The First Quarter Quell: A 'The Hunger Games' Spin-Off

A Reminder

TW: Mention of Domestic Violence

    "I wonder who that was," Jay says.
    Another cannon went off just a moment ago. I guess there are only 12 tributes left, which is a bit nerve-wracking. "I guess we'll find out tonight," I assure him.
    The three of us have been looking for food all day. Right now, it just seems pointless. Do the gamemakers not give us food? Or are we forced to eat squirrels (that's disgusting)? They can't tell us to fight for our survival and not provide enough food. It's like they want us to starve to death, which is the most boring way to die in here.
    Like they, either the game makers or the squirrels, could read my mind, a couple of squirrels scurry past us.
    "Get them!" Joi shouts, and Jay and I stand up. "Throw your spear, Jay," she adds.
    He launches it at the first squirrel, the closest one, and misses. Without saying another word, he retrieves his spear and tries again. The head pierces through the squirrel's body, and it goes limp. The second squirrel, being scared and confused, runs towards Joi, who has her axe beside her.
    I yell, "Joi!" But she's already swinging it down on the rodent.
    "Dinner time!" she quietly shouts. I give her a small nod and smirk, acknowledging her good job.
    After we cook the squirrels over a tiny fire, which Joi apparently knows how to make, we portion the two squirrels so they're equally distributed between the three of us. They're surprisingly not bad tasting, kind of like chicken, but that could just be my mind tricking me.
    "So, how's it like in your districts?" Joi asks as she shifts her eyes between the two of us.
    I stay quiet. I don't want them to know my story. They don't need to.
    "Well..." he hesitates, "I guess it's like how a lot of kids live. Occasionally, someone gets in trouble for something, and there are consequences." My eyes flicker upwards. I guess he's not afraid to share his, though. "One time, a boy in my class cheated, and he was punished. I can't imagine how, and I never wanted to find out, but I heard it wasn't pleasant."
    'Wasn't pleasant?'  What's not pleasant is when your entire household is publicly executed because you hit some girl at school. Some privileged little girl, whose dad knew the mayor, who called your family crazy. Because your dad was an alcoholic—he'd get his hands on liquor the very second that he could, any second—and your mom was too scared to do anything about it because she was too weak and too afraid. Because he would hit her, and he would hit you and your brother too. Which almost forced you to be violent. Which is why you hit that idiotic girl. But your brother was the one who died; she didn't. Your brother who was innocent; who wouldn't hurt a fly. God! I had to watch him die! I had to watch them all die! The mayor forced me to watch all of them be shot at once. He didn't even put a bag over their heads. I had to watch as they were all screaming in their different, distinguished tones. My brother: he was scared, he wanted my help. He called my name more times than I could count, more times than I heard. But my dad was the opposite. He hated me, he always had. He wanted me up there with them, and so did I. And my mom... she was hysterically crying. Nothing like I hadn't seen before. Nothing new. And yet, I still cried, I cried for all three of them. All because I laid a hand on that stupid girl. That stupid... stupid girl. I hate that girl just like I hate myself. Just like I've always hated myself.
    "Koko?" someone calls. I look up from the ground, confused. Joi, with her brown puppy-dog eyes, looks back up at me. "You spaced out for a long minute there," she continues. I don't reply.
    A new voice joins in, Jays. "Are you okay?" Again, I don't respond, I just look at him.
    "Jay was just saying how... uh," she looks at him like she's forbbiden from saying the words that are about to come out of her mouth.
    He continues for her, "My dad passed away when I was young. It wasn't anything crazy. He just got sick," he says. I nod, thinking about my family, my brother, to be exact. "What about you?" he asks, directing it to me.
    "Oh, same," and that's all I say.    "Joi?" Jay now directs the same question at her, giving me an unsure look as he does so.
    "Well, I have two sisters, one who's a year younger than I am and one who was just born last year, plus my parents. And they're all alive and well, or at least they were when I left," she says.
    Congrats.
    "But when I was younger, peacekeepers ransacked my district right before one of the reapings. I was too young, at the time, to be reaped, but you know how everyone watches. I guess the Capitol thought there was a rebel in our district. I don't think there was, but they never found anything to prove it anyway. It was scary, though. It's because of them that I don't trust people easily."
    That's it? That's why you have trouble with trust. I had to watch my family die! And then I was thrown into several alternative homes. Every single one of them hated me. My last one, right before I got put in this game, cheered me on stage when I was reaped. Cheered! Nobody in my district liked me. They didn't even put up the three fingers. There were no raised hands in that crowd. They've been scared of me ever since I hit that girl. Some kid from school went so far as starting a rumor about me, that I wanted my family dead, and that's why I did it. How I knew her father was buddy-buddy with the mayor, and that's how I 'chose my victim.' But maybe, truthfully, I did want my alcoholic of a dad gone, and maybe I could've been better off without my helpless mom, but my brother? My best friend? Why would I ever choose to hurt him? I can't trust anyone, and I never have. The only person I've been able to trust since then is Jay, but that could just as easily turn out to be a bad thing, too.
    "Koko!" I faintly hear Joi whisper. "Come on!" she does it again, and I'm still disoriented from the situation. She takes my arm and pulls me forward.
    Our fire's been put out. What's going on? I ask myself.
    "What's going on?" I finally say out loud.
    "We heard some rustling over that way," Jay responds as he bops his head toward the direction he's referring to; the opposite direction we came.
    "Who??" I ask, frightened. 
    "I don't think we need to find out," he says.
    Jay drags me towards the beach again. Why would we go this way? In the open?
    I yank myself from his arm. He didn't have a tight grip on me regardless. 
    "What are you doing, Koko? Let's go!"
    I stand there, looking at him, remembering my brother and even Peyton. How I watched them
both die, doing nothing to prevent it. "I can't," I answer.
    Before he can react, I turn back towards our site, and Joi follows behind me. "Hold on. I'm doing this with you," she says. I look to my right, unsure if she should be coming, but it couldn't hurt, right?
    I look around the site. It's still empty. No one's here. Joi's behind me, crunching leaves beneath her shoes with every step she takes. Out of the corner of my eye, a figure runs behind one of the trees only a few feet away from us.
    "Joi," I get her attention, pointing at that tree.
    She raises her cleaver, but it does no good. The person's already hidden behind the truck. I take small steps towards them, watching for any sudden movements. And then a twig breaks beneath my foot, stopping me out of fear.
    The person behind the tree brings out their arm, holding a... oh. An axe flies at my head, and I jump to the right. "DUCK!" I yell for Joi.
    I manage to dodge it, but a grunt behind me tells me someone else didn't. I spin around, ignoring the person behind the tree. Joi's on the ground, with an axe lodged into her chest, and Jay's standing behind her with almost a blank expression. "Joi!" my voice cracks as I yell. "Joi, you're gonna be okay, okay?" My eyes fill up with water. The cannon hasn't gone off yet, she's still alive, but we all know she's not going to be for very long. "I'm going after that tribute," I announce. "You stay here with her." I feel a tear start to form.
    "What?" Jay finally speaks. "You can't, Joi's dying. Koko, they're gone."
     I shake my head, "No, I'm sure I saw a bandage on their shoulder. A large one. They couldn't have gotten very far," I pause. "And I can't let this happen again."
    I know that confuses him, maybe even Joi if she's listening, but it doesn't matter. I need to get that tribute, I'm not letting someone get away with this for the third time. I glance at the ground and then back up at Jay, who seems to be out of words. Without saying anything else, I begin to run. I'm coming for you.

    I make my way past tree after tree, searching for the tribute, but I find nothing every time. They couldn't have gotten far, they just couldn't. Every time I hear a rustle, it's just a squirrel. A squirrel... like the two the three of us split just minutes ago. And now Joi's dying because of me, just like my brother.
    I stop in my tracks, and she does, too. There you are, I think to myself. It's a girl, that specific girl, the one Jay mentioned, whose best friend died in last year's games. Ali, I think it was. Why would she target us out of the blue like that? Why would she kill Joi? I raise my sickle to my side and prepare for sudden movement, but there is none. It's like she's paralyzed or simply incapable.
    "Hey!" I shout, and she turns her head to her left to listen. "Why stop at one tribute?" I ask angrily, but there's no answer. Rage continues to build up inside me. "First, you kill Joi, and now you can't even speak? How convenient," I tell her.
    With that, she responds, "Yes."
    I scoff, a small chuckle coming out. Who do you think you are? Really. You're no different than that girl, but I'm not like how I was. I will beat her... you... this time. I will win.
    I grip my sickle tighter. She doesn't take more than a second to turn around with a second weapon. She's already lost one: the one stuck in Joi's chest. It's a sword, a long serrated sword, the opposite of mine.
    She smiles and lifts her weapon, too. What are you smiling for you psychopath? She charges at me and swings her sword like she's done this before. No, she has. That's how she got the bandage. Well, the bandage was probably a gift from a sponsor, but the injury... I wonder how that came to be. I wonder how bad it is. Maybe I can use it to my advantage.
    Instead of standing helplessly, I raise my sickle to block her. Though I flinch, it works. She's not the only one who's done this before. I start to gain more confidence, quickly moving my sickle in a downward motion toward her leg, and I hit it. The blade cuts deep into her right thigh, and blood starts to pour from the wound. She stumbles backward but doesn't hit the ground. 
    An image of the girl runs through my mind, the one I hit. I remember how my hand felt when it hit her cheek and how she said she couldn't see—kind of like when I hit Jay. How she cried for a teacher, and what seemed like five came running out of their rooms, along with probably one hundred of our classmates. And my brother, like Joi and Peyton, who I couldn't save from someone like her; someone like Ali and Levi.
    She's already losing, with her previously injured shoulder and now her wounded leg. I swing only one more time, hitting her chest, just like she did Joi with that axe. Ali's cannon booms. Tears are running down my face now. I did it. Only hers went off, so Joi still hasn't gone?
    I run back to the site as fast as I can, leaving Ali and her sword behind. She has nothing I need. I'm almost there when I hear him, Jay, he's screaming something. I start to run faster until I can make the words out.
    "Hannah! Hannah!" he yells between short breaks to hyperventilate. He's crying.
    How has she not died? Or better yet, why isn't she getting sponsors? If Ali could get one, we should be able to get something. Unless the wounds are too severe. They're not. The Capitol must have something, they have to.
    I arrive at the camp, and there's still no sound of a cannon, but Joi's unconscious.
    "Koko! Oh, thank god. I thought it was you who..." he stops, but I know what he means.
    I kneel next to Joi and rest my hand on hers. Goodnight. I say to myself as her cannon finally echoes around the arena.

✶✶✶

    We've left the area, a hovercraft has probably picked up Ali and Joi, and the game makers have projected the new deaths. Other than the two we already know about, there was only one more: Max Lavigne, District 7. So far, we've traveled further left from the camp and are still a ways away from the beach. We're lucky not to have run into another tribute yet, but who knows what the game makers could do if they get bored.

10 Tributes Remain