responses - (Females)

TASK #1 RESPONSES (FEMALE)

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.: Tiamera Ellen - District One :.

My heart felt as if it was going to pop out of my chest. My hands were sweating like crazy. Five more seconds. Five.......Four....... Three...... Two...... One. I ran towards the cornucopia. I went to snatch a backpack and a sword. It was a blood bath as usual. I tripped over something and hit the floor hard. Damn it! 

All I could think is,"Get up! You can't die this quickly! Get up!" 

I forced myself to get up. I finally got to the supplies. I grabbed what i wanted and darted out. Thank god I was in shape. I rapidly went towards the forest with the fluorescent orange bark. I didn't care where I went as long as I didn't die now. I knew each area would have a twist of its own. I ran and ran and ran. I stopped and looked around. No one in sight. I sighed and took deep breaths. I propped myself up against a tree and looked at what I snagged. Inside the backpack was a water bottle, a small pack of food, a purifier, rope, a dagger, and a blanket. I guess I had enough. My breathing began to slow, I had an immense headache. Maybe from hitting the floor. I let myself drift off to sleep.

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.: Calsa Illans - District Two :.

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

Even the sky looks fake.

Everything is too brightly coloured and in the minute before I plunge into the bloodbath, I can’t decide where to go. The forest just looks toxic. The mountain looks unfriendly, but more welcoming than the muddy crater. There’s nowhere to hide there; nowhere on the beach either. So those two are out. I’ll need to hide; I don’t have the energy to be constantly protecting myself.

All this, of course, depends on whether I survive the next five minutes.

Again, I know I have to go into the bloodbath. My beloved home District 3 hasn’t taught me how to fend for myself, so I’m going to have to take my chances if I’m going to get supplies. Maybe the confusion will work in my favour. And if not, I’ll hope for a quick death.

The floor twists and turns like snakes; it’s a good job I’m not scared of them. And perhaps it’s a reward for my training score, or just plain luck, but one of the items bobbing around near me is a crossbow, metallic and gleaming, and a sling of quarrels. It’s not so near that it’s nearly risk-free, but close enough to be more than tempting.

I fix my gaze on it and don’t look away, trying to focus. But it’s so hard with the huge climates, the other tributes, the noise of waves and wind, and, of course, the threat of imminent death.

Don’t think about that, Lizzie. Think about getting back to Watson and the family.

There’s a long way to go before that yet.

Go!

Almost before I know it, I’ve stumbled over the writhing vines, as blue as the sky, and have my hands around the sleek body of the crossbow. Other tributes race on ahead, tripping and falling on the vines. Nobody is attacking me yet; through the wobbling effect made by standing on the constantly moving floor I can see that everyone is still running towards the Cornucopia, or away from it. The boy from 10 is almost directly in front of me; I’ll be right in his path if he comes back.