Silence [The Hunger Games]

Chapter Thirty-Two

Sleep evaded me that night, not for the first time. I knew Logan was awake too, but I didn’t dare speak to him. I blamed myself entirely for Clementia’s death. Had it not been me who suggested that we attack the Career’s? Even if Minerva did betray us to them, I allowed it to happen. And worse still, she’d got away with it.

 I tossed to my other side, hoping to find solace in the warm body of Logan, but with no prevail. The unspoken horrors of the days in the arena hung between us like death itself, and though he was right beside me, Logan was miles away in spirit. It had broken him. I was already broken, but seeing Logan in emotional agony was killing me. I longed to tell him that it would be okay, but of course, it would be a lie. We only had days left before the end. Ten tributes left.

 How do you comfort someone awaiting death?

 A while later I heard the faint snores of Logan. I felt his breathing heavy against my body, his back pressed into my chest. He had lost weight since the Games began, and as I traced my finger over his spine, I guessed it was more prominent than it had ever been in District 10. He shivered under my touch and shifted in the sleeping bag. I decided he was still beautiful. What would it be like for him if he won, I wondered. I was sure that he would be showered with praise, become one of those victors that everyone in the Capitol would love. I imagined him arriving home at our District, the cheers of the crowds making him smile in pride. At the thought that nothing could ever hurt him again. He’d move into a house in the Victors Village, perhaps next door to Drew. Maybe he’d marry a girl from one of the richer families, a blonde, I suspected, with blue eyes like blue pools and a smile that would melt his heart.

 But could he live with the pain? I thought perhaps not. Would he go crazy, lose it all? Slowly, the daydream changed dramatically. Images of Logan in intense pain as he tried to deal with the horrors of the arena flashed into my mind, making me shiver. Perhaps he would turn to drink, to the special Capitol drugs that could take away the pain. The wife faded out the picture, the promise of a happy life. No matter whether he lived or died, the outcomes weren’t good for Logan. Or me.

 Did I really want to survive? Something inside me told me that survival was all that was important. That I should do anything to achieve it. But my heart told me that I had lost everything. My sanity. My best friends. The grasp on reality I once had.  And I couldn’t get them back.

 Sleep came eventually, and when I woke, Logan was already packing our things. We couldn’t stay where we were. We’d found a small cave to rest the night, but the ceiling was so low that I almost bumped my head as I crawled out to join him. It was strangely quiet without Minerva’s moaning and sarcastic comments, and the sound of Clementia laughing. Not that she had had much to laugh about since Kai’s death. I had to remind myself that it was only several days since our sending off for Kai. So much had happened in a short period of time. And yet it was far from over.

 “We’re almost out of food,” Logan commented drily with little emotion present in his voice as we ate. He was right though. We had a rabbit’s leg and one of the birds, but it wasn’t enough.

 “I can hunt if you want to stay here,” Logan offered.

 “Actually, I think I’ll take a look at the Career camp. See if they’ve gone back.”

 “OK. Be careful then.”

 I leaned over to give him a hug, but his attention was already drawn back to his food. I assumed he was being cold because he was upset about Clementia.

 Or angry with me.

 So I slung a rucksack over my shoulder and headed back to the Career camp. The sun was rising over the horizon, and the birds sang their morning song. I remembered one morning at the Training Centre how Clementia commented on the beauty of birdsong.