THE BALLAD REBORN | Hunger Games

SEVEN

Nightfall in the arena crept up fast. The once glowing sky dimmed into shadows, and the comforting sound of birds was now replaced with the eerie silence of a forest holding its breath.

I was sitting under a large oak tree, the dampness of my clothes from the earlier fight still clinging to me. The sponsor gifts lay between Tierra and me: strawberries, bread, dried meat, and several bottles of fresh water. Haymitch had left me a cryptic message:

"Enjoy it while it lasts. People don't send gifts like this without a reason."

I knew what he was getting at. There was no way I was suddenly their favorite, especially with the amount of food and supplies they'd sent. The Capitol sponsors were intrigued, but it wasn't in a good way. They saw something. Maybe they enjoyed the spectacle of me drowning Clara in the lake. Maybe they liked seeing a good girl like me—someone who wasn't supposed to win—get her hands dirty.

Whatever the reason, I couldn't afford to waste these supplies. Tierra eyed the bread with hesitation, her stomach growling softly. I caught her glance and smirked, nudging the basket toward her.

"Here, eat," I said. "You need it more than me."

She looked up at me, her expression grateful yet torn.

I shook my head, "We're partners, Tierra. What's the point of having all this food if it's just me? Besides, I'm not really hungry."

It was a half-lie. My stomach was a knot, and I wasn't sure if it was from the adrenaline still coursing through me or the thought of taking another life. Either way, food wasn't what I needed right now.

As Tierra tore into the bread, I sat back, scanning the tree line. The silence was unsettling, too calm. In the Hunger Games, quiet never lasted long.

Suddenly, a branch snapped. I whipped my head around, my heart leaping into my throat. Through the shadows, I saw movement—fast and deliberate. My pulse quickened as I realized what was happening: we were being hunted.

"Get up," I hissed at Tierra, who dropped the bread, her eyes wide with alarm.

In an instant, a figure charged out of the trees. It was one of the Careers—a boy from District 3. But before I could react, another figure lunged at us from behind—a girl. The District 4 tribute.

Tierra screamed as the boy tackled her to the ground. I didn't have time to think. I lunged for the knife strapped to my waist, my grip slippery from the sweat on my palms. The girl from District 5 was on me in seconds, her eyes wild as she swung a makeshift spear in my direction.

I dodged her first strike but barely. My breath came out in ragged bursts as I ducked and sidestepped, her spear missing me by inches. I was fast, but she was brutal, her strikes getting closer with each passing second.

Adrenaline surged through me. The world blurred around the edges as I charged forward, slamming into her with all my weight. The impact sent us both sprawling onto the hard, uneven ground. We grappled, rolling through dirt and fallen leaves, her hands grabbing at my wrists, trying to knock the knife from my grip.

A shrill scream echoed behind us—Tierra's voice, desperate and terrified.

I couldn't let her die.

Fueled by desperation, I broke free from the girl's grasp, my knife raised high. I didn't have time to think. I just acted. The blade came down hard, sinking deep into her chest. Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening in a silent scream as blood poured from the wound.

For a moment, everything stopped. The world went quiet. Her hand reached out toward me, as if to grab something, but there was nothing left for her to hold onto. I felt the life drain from her in seconds, her body going limp beneath me.