Dear Diary,
I wake up in the morning feeling heavy, and I let out a sigh. Despite the fact that my infection was basically gone, I took my final dose of the magic medicine. I didn't want to start feeling worse just because I skipped the last dose.
I look around, and noticing that no one was awake yet, I decide to start making some sort of breakfast. I take out rolls for four, slicing them open with one of the many daggers surrounding our camp. Nice. Sleeping with knives, literally. I wanted to start cooking the rest of their food too, but I just couldn't bring myself to cook any poor dead animal, or reheat any prepackaged and dried meat.
So instead, with every roll I laid out a large handful of blackberries, or that's what I assume they are at least, since they're berries and they're black. I haven't learned about any other berry like that by the color. As I'm setting everything up on one of the suitcases of special knives, Cicero wakes up.
"Good morning sunshine," he grins at me, winking suggestively. Sighing internally, I smile shyly back at him.
Just deal with it, Annie. It could help you survive.
"Good morning. I made you guys food. Well, not made, but uh, I laid it out," I offered as I laid my hands out, showing it off. Cicero grinned, picking up his roll.
"Let's eat then,"
I take my berries in my hand, popping them into my mouth slowly, savoring the sweet and sour flavor. Slowly, Desdemona and Sparkle start waking up. Man, Cicero is out-womaned here. I wonder how that feels, if Burundi took notice. I wonder how Burundi felt that most of the remaining girls were in an alliance, working together. Then I thought back to our initial conversation at the tribute parade so long ago. And then I thought for a second, how long have I been in here?
The bloodbath, the girl who died—was killed—in front of us, our time in the dinosaur area, Marietta, the guy from five, two days of sleeping, and now Gunner. Eight days. That makes today the ninth.
I've been in here over a week. Over a week of surviving in these games. Over a week of eating the same bread, apples, shadermellons and berries. And the soup from Marietta, which I am so grateful for. Over a week of no showers. Man, I probably stink, I'm surprised these careers can stand me. Well, I'm sure they don't smell the best either. Now that I think about it, I can't really tell. Perhaps we've all gone noseblind. Perhaps we've all gone mad, killing other children just to bring fame and riches to our district. Or perhaps it's the capitals fault.
The ninth day comes and goes, with the careers searching for children to murder and me trailing behind. They were starting to get angry, upset that they couldn't find the other kids. When they started expressing that anger, I knew the game makers were going to do something to draw in all the other tributes. What, I don't know.
But nonetheless, I went to bed on the ninth night nervous, no, terrified, of what was going to come the following day.
Which, for the record, I should have been.
When we woke up, half of our food was gone.
"Oh no! I am not going to deal with this!" Dez shouts, grabbing a sword and going off into the woods. I had no clue if she would find anyone, and I prayed the person she finds won't be Percy. Standing up quickly, Sparkle grabs an axe and goes after her, leaving me with Cicero.
"I guess it's just us two, huh?" Cicero asks, sliding next to me and wrapping his arm around me. I look up to the sky, as if silently apologizing to Finnick, asking him to come save me. But he can't save me. I'm in the games. He can't come in here and save me: no one can.
"Yeah, I guess," I mumble as I stretched out, not fully awake yet. Despite the fact that I had the capitals best medicine, despite the fact that I was asleep for two straight days earlier in the week, I still felt exhausted, and my shoulder still hurt just a little bit whenever someone touched it. Cicero wrapped his arm around me, and as if he heard my thoughts about the pain in my shoulder, he put his hands on my bicep, not my cut.
I lean into him, resting my head on his chest. "Cicero," I begin, looking ahead of us at our shoes, dirty and dashed with blood, a sharp reminder that I was talking to a fellow tribute, not Immah, Seeah, Alex or someone else close to me. "Why do you guys form the career alliance? You know only one person can win,"
"I mean, we all know only one can win. We come in to this with the mindset that we want to be the one to win. We understand the killing part. We form this alliance in hopes that we can pick off everyone else, and then leave a fair game between us careers. Plus, the longer you stay alive in the games, the more tesserae your family gets. And for me at least, that's all my family cares about. They're all like:
"Win, Cicero."
"Bring us riches and fame, Cicero."
But like, I'm their only child. And I don't think they truly understand what happens in these games. I don't come back home, I don't get 'eliminated' if I die. I die. But all they're thinking about is the money. I mean, what else could except from a family in two," he lets out a heavy sigh, his tough demeanor finally broken down.
What should I tell him? What should I say to him? I think back to my moment with Velerio on the train, supporting him after he told me about his experiences with homophobia in the past. I scoot in closer to Cicero, wrapping my arms around his chest.
"I'm sorry that's how you've grown up, I'm sorry that's how your parents think of you," I say, holding him as tightly as I can without hurting my arms.
"It's fine," he sighs, moving his hand up and holding my hair, running his fingers through my ponytail slowly. "I'm surprised I even opened up to you, I don't do that often," he expresses nervously. "I just hope they don't air that..." He mumbles under his breath.
I nod, leaning my head into his chest and closing my eyes. If I pretend enough, he feels like Finnick; warm, strong, supportive. But I open my eyes, and instead of the comforting smell of sugar, I am met with one of blood, dirt, and sweat. Definitely not Finnick, who probably showers twice a day to keep his hair looking so perfect.
Right, I can't be thinking like that. I need to think, what makes me desirable? Would that be getting closer with Cicero? If the capital was invested in some kind of romance between us, surely they wouldn't kill me off, right? Right? I wish instead of writing out all my questions, I could be back in the tribute rooms, talking with Mags about all of my worries.
I bite my bottom lip, giving my tongue a break from the constant pressure of my teeth. Sitting up carefully, I look back at Cicero. His brown hair had fallen into his face, perhaps from all of the perspiration over time. I use my fingers to brush it out of his eyes and push it back, away from his forehead. "Do you want something to eat?" As I stand up I extend my hand, offering to help him up, even though I knew full well he didn't need my help.
He took my hand, and just as we were reaching for some of those prepackaged salads, a cannon went off overhead. My mind instantly screamed: Percy?! But in my head I knew I couldn't show any sort of affiliation towards him. Instead, I had to think about the other careers. He would be fine, he is smart, so smart, I assure myself. But in my head, I'm a little bit worried.
Nonetheless, Cicero drops the food down onto the suitcase of knives we used to eat on yesterday, and goes running into the forrest, calling out
"Dez? Sparkle!"
I follow after him, albeit not as fast a runner, especially after being wounded for so many days, I am able to keep him in my line of vision. I just keep running, that's all my mind can focus on. Run, Annie, run! All of a sudden I feel my face pressed up against something hard. The ground hits me like a meteor, my arms bending back and my elbows taking the brunt of the fall. I let out a small cry as my shoulder hits the ground: despite the fact that my cut and infection have gotten better, my tribute uniform never got repaired, and my skin was still exposed. I check the cut nervously, and let out a sigh of relief when I realize I did not reopen it.
On the other hand, my hands were bloodied and cut up. Cicero turned around, reaching down to help me up. "Sorry Annie," I grab his hand, getting blood on his hands too. I wipe off my hands on my tribute uniform, shaking slightly. I've known since a young age, damaging the palm of your hand is one of the worst injuries ever. They touch everything, and they have a lot of nerves that can become easily exposed. Overall, not a fun injury in the slightest.
"You okay?" Sparkle asks me, coming from in front of Cicero and putting her hand on my back. I nod, being careful not to let my hands touch anything so as to not get them bloody or cause myself unnecessary pain.
"Don't worry," she whispers, leaning in close to my ear. "It was the boy from eight that Dez and I found, not your district partner," I envelop her in a hug, not even caring about the bloody axe in her hands that she probably just used to kill someone. Percy was alive, Percy was safe. All I could hope was that he was eating and drinking, and staying out of the way of the dinosaurs.
"Thank you," I whisper back to Sparkle, a large smile on my face. She understood the bond between Percy and I, saw how at the training and the interviews we stayed near one another. Although I never told her directly how I was connected to him, how he was my best friends little brother, how he reminded me so much of my little brother, I think she understood that I had a soft side in my heart for him. And hopefully, the other careers might too.
I take a deep breath, helping to carry what Sparkle and Dez found on that boys body; another knife, three arrows from god knows where, a sleeping bag and a water canteen. At this point, I can confidently say that knives outnumber the tributes in this arena. If the game makers gave them brains, which, I wouldn't put it past them, we would be easily defeated.
"What about the girl from eight, Goldie Locks, any sign of her?" Cicero asks. I could see in his face that he hoped they had some sort of inkling, because I understood now: one more kill to him wasn't one more innocent life taken, it was one step closer to bringing pride to his family, to getting it home alive. Maybe if I had that mindset, I could make it further in these games. Maybe.
We make our way over to the waterfall, seemingly the only source of water in this arena aside from the small streams in "dinosaur land", and refill our canteens. As we do that, Cicero helps bandage up my hands, using some sort of sap from leaves from a nearby plant. "It'll help the cuts heal quicker," he explains, softly rubbing the sap into my hands, "just be careful about touching things with them for a couple of hours." I look up at him, nodding and thanking him for the help.
"Guys, if there's basically no other water in the arena, why don't we just set up camp here? It'll be easier to catch tributes, they need to come get water at some point," Dez explains, surveying the area for somewhere flat to sleep.
"Yeah but that requires moving all our stuff, which, is completely unattended at the moment, let me remind you," Cicero points out.
"If we slept up here, we'd have to sleep in shifts, because the noise of the waterfall makes it harder to hear people sneaking up on us," I explain, my voice already raised to talk over the deafening sound of the waterfall.
Sparkle nods in agreement, surveying the area. "I mean, Dez, if you want to we can sleep up here tonight, and Cicero and Annie can sleep down at the camp," she offers, sending a small wink towards me. No! That's not what I want.
Dez laughs out loud, holding her stomach as she laughs. "I'm gonna pass on that. I wouldn't trust Annie to watch over our materials for even an hour," she scoffs, folding her strong arms over her chest. Jeez. Guess we weren't getting closer after all.
"I guess we'll all just go back to the camp then. C'mon guys!" Sparkle beckons us forward, leading us the direction that at this point I've traveled so many times. I hear a sound in the woods, and I look around the nearby area, my eyebrows knitting together. Huh. If I squint my eyes hard enough, I think I can see those bright blue eyes again. Afraid of saying anything and leading everyone in the wrong direction, I keep my eyes shut, and pray that blue eyed guy doesn't shoot me.
Finally, we made our way back to the cornucopia, and we set up the camp with our food and knives closer to us. "Why don't we sleep in shifts tonight?" I ask, looking at everyone around me. As Dez and Sparkle bicker over how we're going to sleep tonight, Cicero goes out with a bow and arrow and shoots a few rabbits. Apparently he was good with a bow and arrow too. Could these careers do everything?
I build the fire, taking one of their matches to strike it. As they cook their food, I take an apple, finishing it quickly. I explain to them that I was going to go off into the woods for a second, to find some shadermellons, because they help you fall asleep fast. As I'm off in the woods, I catch a glimpse of a blonde head of hair running away. The blonde hair... the blue eyes. Right. The guy from district six. That's who it was.
I pull the shadermellons off the trees and get back to the careers just in time to hear the anthem and see the face of the district eight male playing over the sky. I let out a sign, putting the shadermellons on the suitcase of knives.
"I'll take first watch."
Thanks for listening,
Annie