Author Games: Return To Seasons

Task Two: On The First Day Of Christmas - ⚛ Spring Entries ⚛

District 1 Male - HEATH HAWTHORN [5]

I didn't like how quiet it was inside the tube. The only sound was my own breathing, and that sounded way too loud. I considered talking to myself for a little while, just to pass the time, but almost immediately decided against it. What if talking used up more air than just standing here breathing? It wasn't like they had unlimited air in here and, although it was silly to think that the very mechanics of the arena could work against me, I couldn't shake the feeling that I would suffocate if I stood in the tube much longer. 

Another sound interrupted my breathing, the mechanical click of the platform beginning to move. Looking down into my holding room for as long as possible, I caught my stylist slouch and shake her head, going to pack up my things. That was the light thing I might ever see of the outside world, I reminded myself. Not the flowery fields of District One, or the city lights of Oppidium, I was stuck with my stylist losing hope in me. I would have taken just about anything else. 

A snowflake fell down, sticking to the outside of my tube, reminding me of the arena. That lone snowflake snapped me from my pouting about my stylist. There was nothing I could have done about it, so there was no point in worrying about it, I decided. I could only focus on my own survival now. Later on, once I won the Games, I would be able to get angry at my stylist for losing hope in me. She definitely wouldn't help on my Victory Tour. 

I couldn't help but suck in a breath as my tube broke the surface of the arena. It was cold. It had never been cold in One, even in the winter. The most fragile flowers always managed to survive the winters in One, I certainly wasn't accustomed to the cold. Trying to take in the arena, I looked all around. Emerald Blossom stood to me right, the girl whose name made me laugh to the left. I immediately decided I would run to the right once the Bloodbath started, the factories in the distance should be warmer than the forest beside me. 

The countdown froze though, right before I could step off my platform. Snow continued to fall, and the wind continued to blow, but the timer refused to go. The girl from Eleven stepped off her platform, maybe to test if it was just the timer that was off. Perhaps the Games has already officially started, and the Gamemakers couldn't tell why we were all standing totally still. But she blew up all the same. It didn't quite seem real that she could splatter so far, and stain so much snow red. 

The timer flickered again, as though triggered by the explosion, and then a gong sounded, the Games officially beginning. I stopped for a moment, letting someone else jump off the platform first. Once I knew it was safe, I began to run. My first footsteps was punctuated by a bolt of lightning in the air. The volunteer from Nine was already dead though, and his District Partner was going to follow suit pretty soon. I had to make myself keep the thought of their deaths out of my mind.

But then the girl whose name made me laugh got stabbed in the throat. She tried to scream but it only came out as a gurgle. She fell to the ground, her blood turning the white snow a terrible shade of crimson, like roses in their prime. But Plumpie wasn't in her prime anymore. She was dead. She said she didn't want to hurt anyone, but that didn't stop people from hurting her. And I could be dead too. 

I guess it had never quite occurred to me that I might never go back to District One again. Erica might be an only child. For some reason, that thought was what made me stop in my tracks. That thought was responsible for the big metal plate falling on me, and knocking me to the ground. I lay there for a few moments, struggling under its weight. I hurt, which I figured was a good sign. When Daisy fell off the top of the Justice Building, and broke her back, she said she wasn't hurting at all. But then she couldn't move her legs or anything, so she cried a lot. I wiggled my toes, just for reassurance that I still could.