A Story Of Nightlock.

Part 10 - The Feast

Part 10 - The Feast.

It's two days after Rue's death. I still haven't told Thresh that were responsible, and I don't think I ever will, to be honest. I couldn't hurt him like that. It would break him.

I'm in desperate need for water. I know that if I keep drinking from the pond I'll get sick. The water is dirty and unsanitary. The only problem is, I don't know where to find any more water other than the mutt infested lake. My tongue is very dry, and it feels like it's being grated when I do anything. It didn't help that the studs from the duck muttation penetrated my cheek, which we luckily took out.

The studs where very deep in my flesh, and Thresh had recieved a parachute containing tweezers, which he used to take them out. I can't really remember much of that night, I passed out from the pain. Fortunately, when I awoke, Thresh had used the remaining medicine from my parachute to heal the wounds on my face.

Thresh has gone out hunting. He's taken the knife with him, the one that I recieved from the Careers supplies before it blew up.

I sit outside in the field, sucking on a piece of wheat. I had a 'bath' earlier on, so I feel quite good. Food has been under control for the past few days, especially with the pan that I found in the ashes of the Careers supplies. Surprisingly, life couldn't get better in the arena, except for the fact that I''ve had an excruciating pain lingering in my throat for the past few days.

I have nothing else to do, Thresh is out, the sun is shining and a cool breeze wavers across my cheek. I let myself slip back into my past life, thinking about District Five.

I used to have this skipping rope. It wasn't anything special, just a bit of thick, white rope which I had found on the road one day. I can remember playing double-dutch with my friends, and the smell of plastic lingering in the air. Things where so simple then.

One day, when I was working in the power plant, I was feeling very, very bored. All of the adults were talking about power statistics in the Capitol, and how a lot of people had sent letters to our district complaining of power shortages. That was just unbearable for daily parties, I'm sure. Most of the people in our district didn't even have electricity running through their houses, although we are the power district.

Anyway, our elders where trying to find out what was going on with the power. I remember staring at the green, plastic plant that was positioned above my desk, slightly ruffled from the breeze coming through the open window.

My desk was a little cubicle facing the window. I was given a computer with old software, notepads, a pencil holder full of erasers, sharpeners and greyleads, and every now and then a sticky note. While the other kids around me, sitting in their little wheely office chairs in their cubicles where working out problems, I sometimes just sat and looked out of the window. It helped me when I needed a solution, the view. Not that I had much of a view, what I was looking at could really be described as nothing, really. Just houses and dirt roads. Horses and carriages also came every now and then, but I was used to that. If I really squinted my eyes and looked further enough, I was sure I could see a tree or two in the distance...

Then the alarms sounded. The bells rang in my ears, and I though I were going deaf. Like all the other children and adults, I ran out of the power plant in a panic. I remember wondering what in the world was going on.

My boss, Mr. Creaveley, an old man with a small patch of grey hair at the back of his head but otherwise bald, who always wore the same faded jeans and red checkered t-shirt that had to be tucked in, walked out of the building last with a peace-keeper, dragging a scrawny middle aged man by the ear.

I knew this man. His name was Mr. Jefforey. He was a nice man with a wife and three children. He lived next door.

Mr. Jefforey looked quite shocked, and scared. His dark black hair looked like he had been electrocuted, but really, thats just what everybody looked like if they worked at the power plant.