Dear Diary,
Water, my home. My kryptonite. When it saved my life, did it take it too?
I woke up in the morning with a stiff back, the upright position much harsher on my body than it was the first couple of nights when I was stronger. I sigh as I pack my jacket back into my backpack, and I take a small sip of my water. I really hope that these games end today, because my half a canteen of water is dwindling fast. I securely put it back in my backpack before testing the strength of the branch next to me. It wasn't too bad. If I could climb across a couple of branches, I could make it to the other side of the imaginary line dividing the dinosaurs from the rest of the arena.
So, that's what I do.
Or at least, what I try to do.
I end up getting well across the tree I'm on, but I slightly—or well, majorly—underestimated how far that other tree is compared to my body. The gap spanned about the length of my entire leg, maybe more—I'm obviously not the best at estimating—and now seemed totally impossible to cross. As I neared the edge of the tree, I looked at the branches surrounding me. Slightly up and to my right there was a branch that had a much closer branch on the opposite tree.
Taking a deep breath, I heave myself up onto the branch, trying to make as little noise as possible so as to not draw the attention of any nearby dinosaurs. I climbed up to the branch, steadying myself and then crawling across the branch in an army style, flat on my stomach. Once I reached the edge of the branch, I glanced down nervously.
It was a far drop.
Onto hard, cold rocks.
If the drop didn't kill me, velociraptors would.
I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes for just a second to regain my calm demeanor. In my head, I heard Finnick's voice telling me to come back, so that we could explore where we were going.
If not for me, then for him.
I reach for the branch on the other tree, just barely wrapping a couple of my fingers around it. Like a kid on a playground set, I swung my body from this branch to that one, my feet just landing on the small branch below it. While still holding on to the top branch, I slowly shimmy my feet in closer to the center of the tree, until I can safely take my hands off the top and cling to the middle of the tree. I did it!
I sit down on the tree for a second, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. Listen, that took a lot of force, a lot more strength than running for hours did. As I was sitting in the tree, taking a rest, I saw something red out of the corner of my eye. I let out a small gasp, curling in and expecting some bloody tribute to come down and attack me. To my surprise, nothing attacks me. Instead, the red object stays stationary: it was an apple!
Unable to contain my excitement, I stand back up and shimmy my way around the tree, collecting the two small red apples that were hidden up in the tree, far away from the line of vision of any other hungry tributes. Two apples, saved just for me.
I instantly stick one in my backpack, saving it for sometime later, since I was unsure about how much longer these games were going to last. I take a bite out of the other one, savoring the sweet juice of the apple. I take a second bite, leaning my back up against the center of the tree. I stay there for a decent amount of time, eating my apple and relaxing, knowing that I was safe from the dinosaurs. It wasn't until I heard the caw of a pterodactyl overhead that I quickly got to my feet and scurried down the tree, hurrying away from the pre-historic warzone.
By the time that I was down from the tree and out of the area, I was done with my apple. I nonchalantly throw the core over my shoulder, like an archetype of a "cool kid" in the books I read. I giggle, for just a second forgetting that I'm one of three remaining tributes in a fight to the death. Just for a second, though. I am quickly reminded when I feel my back ache, a harsh reminder that the way I slept last night was not efficient.
Despite not having much water to drink, I felt relatively refreshed due to the apple and the slices of tomato that I had last night. Both fruits had a decent amount of juice in them, or at least enough to make me feel hydrated and give me a little energy boost. So I continued walking on, putting as much space between me and the dinosaur land as I possibly could. Although there were only three tributes left and there was a small chance of us running in to each other, I kept my hand steadily on my knife, although unsure if I would actually use it when the time came.
As I continued to walk, I saw the tip of the cornucopia poking out amongst the trees. Oh wow, I guess I'm getting close. Maybe I should stop and turn around, I don't want to run into anyone.
As if the arena read my mind, I heard a cannon go off. I was instantly on my feet, running away from the cornucopia and back towards the forrest behind it. As I was running, I bumped into a tree, knocking it over and tumbling down, sprawling out on my hands and legs. I quickly turned around, my knife had been knocked out of my hand and was lying to my left. It wasn't a tree. It was Cicero. And we were the last two tributes. He didn't do it before, but he was going to kill me now. I knew it.
I looked up at him, my eyebrows knit together as if pleading with him. "Cicero I-" I begin, backing away from him and hitting my back against an actual tree. Before I could finish what I was saying, he interrupted me, shouting and pointing to the forrest behind me. "Annie, watch out!" He shouts, pointing behind me and stepping a few feet to run in the opposite direction.
As I turned my head to look at what he was pointing at, I instantly felt my face engulfed in water. My head slammed against the tree, giving me an instant migraine and making me scream underwater. This was it. I was going to die, here, under water, where I felt most at home.
Wait.
Water is where I feel most at home.
Suddenly, my mind is flooded with memories. I saw myself swimming in the ocean with my father as a small girl, when my mom stayed back on the shoreline, pregnant with Abigail or Alex, unsure of the child's gender. I saw myself at my first swim competition, watching the people in the division above me, age nine, competing. I saw myself under the water at my first competition, merely eight years old, hearing the voices cheer me on. I saw myself resurfacing at the end of the race, in first place, and waving out to the audience members who was watching. Amongst the crowd members, my memory almost painted in the face of Finnick. But that must be a mistake, right? He won his games five years before me... but he was only fourteen. Is it possible that I never knew he was only a year older than me? Why had I never seen him in school?
My lungs started to burn, a lack of air causing them collapse upon themselves. Come on, Annie! I was underwater. I was going to die here, as one of the final two tributes, I can't sit here daydreaming about Finnick. I could hear the game makers once again, cheering "get a cannon ready" happy to have an end to their games.
The cannon wouldn't be mine.
I pushed off the tree with my feet, springing myself up through the water. I continued to swim upwards for a few extra seconds, my vision blurry and my head pounding, until my head resurfaced above the water. I was instantly gasping, coughing like the first time a wave overcame me as a young child at the beach. Right as I was trying to open my eyes, the water became choppy again, forcing me to stop treading water and swim forward. For as long as I've been a swimmer, I've been taught to swim with the current, instead of against it. Swimming against the current will make you struggle, which will tire you out faster. And so far I have not heard another cannon, which means Cicero was still here competing against me.
If I close my eyes, this is merely a swim competition. A competition I'm here to win. I hear my parents and Alex cheering me on from the stands. I hear my teammates on the other side of the pool, yelling and getting ready to jump in after me. I hear my coach shouting, his loud voice carrying over the vast emptiness of the swim center. And in the background, I hear another voice. A dull whisper that would be impossible to hear if I wasn't already listening for it. But I hear it nonetheless. And in his sweet, sugary voice, I hear the soft whisper of Finnick, "I believe in you, Annie."
I keep on swimming.
Swimming away from Cicero, away from the current, away from all the problems in the arena. As long as I keep swimming, I should be alright. I glance over my shoulder and from the corner of my eyes I can see the source of the water: the dam holding up the water behind the waterfall had come down, allowing all the pent up water behind it to flood the arena.
Of course that's where it came from! I'm glad that I chose to run away from the waterfall, instead of towards it, when I heard the cannon. The force of the water would've hit me ten times harder, and I might've fallen under the water, or hit my head harder, or not had Cicero to give me the briefest warning before the water overcame me.
I look behind me again, pausing to tread in the water for just a moment. Cicero's head hadn't resurfaced from under the waves yet, or at least, I couldn't see him, so he wasn't a threat. But, a cannon hadn't gone off yet either, which means that he wasn't dead.
I decided that continuing to swim might not be the best idea, especially as the tug on the water continued to get harder. So instead, I swam with the current towards the nearest tree, grabbing onto a branch that was just barely out of the water and heaving myself up onto it. I quickly took off my backpack, throwing it into the water below me. Despite helping me all of these games, there were two of us left, and nothing in that backpack was going to save me from Cicero. My knife had fallen on the ground when we tripped over one another, so even though I probably wouldn't use it, it wasn't here to help me.
Next, I took off my jacket and climbed to a slightly taller branch. I used the jacket to tie myself to the tree for the time being. The pull of the water was relatively strong, and I could see the water pulling small branches off of trees. Although I was certain the water wouldn't rise to my level, if it did, securing myself to the tree would be the best way to wait it out and let myself regain strength before I had to swim again. As I sat there on the branch, my mind flooded with memories of the games, of the people I lost, of the family back home I wanted so desperate to return to. Tears threatened to fall out of my eyes, but I closed them tightly, keeping them in. There was enough water in this water, without my tears to add to it.
As my eyes were closed, I felt the water starting to rise up my legs slightly. I surveyed the area, figuring what would be the best way to stay safe for the longest time before the water caught up to me again. I quickly untied myself from the sitting position and stood up on the tree, hugging the center of it like I did last night. I waited until the water was right below my stomach, freezing me slightly, to propel myself into it as if I was diving off of a board.
Underwater for only a few seconds, I was quickly shocked at how cold it was without my thermal jacket on. I looked under the water and saw blurry objects float past me. I saw branches, what looked like weapons from the cornucopia, dead animals, and a body float past. A rather large body, with a mop of black hair on top. Oh my god. It was Cicero.
I quickly resurfaced, gasping for air and frantically swimming away from his body, not caring that I was swimming against the current. I was breathing rapidly, my legs kicking against the current as I tried my hardest to get far away from Cicero's body. I guess the game makers got the idea and shot off the cannon, signaling that he was dead.
I heard an announcement over the top of the arena: "Congratulations to the winner of our 70th hunger games, Annie Cresta from district four!" A voice boomed, signaling that my struggles were over, I had won. I didn't care. I had to keep swimming. I had to get away. I had to get away from the body, from the water, from the memories.
It wasn't until I heard the whir of the hovercraft over my body that I stopped swimming, treading water until a small, nearly human like claw reaches out, bringing me out of the freezing water and to this new safety.
As the hovercraft slowly pulls me up, I try and control my breathing. I feel the adrenaline falling out of my body as I breathe in and out, my heart rate slowing down and my eyes closing painfully, forcing out the water that had stung them as I swam. I won.
I won.
There was nothing else to motivate me now.
They take me into the hovercraft, injecting me with a small needle: I don't even jerk back in fear. They congratulate me, and say something about how this medicine will help heal me: I don't even listen. Instead, I repeat the phrase in my head over and over, trying to focus on anything but the twenty-three tributes who had to die for me to live:
Water, my home. My kryptonite. When it saved my life, did it take it too?
Thank you for listening,
Annie