Primrose Mellark

Chapter Seventeen

   Still... ever so still, with my bow poised ahead of me, the arrow pointing out. Just stay still, would you?

   I let go of the arrow. With a satisfying thump, it lodges itself into a rabbit's chest. I run forward and check to make sure it's dead. The arrow was deep inside the poor rabbit, and I take it out. It was indeed dead. A few days passed since I first tried to hunt. This was my second catch. My first was a bird that took a hard wound in the body, making there hardly anything left of it. 

   I am in the Meadow right now. I look around. It's silent as a fox's den, except for the occasional tweet or maybe a deer call. I sling my bow over my shoulder and take the rabbit by the ears, and start walking towards the lake.

   Something makes me stop. At first I think I'm being watched. I turn my head towards the sound. I thought I heard a human's voice. No, not a voice. More like a whisper. I whip my head back and forth, scanning the Meadow, and the line of the trees. Nothing unusual. I must be hearing things. Or maybe the poachers are back to hunt here. But that wasn't possible. They said they aren't coming back to this "dump" anytime soon. The hunting's not good enough for them.

   I shrug and turn back. I was hearing nothing, I'm sure. I walk away into the forest with the rabbit in my hands, but my ears alert.

   I get to my cave and I start cooking it immediately. I hadn't had fresh meat in a while, and I'm hungry for lunch. I cook the hind leg over the fire with a stick. I rotate it patiently every few moments. When I think it's fully cooked, I raise it up to my mouth and take a bite.

   Delicious.

   I eat the rest of the rabbit in hungry bites. My hunger is satisfied for the moment, so I don't put anymore wood or anything in the fire. I see that I'm running out of supplies. 

   I leave my bow and crawl out of my cave. I walk over to the grass and pick up the dead stuff. I am on my knees and my back facing the lake. Today is a bit dark. Clouds constantly pass over the sun, and I think, rain. I hurry up and I rush over to the forest. I pick up all the good dry branches I can carry right before I feel the first drop of rain. I carry my bundle to my cave and shut the door. I hadn't been in this cave before with rain. Hopefully no water comes in and makes my home a wet muddy mess.

   I listen as the rain becomes harder, beating against the ground. I start to make the fire again. It wasn't hard, because the embers were still lit. I build it into a large fire, using a minimum amount of firewood, careful not to use it all.

   There was something peculiar about the Meadow earlier. There was something out there. I know there was. But what?

   Or who?

   I turn my attention back to the fire. I raise my hands above it to warm them. I wish I had something to read. Then I remembered that I did pack something. But it wasn't necessarily a book to read, though. But it would help me out here, in the woods. I reach into the jumble in the big box. I left it in here, in fear that it might get ruined. I carefully set the book on top of my lap, and I stare down at it. Slowly, I turn the page.

   It's my mother's plant book. She said she had it in her family since before she was born. It was her father's. He was the first one to start making this. My grandpa, who was killed in a mine explosion before I was even born, before I met him.

  I look at a page with a light colored fuzzy painting on it. Mint- edible and safe to cook in tea. Sage- safe to put over food to make some taste. I flip through the pages. Some of these drawings my papa did, some of them my father. On some pages, I can tell my mother wrote the words, because her penmanship.

    These plants could really help me, in finding more food to eat. Maybe I can boil some water and make tea, instead of plain water. I wish I would've brought some sugar with me, but mom packed all it up when they left. Oh well. I'll survive.

   I start to get tired after listening to the rain, and gazing at the fire. I lay down without my blanket and fluff my pillow. I lay my head down and brush the hair out of my eyes. I close my eyes and sigh, and fall asleep with one last thought. I wish someone were here to share the peacefulness of this day, and in this cave.

   "NO!" I scream. I slam into  the ground, my face now covered in mud. I slip around until I'm on my feet again. "Come back!" I chase the car that runs out of sight, over into the forest. I run after it like it's my life, but I only get slower as it goes farther away.

   I stare after it in dismay, then I collapse into the mud again. I can feel it seeping around, and I look up in horror. I am sinking, into the mud. Sinking? 

   I struggle to get free of the terrible sticky mess, but I am trapped. "Help me! Please-" I am cut off as my mouth goes under, leaving me deep into the mud. Silence. Darkness. It's all I feel as I am dragged under.

   I'm in a meadow... I look around wildly. Nothing. Wind rises from the trees. It's almost peaceful. 

   I look down. I gasp and stumble backwards. Wet, sticky liquid laps at my boots, rising higher. It's a dark, dark red. I run away as it rises higher and higher. I grab a branch from a nearby tree and pull myself up into the leavy green maple. I can see the ground. It's blood everywhere, like a flood. Birds stop singing, and silence rises, threatening to deafen me with the complete noiseless world.

   Suddenly the forest lights fire. Dark smoke rises from the burning forest. I stare and let out a howling scream as the flame comes rapidly toward me, riding on the sea of blood like it was gasoline...

   I sit up and gasp. I choke, and cover my mouth. Smoke is rising from the fire, hot smoke, like in my dream. I am back inside my cave, my wonderful, safe cave. I reach and let out the smoke by opening the door, and closing it again after a moment. It's still raining, but darker out. I crawl back to my little bed and face the glowing fire. Branches pop from the moisture escaping. I feed it more branches from my pile. I feet a stabbing pain and look down at my hands. They have dry blood on them. Was it from collecting branches, or from the dream?

   My thoughts flicker to my dream. Did I really want to go after the car? Didn't I like it here? I think I do. It's peaceful.

   And lonely, a voice whispers in the back of my thoughts. What about my meadow dream? What was the reason for that?

   It was a bit lonely, I have to admit. But I think to myself, I wanted this, and I have to go through with it. I don't know why I'm complaining. I have everything I need to survive. What else could I possbily want?

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hey guys, sorry this chapter's so SHORT!!! and it took me a long time to write, in which i apologize. but i will be updating more... interesting things in the next one. haha thank u for readin this!

-katniss_on_fire13