Sunshine - A Hunger Games Story

17| Sydney

Her face is displayed up in the sky after the capital's anthem.

We don't sleep. We haven't eaten in days. Our rations of water have diminished to none. All of us are devastated. But some show it less than others.

For example, I show my grief for my recently murdered friend very obviously. My eyelids are red and puffy, tear trails show on my face, and my hands tremble. Her blood is still staining my hands and face.

Do you know how hard it is to remove blood? I never did before this. It sneaks underneath your fingernails, in all the creases of your palm. The stuff even gets dry and crusty making it harder to wipe off. And if you try to wipe it off when it's wet, then all it does is smear.

There really is no purpose for blood outside of your body, but what would you expect.

A contrasting example would be Rhett. Rhett keeps his emotions to himself. With his neutral face and rigid posture, you can tell he is grieving. Understanding his emotions takes a second glance whereas my feelings are worn on my sleeve 24-7.

Sydney is trying to mimic her brother's way of coping, silent tears streaming down her face with the occasional hiccup.

Henri managed to fall asleep at one point. He woke up in a cold sweat and refused to talk about it, just as the sun was rising.

Today, we are hunting down the Careers.

Rhett has his trident, Sydney has Fa-... her sword, I have my sword, and Henri has a big stick to use as a staff.

This time, instead of letting 2-6-8 come to us, we are going to find them. They have to be somewhere around in the grass. That gives us a 3 mile wide by 5 mile long strip of land they must be in, inside of the grass area. They also know that we have more people then they do but we have less strength per person. The dipstick gang is still out there somewhere so 2-6-8 should still be weary of them. Plus, Herni's district partner is part of their group and I don't think Katy would kill her district partner.

With our newly developed plan, we head out towards the Careers. I walk ahead of everyone else, making a lot of noise and calling out for Rhett, Henri and Sydney. As if I am lost and looking for one of them.

The wind whistles through the yellow-green plants which also tickle my exposed arms. My hands are clenched against the dried blood covering my palms and my heart races as I yell.

As the wind blows the grass, it gives me a line of sight, straight into the brown eyes of the boy from 6. After a split second of staring into his eyes, I take off in the opposite direction. When I stop yelling and start running, my allies should know that the plan is working.

The 17 year old boy from district 6 is bigger and stronger than me, but I'm faster. I run past where my group is spread out. A short while longer, I hear a cannon.

Good. We got one of them.

I stop to catch my breath, hunching over with my hands on my knees. I know I should be feeling guilty about killing someone, but I can't help but feel relieved. One step closer to getting home and seeing my family. NO. No. I'm not going home. Henri is going home. I'm not going to see my family again.

"Sydney!?!" Rhett's yell cuts through my thoughts. Why is he yelling for Sydney? She's alright and waiting for the cannon that went off when you killed the district 6 boy. "SYDNEY!?!?" Is she okay? What's wrong? Did something not work? I start jogging to Rhett's position.

A high pitched howl sound from somewhere in the field, followed by two more. Are all three still alive? They can't be, right? Is the dipstick gang here?

My pace quickens. A hovercraft comes into view in the arena and reaches its crane down to scoop up a body... but not where I lead the district 6 boy.

I start sprinting to where the crane is.

Rhett lets out a yell of anguish. I see the body that is being raised up into the hovercraft. Platinum blonde hair reflects off the sunlight as it hangs off her limp head. Blood drips off her blood coated arm as it hands at an unnatural position off her abdomen.

Sydney.

"No," I whisper.

My stopped pace picks up to a sprint to get to either Rhett or Henri. Don't think of the dead girl. Please, don't. I run into Henri and wrap my arms tightly around him in a quick hug. Next, I run off, holding tight onto Henri's wrist, to find Rhett.

He's panting loudly with his hands tangled up in his messy blond hair, swaying on his feet. Tears spill from his red rimmed eyelids and his pupils aren't focusing and his whole body trembles. Sweat starts to dot his forehead.

I step up in front of him and try to calm him down before anything happens. "Rhett. Look at me. Look at me. Rhett!" I first place my hands on his shoulders to steady him, then cup his face to get his eyes to focus on me. Rhett's eyes slowly look into mine. I can clearly see the pain he's feeling.

Rhett's knees give out and he crashes to the ground, starting to cry as he hits the dirt. I crouch down next to him and rub his back. A pained sob escapes his mouth and it pulls on my heart, too much for me to bear. I wrap my arms around the boy, holding him upright and allowing him to cry into my shoulder and take his moment of weakness, god knows he deserves it. Sydney is dead.

15 deaths and 23 days later, the torture is still going on. Now, it's 3 against 3 against 3. And we have the disadvantage.