PISCES - Alessandra Devine
Alice knew that if she moved just an inch, all this would go away. If she simply lifted herself up off of the floor, this terrible image would leave and she would be left with only the fallout, and the fallout would definitely be a lot easier to handle than the real thing. But, knowing that she had to move herself and actually moving herself were two very different concepts. Almost to different for her to handle.
So, instead of moving, Alice stared up at a perfect image of herself- from her softly crooked nose to her chocolate colored hair to the shining brown eyes- looking down over her and sighing. This image picked up Alice and sat her upright on a rock-like cloud- propping her up so she would be more comfortable, and be able to see what ever was going to unfold. Alice tried to say 'thank you' to her image, but she didn't open her mouth.
So, instead of saying thank you, Alice stared straight ahead at the cloud-cage in front of her- almost a perfect image of her cave. The clouds had risen shortly after Alice had left Conway at their cave and, somehow, they did seem to resemble the inside of her cave. There was a molten brown color that seemed to tint the fluffy white of the cloud, making it look like rock. An inkling of dread began to creep further into Alice's mind. She knew what was going to happen and she knew she couldn't stop it. Unless she moved.
Alice didn't' move. She just sat and watched as Alice's image was looking over at Conway's sleeping figure and frowning. She watched as her figure stooped down to pick up his dagger and she began to sharpen it upon a rock by her feet. With each scrape of the metal on rock, Alice's heart dropped further and further. She could've sworn that her heart was going to fall out onto the floor in a splatter of blood and nervous butterflies. Her breaths were becoming shaky and forced, but she still didn't move. She just stared.
Every nerve in her body screamed for her to move and cursed her for even following those voices in the first place. They cursed her for not waking Conway when she left to search for food and for even having to search for food because she didn't gather enough supplies in the first place. They also cursed her for not being a good-enough protector and for giving Conway any hope that she could help him survive.
Still, Alice sat. She watched her image finally finish sharpening the knife and head over to Conway. Her heart pumped in her chest- so loud it felt as if the ground was shaking. She knew that if she didn't move now, she might lose her ally and friend forever. She wouldn't let that happen, but she still couldn't move. She wasn't sure why she couldn't move- chains weren't holding her down. She could still breathe, couldn't she? So, why wasn't she moving?
Finally, Alice lifted one finger off of the cloud she was sitting upon. Then, a second finger, and a third. And soon she had one full hand sitting in the air. She continued to stare at her image, who was drawing closer and closer to Conway, undaunted by Alice's sudden movement. Her image raised the hand with the knife, prepared to forcefully bring it down, when Alice's body slammed into her.
"There is no way I will ever kill Conway, so there is no way that you will either. So, don't you even think about it!" Alice screamed and punched her image in the face, then swung her arm around to make an attempt to grab the knife out of her image's hand, but she missed and ended up slicing her arm open on the knife's freshly sharpened blade. Blood blossomed out of the clean cut and began to pour out onto the clouds below her, turning it into a pink muddled mess. Alice didn't let this daunt her, though. Instead, she made another swing for the dagger, this time with her other arm, and grabbed it from her image's hand. She continued to ignore the pain in her arm and punched her image in the face, breaking her nose. Her image's face lit up with surprise and she raised her hand to her nose. When she took her hand away, her fingers were wet with blood.
The clouds underneath their feet were no longer a muddled pink mess, instead they were dyed with a deep crimson color and were growing more and more red by the second.
As she looked at the dagger in her hand, Alice realized that she had never used one before, only told others how to use one; now that she had it, she wasn't sure what she should do with it or what she was even going to do with it. But, Alice's figure knew exactly what she would do with the knife and lunged for it, staining the clouds with blood dripping from her broken nose. Alice whirled the knife away and thought back to how she told Conway to use the knife.
If you're ever in danger, just swing this and aim for the heart.
Alice took the dagger and plunged it into the heart of her image, which disappeared in a plume of smoke. It was in that that moment that Alice realized something that would forever change how she acted towards others. She would rather die herself, than have anyone harm Conway.
***
GEMINI - Mariposa Henrison
Darling Amaryllis,
Remember when we were fourteen and Lee cut his thumb in the bakery? I got blood all over myself, being next to him, and then I fainted from the sight of it, so when they finally got me home, covered in blood and unconscious, you though I was dead. You said, when I woke up and cleaned myself off and actually understood the situation, that it was the worst feeling in the world.
Then I laughed and told you it wasn't, surely, because remember when Ramsey kissed my under the Maypole instead of you when we were thirteen?
I'm sorry for belittling you, and I'm even sorrier that I know how it feels, now, to think that your twin is dead.
It started this morning, when I thought I heard someone calling my name. It woke me up from my sleep, though that could be counted as a blessing, since my dreams were more like nightmares, filled with the faces that were in the sky last night.
But the voice didn't seem to be coming from anywhere - yet, at the same time, it was coming from everywhere. I don't have the greatest hearing, Amy, you know, but I packed my backpack (still as small as the first night) and set off in the direction that I thought it was coming from.
I passed signs of other tributes as I walked - an almost-camouflaged camp, a half-dead fire, slight stains of blood on the clouds. It all seemed so surreal. Here I was, in an arena fighting to the death, and yet the other tributes are still going about their daily life, eating and sleeping and hiding.
The voice got louder as I walked, and though I still couldn't recognize it, it was singsongy and almost coaxing, like the voice you would use to get a wary cat to you.
It was strange, being all alone in the clouds. I'd always have you around me at home, and even in the arena, I was never alone for long. But under that velvety, star-studded sky that night, I was completely alone.
Then, of course, the clouds reared up and surrounded me and even if I had wanted to be with someone, I couldn't have been at that point. I was completely cut off from the rest of the arena, completely isolated. I thought I was going to die alone, until I saw the body on the ground.
As I got closer, though, my brain started denying the body. It can't be, it was saying. Impossible. But the features were too similar to mine to ignore - blonde hair, dyed with only blue, petite frame crumpled and streaked with red.
It was you, Amy.
I wasn't thinking straight, for minutes. I fell to the ground, crying, shaking you, pleading. I didn't know if you were dead or alive, couldn't even tell whether or not you - it - was real. Thinking back on it now, maybe this letter is going nowhere. Going to a grave.
It couldn't be, though, surely not, because I defeated the monster.
After I stopped wailing, I sat back and gave myself a pep talk.
"Mari, you're better than this. Think. You're smarter than this. Why would the Capitol risk public outrage by killing your adorable sister just to get to you? Amy isn't dead."
And it seemed like you had heard me, because just then you moaned, and sat upright. Sat isn't really the right way to describe it, though - you clawed your way upright, shuddering every time your chest was jostled, and then hunched there, like a reanimated corpse.
And then you - it - talked.
"Mari?" you asked, or more like groaned, stumbling over each consonant and tripping over the last vowel. "Mari, you. . . you. . ."
You paused, thinking, pondering your next words, then, out of nowhere, leapt forwards, scratching at my face with claw-like nails and shrieking. I could barely hear the words, except for I spent almost every minute of my childhood with you.
"You killed me!" you were shrieking. Over and over. "You killed me, Mari!"
I could barely keep you off of me - I didn't want to hurt you, even though you were so obviously agonized by even just the sight of me. It was hard to keep your hands off of me, especially with a long gouge down my face - the price I had paid for not reacting quickly enough when it first attacked.
I managed to grab my sword, to rake a gash down your arm. You - why do I keep calling that thing you? - fell back, howling, clutching at the wounded limb. I could have killed it right then, but something stopped me - probably your eyes, mirrors of my own, staring me with such utter hatred.
Then it lunged for me again and impaled itself on my sword. It was over. The clouds fell. The danger was gone.
But the memory wasn't. I couldn't get back to sleep after that, remembering your bloodstained-shirt, your haunted cheeks, your loathing eyes.
I suppose I'm writing this to you so that I can reassure myself that it wasn't you - you're safe at home, praying for my safety, watching with bated breath. But still.
Are you still there, Amy? Or did you die in the clouds, betrayed by your closest friend?
Mariposa, who hopes you're still there.
***
CANCER - Alaska Nolem
Did not hand in.
***
LEO - Phylla Starkov
Did not hand in.
***
LIBRA - Clara Erwin
I have no idea where I'm going, but something compels me to keep running. I've been running for so long that I've forgotten what I'm running from. My legs feel like they're on fire; I stumble over yet another tree trunk as I force my way through the trees. I can't see the edge of the arena anymore - if it's still there.
"Clara!"
I can hear someone calling my name, although the voice isn't familiar to me. My body follows the sound, although the thick fog is making my head hurt and I can't work out where I am or where I'm going.
Eventually I see light, and hurry towards it hoping that I can get out of the fog. The light is blinding and I drop to my knees, my hands instinctively reaching up to shield my eyes. When I have adjusted to my new surroundings I see my family. We are still in the woods but my kitchen table has appeared in the centre of it, where my parents and my brother sit enjoying a meal. Behind them is a projection of the games, but no one is paying attention to it. My chair at the table remains empty, but no one seems to mind.
"Can you pass the butter?" my mother asks. I imagine myself handing her the butter, but today my brother hands it over without a word and they continue their meal. I want to rush over, take my place at the table and join the meal but sometimes stops me. I feel as if the chair would shock me if I tried to sit in it.
"More potatoes, anyone?"
That's my father. He stands up and dishes out another round of potatoes onto everybody's plate. I notice how he doesn't even glance at my plate or show any remorse that I am no longer sitting in it. Do they even care that I'm gone?
They continue the strange behaviour, speaking politely to one another and refusing to look at the empty fourth chair. It's like my chair isn't really there at all. Before I can think again my chair has disappeared, and now just the three chairs remain around the kitchen table. But does anyone notice and care to comment? Of course not.
I bury my head in my hands, praying that the kitchen table will disappear. I was never expecting to return home, but seeing the kitchen table makes me realise how I have truly been forgotten. Maybe it's just a hologram, I try to tell myself, but I can't shake the crushing feeling that it's a real image and my family really have erased all memories of me. Maybe it's just a way for them to deal with the pain, or maybe they can't stand being associated with me.
"Aw, Clara, don't cry!"
I look up. My best friend Lydia looms in front of my face, giggling. She turns around and beckons to the group of girls behind her. They surround me, each of them pointing and laughing and making fun of me. I cover my ears, but it's no use. Their insults still get inside my head, teasing me, taunting me."Let's play hide and seek. I'll seek!" Lydia declares.
The other girls run off to hide. Lydia closes her eyes and theatrically begins a countdown from ten. She moves her arms in a wide circle and grins, before turning on her heel and marching off in search of the other girls. It's like she doesn't even see me.
Before I can stop it a shuddering gasp has escaped my mouth, followed by the sobs that I can't seem to control. I drop to the floor, wrapping my arms tightly around my knees and trying to hide my tears. First my family has forgotten me, and now it appears my friends have too. Or maybe this is all a mind game, testing how strong I am and when I reach my breaking point. But maybe this is real and nobody remembers me anymore.
The fog begins to clear, and slowly the shrieks of people being found begin to fade, almost like they were never there to begin with. Once again I am alone in the clearing, with no one to talk to and the thought that back home nobody remembers who I am. I don't want to be another forgotten face, but unfortunately it seems like I've already been forgotten.
***
SCORPIO - Larissa Thessaly
Did not hand in.
***
SAGITTARIUS - Elisa Van de Graff
Elisa was sick and tired of being in these Games. They weren't real games. Real games had teams, and at the end, everyone would shake hands and say "Good game."
Elisa couldn't imagine anyone saying "good game" after this.
She shivered where she sat. The clouds were colder than she would have expected. That shouldn't have been a surprise, seeing as nothing up here had been as expected so far. Honestly, she couldn't understand what she had expected when she won the fateful volleyball tournament. Not this, but had she really been so naïve as to expect a normal game?
It was an odd smell that drew her attention away from her own thoughts. She wrinkled her nose and squinted at what she saw. A dark mist in the distance. She blinked, squinted, and blinked again. She could see the mist moving closer.
"Elisa!" A voice cried from within the mist. "Elisa!"
Crap! This must be one of those challenges that the Pantheon produced to make trouble, like the storm had been. Elisa's heart began to pound and she scrambled to her feet.
Which way to run? Only a second ago there had been no mist in sight, and no it seemed that the mist was surrounding her on all sides.
Elisa had heard once from her sister that if you were in a fire and surrounded, the best thing to do was to run right through the flames as fast as you could and stop, drop and roll once you were on the other side. She wasn't sure if this was correct, seeing as her sister wasn't the most accurate source of information, the idea still stood.
She braced herself and closed her eyes for a second. She could do this. Then she opened her eyes and ran full force into the mist.
It didn't work. The mist was thicker than she had anticipated. When Elisa skidded to a stop, she was still immersed in the mist.
It'll be okay, she thought to herself. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Where was this threat the Pantheon was bringing at her?
"Come on," she whispered. It was the waiting she truly couldn't bear. Waiting, all her muscles tense, her heart pounding in her chest, her blood rushing through her ears... Bile rose up in her throat.
All in a rush, she fell to her knees. She barely had time to pull her hair back before the contents of her stomach came retching back up. As if that wasn't enough, when she'd finished throwing up, she was still alone in the mist. Still lost. Still waiting for an attack.
"The least you could do is kill me quickly," Elisa whispered into the air. She listened for any kind of response. It didn't come.
***
CAPRICORN - Wilhelmina Kaplan
She should've known better than to follow whoever was calling to her.
Will's number one rule of survival was not to put herself in potentially dangerous situations. In order to live, you have to avoid things that will kill you. She hadn't faced anything particularly dangerous since the earthquake but she attributed that to her survival rules. As long as she followed them, she'd be fine.
Most of the rules warned against following whatever voice was saying her name. Really, it had been a stupid thing for her to do but Will's curiosity got the best of her. She'd made less rational choices in her short life. The voice had felt vaguely familiar to her but Will wasn't sure why. She supposed, after finding herself in the middle of a swirling bunch of clouds, that it had been a worse decision than she'd thought.
"Hello? Hello!? Let me out!" Will wasn't afraid, she kept telling herself that there was nothing to fear, but she wanted desperately to get out. They were just clouds but they were too close to her. She felt trapped.
There weren't many things that Will feared. Heights was the most rational; after all, falling from the top of something very tall is more life threatening than insects or the dark. She considered herself to be a brave girl but the idea of being trapped in such a small place made her feel sick to her stomach. A tight space couldn't hurt her, especially not one made of clouds, but Will wasn't thrilled by her situation.
It was even more concerning when the clouds started to move in closer, more of them swirling around her as she stood and watched. Will took a few steps back but the clouds just moved closer to her. The space around her was becoming much smaller and anxiety began gnawing in the pit of her stomach. Why were they getting closer?
Will told herself that she was being irrational, that she shouldn't be afraid of being caught in the clouds. She crouched when a layer began to press down on her head. Her hands were shaking and she stuffed them into the pockets of her jacket. It was stupid to be afraid, nothing was going to hurt her. It was a tight space, not an electric chair. There was nothing for her to fear. Claustrophobia is irrational, she told herself, there was no reason for her to be afraid.
Soon the walls formed by the clouds were still pressing closer to her. She was cured up on the ground, her hands braced against the clouds. Pushing back had proven to be useless. Clouds weren't supposed to make such solid structures but Will may as well have been trapped in a steel box. The idea of it made her sick and she could feel a cold sweat breaking out on her back.
There was nothing to be afraid of. She repeated it over and over again, the way she did when she was a child and thunder shook her house or when she climbed the cliffs for the first time. Will had always been good at managing her fear. Conquering it was difficult but managing it should've been easy; she'd been doing it for years. But she couldn't shake the panic that gripped her as the walls got closer.
She kept pushing in hopes that she could break through. The clouds were resistant to her resistance; the harder Will tried to make them stop, the closer they got to her. Her heart made an erratic sort of drumbeat against her ribs and it was all she could hear. The blood pounding in her ears was deafening. She wanted out. She wanted to get out. Will couldn't rationalize her fear, she didn't know why she was so terrified, but she wanted it to stop.
Will had no choice but to curl up on herself. She tried to make herself as small as possible, tried to minimize the space that she was taking up in the quickly shrinking box that she'd ended up in. Her breathing was panicked, unsteady. She shouldn't have been afraid. Why was she so afraid? Will curled in tighter and buried her face in her knees. This shouldn't scare her, why did this scare her so much?
When she looked up after an eternity of shaking and telling herself to calm down, the walls were receding. They moved infuriatingly slow but Will was overwhelmed with relief nonetheless. Her body couldn't move fast enough for her brain as she scrambled to her feet and staggered out of the slowly dissolving clouds. She had never been so glad to be outside and she would probably never feel that way again. Will wanted to go home.
She shouldn't have been so scared. Of the clouds, of the competition, of any of it. She shouldn't have been this scared.
But she was.