Writer Games: Amnesia

Semifinals - Music to My Ears - Solar Dedisco

That night, the hospital was colder than it had ever been before. Solar could remember the time when he heard footsteps echoing through it's endless corridors whenever he bothered to listen, but now there was nothing but silence. The echoes of past screams seemed to reside in the air. Death still haunted the hallways, ready to pounce.

Even when locked within the confines of a nightmare, Solar could tell that everyone throughout Panem would be watching the Games to make sure they caught the last few strains of fighting before a Victor was finally crowned. Everywhere, people would be waiting and watching for the last few deaths. They all held a blood lust that refused to be sated until the end came.

Solar was finally alone; he hated it. There was no alliance watching him as he slept, keeping him safe so that he could finally relax and remember where he was. Instead, he had no choice but to keep his eyes open. He had to be ready to run at any moment, even as the hospital around him grew dark and the final strains of light faded away. He had never been ready for this, simply dreaming of happy endings whenever he was gifted with a brief break from his usual nightmares.

He refused to give in; he could tell that those watching would be waiting for him to break down.

As if the torture of the Games was not enough entertainment for those in the Capitol, Solar had finally remembered who the boy was. The child had followed him, haunting his mind and his memories until Solar realised who the face belonged to: his brother. The small boy was his own family, someone he loved and cherished. All of those times he had thought he had seen him die, the pain could easily have been real. Death was Solar's main enemy, whether it be the death of him or the death of his family.

If he died that night, he would never be able to tell his brother how much he loved him.

Despite the cold breeze and the overwhelming scent of stale blood, Solar kept his wits about him. He was ready to run at the slightest noise, prepared to fight if that was what it came down to. Even if he had to sleep, he would attempt to always keep his eyes open. He was certain he was not prepared for this. He could still see himself as a child, waging battles with wooden swords and sticks rather than real blades, real blood and all too real death. However, the ending of the Games was so close that he would finally allow himself to kill. This was the final hurdle, and he was not prepared to fall when he was so close to going home.

He was in the arena; it was far too late to change that now. The only option he had was to wait, staying two steps ahead and on guard. He had learnt so much within the hospitals confines, each lesson teaching him one more thing about death and torture. Solar was certain that no one expected him to make it this far, but here he was. He was not going to let the chance go.

The Games were now a showdown.

There was nobody to save him now. His alliance was disbanded, his friends and family still at home in District Five. They would be watching the television screen with a halted heartbeat, the idea of Solar coming home so close and, yet, still so far. Solar, however, was certain that he had something they were not expecting. He had one quality that the other tributes might have lacked.

He had determination, and he had a reason to fight.

Even as he sat shivering in a dark hospital corridor, blood surrounding him, he could picture his brother watching him fight. Solar remembered holding him for the first time, a memory that he had missed so much that his whole body flooded with warmth at the mere thought. Solar kept his heartbeat steady by thinking of home.

His aim was locked onto Victor, and he would not let it falter. He had to go home. The alternative was death, and Solar had gone too far to accept that.

Everyone was waiting for him to cry, to breakdown and let his weaknesses show. By returning the memories that the Game-Makers had so cruelly taken away, tributes were finally again ruled by emotions and would make rash decisions. However, Solar refused to let the people who had doubted him see the fallout of his own mind. His memory had always been his strongest asset. Why should it fail him now?

Most tributes would try to forget, but Solar prided himself on being able to remember.