The Hunger Games: The Cry of Temperance

The Second Morning II

 Scarlett-Rose had no more tears to cry. There was nothing left in her system that she didn't already release, her eyes swollen and completely bloodshot from the lack of rest she had been getting.

She managed to huddle up in one of the ruined buildings, and then go outside towards the wastelands where she might have been given a better shot. Perhaps she'd find something like food or even water, but judging on the environment– she didn't think she would get very far as she continued to look. The cracked ground made visible sign of dehydration, meaning that they very well might have been in a desert looking for an oasis. She thought of going back to the cornucopia and looking to see if there was any other supplies out there, but going out there where everyone had died did not seem like a very good idea.

She kept to herself.

As she continued to trek down the tumultuous path, all she thought of was home. Even if home wasn't as pretty, she liked it better than being here. Hell, she liked being anywhere better than here.

She just wished she could go home.

It's so much more different when you see people die in front of you instead of seeing it on a screen. It's just as grisly, but the experience– everything you see in front of you is horrible, you freeze up, you watch, and all you can see is the release of blood indicative of someone's end.

She didn't know if she was more upset by the fact that she could die or the fact that the people she thought she could trust did die. And even Aera– she died helping her, and she suffered the cost for it.

She couldn't have imagined how it must have felt for her to run across her platform across to her, only to be betrayed by your district partner. But even then, she must have hit the ground too quick to even process the fact that John-Paul had even done that to begin with.

At least, the Games granted her that mercy. The unknowing of who her culprit was, maybe it's better that way.

But she shouldn't have had to die either way. She was so young, and she tried to get out of the Games from the beginning. How could the Games punish them?

Even with as much mercy as they could have given them, why would we even need it if the Games hadn't punished us to begin with?

She was so tired from all of it. But she knew that she couldn't stop now, when the finish line was so close. Even if they hadn't even reached past the halfway mark, it was still better than the initial amount of people who had still been here.

It was grim, of course. But John-Paul was right. Only one of them gets out, and she had to focus on herself.

But that doesn't mean she wants to speed up the process for anyone.

She only wants to get out of here, she doesn't want to kill anyone or even participate in these Games. She couldn't bring herself to kill, as much as the Capitol wanted to transform her into a killing machine, she didn't have it in her to do so.

Sixteen tributes left. Eight cannons.

She wondered who was left.

She wondered where Nucleo was, despite him barely deserving any recognition. She couldn't help but wonder where he had wandered off to.

Exavier and Kaia were already wide awake, and protected underneath the radiating sun as two parachutes had completely covered the both of their skin. Two sponsors had been offered to them, silver cores had opened up, the tops taken off as they looked in– two pieces of cheese, though they couldn't determine what they were. Their hands were already on their singular pieces as they started to taking them piece by piece, sticking them into their mouths as they chewed slowly.