The rope snaps up, leaving me about 15 feet above the ground. I only hesitate for a moment before dropping to the ground, landing with a loud thud and a gasp. I pull myself up and flex my now twisted ankle.
Get out. Get out. What the hell did she mean by that? I'm trapped by miles of woodland and mountains, there's only so far out I can go. I get that she doesn't want me running towards the fire; I guess my best bet is to get to the outskirts of the Arena.
I strike out into the field, keeping my head down and my hand on my sword hilt. I don't bother to pick up my bag, I know how this works. These Games are going to be over soon. Tonight.
With the wind behind me and no weight on my back, the journey moves quickly. The Cornucopia gets smaller and smaller behind me, fading into a tiny yellow speck in the distance. The trees move outwards and away from me until the only landmark in sight is the river and the orange glow far behind me. As I move away from the woodland, the wind lessens and lessens until it's only a breeze. I don't think I've ever felt more lonely. I can't help but think that I'm walking into some Gamemaker's trap.
After at least a couple hours of walking, I finally reach a rock. It's not huge, but I climb up onto it and I find a small crevice that warms me slightly. Maybe I should've brought my pack. Looking back towards the now far-gone woodland, I can see the fire growing, but I'm not worried. Out here, there's nothing to burn for several kilometres. With the moon above me, I curl up on my rock to sleep.
*******************************
When I wake up, the moon is still in the sky. The whole world is wrapped in stillness, but immediately I know something's wrong. I can just feel it. I pull myself out of my crevice, and stand up straight. The fire is burning brighter than ever, but Parox and Marvel are nowhere in sight. I slide down onto the frosty ground, glancing around me. The still air seems to move only to make way for me. I'm not staying here. I turn away from the blaze and walk towards the river. It's not far now, but since the Gamemakers haven't turned me around I assume that I won't be alone for long.
Even as I walk, safe in the knowledge of the fact that I am alone, I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched. Not by the cameras, but by someone or something. I grip the hilt of my sword as I slow my pace to an easy stroll. Well, a stroll at least. I'm feeling anything but easy at this point.
"Hello?" I call at last.
"Finally being polite are we?" I whip around- and scream.
"Well, that isn't what I was expecting," says Laurel. "I've been trying to get your attention for ages, the least you could do is ask me how I am." She fingers a huge sword at her side.
"You- you can't be here," I stutter between breaths. "Your face was... you're dead. You died two days ago." My eyes are fixed on the huge blisters that cover her scalp.
"Well, things never work out the way we plan them, do they?" Laurel draws the sword, examining the blade. After a moment she brings her hand down to her side and takes a step towards me. "You weren't supposed to survive that day. Maybe it'll be more fun if you don't survive this one instead?"
I step backwards, shaking my head violently. I can feel tears building up. "No... no, you're dead, you’re out, you lost. You can't come back, that's against the rules!"
"Don't you get it, Lilia?" Laurel smirks. "There aren't any rules here." She lifts her sword. "Everyone else gets it."
"What?" I say, gulping.
"That sounds about right." Satin walks out from behind another rock, followed by Jupiro and... District 11. Edraw.
I walk backwards, tears falling down my face. "No, you aren't here. I'm dreaming, that's it!" I shout. "It's just a dream, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming."

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Flooding Panem: The Hunger Games
FanfictionAs of 21/04/2013, this story is finished! I'm just editing it, which is why it's marked as in progress. ______________________________ A story set 18 years after the last book in the Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins. Suppose the Rebellion had...