I hummed quietly to myself as I looked at the horizon, watching as the sun cast shadows onto the ground. There were pinks and oranges and yellows and all sorts of colours in the sky. I hadn't seen a sunset this beautiful in years, the last time I saw one this extraordinary was when I was 10. I still remember that day.
~FLASHBACK START~
I was sitting in my usual position on a Monday afternoon, carving crooked images into the wall with my knife - the only thing I could really do in my room - when suddenly a light began to shine from behind the boarded up windows. I stood up from my position, my muscles aching from cramps, and tentatively peered past the wooden boards. I could see pinks and oranges and the sun, silhouetteing the trees and creating a landscape that was, well, beautiful. I felt an immense sadness well up inside me. I never understood why exactly I was locked away in my room.
All I remember was little 4 year old me getting dragged into the attic, and sat watching, confused and wondering. Wondering why my mother was looking at me in fear, afraid of her own child. Wondering why my parents were boarding up my windows, cutting off the outside world. Wondering why, even when my parents left the room, I wasn't allowed to leave with them, and instead my tiny toddler body was shoved roughly back inside before the trap door was slammed shut. I spent my whole life wondering why I was locked away. Now maybe I know why. Maybe I am the devil, as my parents said. Maybe I am a freak, as the other tributes told me. Maybe I'm just wrong. Not right.
A mistake.
My small fingers closed around the wooden board and began to pull, and I grunted with the effort as my tiny 10 year old body tried to remove the boards. Finally, I heard a crack, and I smiled to myself. I felt so rebellious, so alive. My parents would punish me for this, but when I was in the moment I didn't care. All I wanted to do was to see the beautiful sunset - a sight I hadn't seen for 6 long years. I ripped the other board from the window, and threw the board to the ground. I climbed onto the window sill in my haste, and swung my legs out the window. I sat, on the precipice of freedom, and looking out at the picturesque landscape seemed to give me strength I hadn't felt for years.
'I could escape right now.' I thought. 'I could jump from here and be free.'
I looked down at the ground. It was a far drop, at least 4 metres. I edged closer to the outside world, preparing to jump. Just as I was about to leap to the ground, I heard a door slam. I froze immediately.
"Noelle?" I heard my mother's voice float up the stairs, nervousness apparent in her tone. I whimpered. If my mother knew that I was thinking of escaping, my father was almost 100% guaranteed to come up to the attic and beat me. Again.
"Noelle?" my mother repeated her earlier question, but this time I heard a hint of urgency in her voice. "Noelle, what are you doing up there?"
I didn't answer. I was sick of this. Sick of being trapped. Sick of being caged like an animal. Sick of my being confined to the attic. Sick of being fed through the trapdoor. Sick of everything.
"Noelle! Don't make me get your father!" I heard my mother threaten once more. I scowled. No. I was done with this. I looked up at the sunset once more, drawing strength from the beauty of it. I heard another door slam, and knew that my father was coming. My mother would make good on her promise, I knew that from experience. Even as I sat at the window, the multiple scars on my back and stomach burned from scratching against my cotton shirt. The same cotton shirt that was caked in dried blood.
I looked down at the ground below me. I was going to do it. I was going to be free. Suddenly, two strong arms wrapped around my torso, pulling me backwards and away from safety. I screamed in frustration, kicking out and shouting. I was so close to freedom. So damn close. I was thrown to the ground, and looked up to see my father, holding a knife in one hand, and a whip in the other. His face was contorted in anger.
"Trying to escape, eh?" he snarled. He held the knife threateningly. "Noelle, you know we do this for your own good."
"Do you?" I snapped. My father seemed surprised by my talking back. He recovered quickly and scowled, striding up to me. I screamed in fear and back up against the wall. My attempts were in vain, however. My father grabbed me roughly by the collar and dragged my out, holding the whip threateningly.
"Just know this is for your own good!" he snarled. He lifted up the back of my shirt, exposing my scarred back, and brought the whip down on my flesh with a horrifying 'crack'. I screamed and fell forward, my back instinctively arching. My father brought down the whip again and again, hitting me all over my back. My back felt like it was on fire. I gritted my teeth to stop from screaming, knowing from experience that would just get me beaten more. If you've ever accidently fallen over and cut yourself on something, multiply that feeling by about a thousand, and that's what being whipped felt like. I felt tears begin to run down my face. My father whipped me once more, then stopped, breathing heavily. I was lying feebly on the floor, my fists curled into balls and my eyes sqeezed shut, determined to stop any tears from slipping out. A few moments of silence passed, then I heard my fathers footsteps retreat from the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and I remained in the same position on the floor, too overcome to move.
I sobbed into the timber floor, my teeth gritted in pain as my back stung. I felt rage boil inside me, like a kettle, and my nails dug into the wood flooring. I managed to stagger to a standing position, blood running down my back, and I swayed slightly from side to side, as if drunk. I looked around at the attic, how close I had been to freedom only to be punished, and my demeanour broke.
I screamed. I screamed louder than I'd ever screamed before. I screamed until my throat was hoarse and my voice was crackly. I ran over to the crates that sat in the corner, and began to throw them across the room, continuing to scream. I smashed a crate against the trapdoor, watching as the crate broke to little pieces. I picked up a heavy wooden box and, with a tortured roar, I threw it with all my might against the wall. The wood splintered, and stray bits of debris flew from the mess, almost taking my eye out. I fell to the ground, pounding my fists on the floor and screaming. My nails began to scratch desperately on my arm, the sharp, untrimmed edges digging into my skin. Blood sprouted from the scratches, and I continued to scream, scratching my arms so much that blood began to get caught under my nails. My arms began to burn, and blood ran from the wounds I had created.
I stopped screaming, and leaned back against the wall, the world spinning around me. Then, completely alone, with my burning arms and bleeding back, rested my head against the wall and began to gently sob, the only sound in the otherwise mute world. I was going to kill my parents. I was going to kill anyone that ever stood in my way. No one knew what I'd endured. No one knew what I had suffered.
Well, I was going to make them suffer.
~FLASHBACK FINISH~
I was snapped back to reality as the anthem began to blare, surprising me so much I almost fell from the tree. The first face to appear was Titan, who was the only male career left. Now it was just girls. Next was Jackson Bennett, the boy from District 3. The next face was Chase from District 6. The final face to appear was Sparrow from District 8. The capitol seal appeared, and then I was plunged once more into darkness, the last of the sunset dissappearing behind the horizon. I began to count off who was left on my fingers. The 3 careers, Callisto, Red and India. The alliance of Cherry, Elaine, Florina and now Devlin. Then there was the two soloists, Cloud and I. 9 of us left.
I shuffled into my sleeping bag, my eyes becoming droopy with tiredness. Whilst my body wanted to sleep, my brain insisted on staying awake, constantly replaying that horrible memory in my brain over and over again, like a broken record.
I think it's safe to say I didn't get much sleep that night.
***
I was awoken by an arrow whizzing past my face, almost taking my nose off with it. I shrieked and fell sidewards, tumbling my way down the tree. I landed with a painful thud on the ground, and my hand immediately shot to my vest, where my daggers were strapped in.
"Wait, Florina?"
My eyes widened. My hands dropped to my sides and I turned around, coming face to face with Callisto. A smirk began to fight its way onto my face, but I repressed it. Something weird was going on. A puddle lay near my feet, and I looked into it. Florina's face stared back at me.
I screamed in shock and stumbled backwards and away from my reflection. My back hit the tree trunk as Callisto stared at me, her face conveying that she thought I was mad.
"Florina, what the hell is wrong with you?" Callisto spoke, and I frowned slightly. She sounded nothing like Callisto. Her voice was higher pitched and less smooth. I immediatly recognized the voice. It was Elaine.
Then it dawned on me. Everyone in the arena had been swapped. I had clearly been swapped for Florina, and Callisto had been swapped for Elaine. This whole concept was hard to wrap my mind around. If Elaine's voice was still clear through her outward appearance as Callisto, it meant my accent would be clear as day.
"Florina?" Callis-... Elaine spoke again. She still hadn't grasped the fact that everyone had been swapped around. Interacting with another tributes felt weird - alien, almost.
"Florina, talk to me."
Shoot.
If I spoke, Elaine would hear my voice and immediately know it was me. I shut my eyes and tried to summon all my acting skills.
"What going on?" I mumbled. My voice was quiet, hopefully Elaine wouldn't pick up on the accent. But she did. Her eyes widened, and she stepped forward. Her eyes were distrustful.
"You're not Florina."
"And you not Callisto." I growled, letting my full accent show. I stepped up towards her, and immediately pulled a dagger from my vest. I lunged towards Elaine with a fierce battle cry, and stabbed her through the stomach. Her eyes widened as she looked down at her wound, almost in disbelief. She crumpled to the ground, and I cackled, immediately setting to work.
My knife slashed across her wrists and ankles, exposing bone and tendons and flesh. I ripped off her feet and hands, listening to her tortured screams. I put them in a pile. Those were for later. My knife punctured her stomach, and I drove the tip through her rip cage. I ripped open her chest, watching the blood cascade down my fingertips, and threw my dagger to the side. Now for the real fun.
Elaine's organs were exposed, her beating heart, her slowly breathing lungs, all of the other stuff. I reached in with my hands and ripped out her rip cage. Elaine screamed again, but she was getting weaker. How the hell she was even still alive, I had no idea. My fingers dug into her right lung, my nails digging deep into the muscles, and eventually I had weakened it enough. I ripped the lung from her body, and tossed it onto the pile with her feet and hands. Elaine's breathing immidietly took a turn for the worse, and I frowned. I needed to act fast if I wanted to inflict more pain.
I didn't remove the other lung. She still needed to breathe. I was keeping her alive for as long as I could, to drag out the torture as long as possible. I examined my hands, and realized bits of flesh were stuck under my jagged unkept nails. I shrugged and chewed them, ripping out the stuck bits of flesh, and went back to work. I dug my nails into Elaine's stomach and yanked it out next. It landed on the pile of body parts. Soon enough, I had extracted the kidneys as well. Elaine was slipping into death. Her eyes were beginning to shut. I could fix that.
I reached into her eyes cavities and scooped out her eyeballs with my bare hands. They too went onto the pile of body parts. Elaine screamed and writhed around a bit more, until finally her eyelids shut over her non-existant eyes.
BOOM!
"NOOO!" I screamed at the corpse beneath me. Her features began to warp, and slowly, her appearance changed from Callisto back to herself.
"I'M NOT DONE!" I screamed. My fists pounded on the ground, rage bubbling beneath me. I wasn't done with my fun, and she had just died on me? I scowled and delved into the chest cavity once more, viciously ripping out her heart and her other lung and placing them on the pile. I stood up, gathering the pile of body parts in my arms. I looked down at the hollow shell of a human that used to be Elaine. She wasn't even recognizable anymore. I skipped back to my campsite, humming merrily to myself as I jostled the body parts I held in my arms.
What a fantastic day it had been.
~~~
The spit roast began to turn over the flames, turning the meat a delicious colour and providing a wonderful smell. I sat back and smiled at my work. I couldn't find any animals to eat on the islands - they had probably all fallen of the edge or were killed - so I ended up just cooking Elaine's organs into a kebab. It's not cannabalism if it's cooked, right?
Soon enough, the anthem began to play. I took the meat off of the spit roast as I looked up at the sky. The first face was Florina. The next face was Cloud. Then, the next two faces were Elaine and Devlin, both from district 12. I giggled as I saw Elaine's face in the sky. I took a bite of my Elaine-kebab as her face dissappeared.
"Taste like beef." I mumbled to nobody in particular. I continued to eat, merrily humming a tune my mother taught me before I was locked away.
Suddenly, I heard the noise of crunching leaves. My head snapped up immeditaly, and I turned to see Cherry. Obviously the body switching was over now. Cherry's eyes were huge as she stared at the kebab in my hands. Judging by her face, she clearly knew that it was her ally.
Well, former ally.
"You ate her?" Cherry squeaked. She stumbled back, her eyes wide in absolute terror. I shrugged at her, then looked down at the food in my hands. Maybe she wanted some? I giggled to myself and held out some food, a grin on my face.
"Kebab?"