Innocent Girl - A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 14: The Last Days

A/N: Oop... went from ranked second to nearly last in a week...

Now with no goal except to stay alive, I aimlessly wander around the arena. Maybe I'm going back towards the Cornucopia; maybe I'm heading back to the mountain. At this point, I neither know nor care.
One thing I do know though, is who's left. Though I don't have a knife with me to carve the names of who's dead, I think I should be able to remember just fine. Brilliant, Valerie, the boy from 3, Dion, the big guy, from 6, the boy from 9, the boy from 10 and the girl from 11, Apple. And me.
But the thing I'm more upset about is that I left the carving of a cedar tree with Blossom.

"Almond... If you make it out of here... Could you take it and give it to my siblings? Please?"
"I will. I promise." A small, sad smile crosses over her face.

A promise, I made, that I'll never be able to fufill. A promise I broke.
No less, to someone who I barely knew and gave me everything I need to survive.
And it was the only thing she asked of me.

Hours later, a single cannon rings out. Down to seven now. At this point, I'm not really sure if I want people to die quicker, or slower. Quicker means that it's over and done with quicker, but slower means more time to think. And stay alive. But after two weeks now, game makers are surely getting restless.
At night, the night shows Apple, from 11. I stare at the sky a bit longer, before I try my best to get in a comfortable position in my tree to sleep.
The next morning follows as the same. I hear another cannon, and run into the bunny mutts again. One manages to nip me in the same place as last time, reopening the scabbed up wound. But this time, I don't have the first aid pack anymore. So I grit my teeth and continue limping along. That night, the face shown in the sky is Osmo's, from 3.
Halfway through the sixteenth day, a voice booms out into the arena.
"Attention, tributes. Congratulations for making it this far! As you all know, or should," the head gamemaker, Lucius, pauses to laugh at his own 'joke', "there are now six of you remaining. Six, after a grueling fifteen days! And... in the cold arena, it's hard to find food, isn't it?" I groan, knowing where this is going.
"So we'll be calling a feast. But unlike previous ones, it will be compulsory to attend! Isn't that exciting?" I roll my eyes.
"If you fail to attend, you will certainly die a... painful death, to say the least. It would be in your best interests to attend. The feast will commence tommorow, at noon, at the Cornucopia. Better hope you all make it in time! The moment it's noon, anyone not at the Cornucopia will have no more chances. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favour!"
Of course they had to make it compulsory. I stare mindlessly off into the distance, my hope of getting out diminishing by the second.
Tommorow, people will die.
Tommorow, might be the last day of the 94th Hunger Games.
Tommorow, I might die.
Or I'll come out of here alive.

I wake up the next morning before the sun has rised. I had concluded I was relatively close to the Cornucopia, but still went in the general direction to ensure I made it there in time. If I had been back in district twelve, watching this, I would have just told myself that I would just let myself die. But Julien would tell me otherwise.
"Don't go down without a fight," he would have told me. If I let myself die, he would be devastated. So with him in thought, I resolved to go to the feast.
About two hours before noon, I reach the outskirts of the Cornucopia. Only thing is, there's no where to hide except the actual Cornucopia. I would stand no chance against any of the other tributes without a hiding spot. My best chance is to wait until after noon, and sneak out while the other tributes fight.
"In my games, there was a feast. And there was a really smart girl; she hid in the Cornucopia, something no one else thought of."
The memory comes to me suddenly, as I remember asking Katniss about her games. I could do the same. Checking for other tributes, I make my way to the Cornucopia, quickly and quietly. As soon as I'm inside the large, golden horn, I sigh in relief. But then I hear a voice.
"12?" I jump, and quickly load my bow, scanning the darkness frantically. But I can't see anyone. Then the figure comes out from the darkness.
"Had the same idea as me?" They say. I point the bow straight at them, and they hold up their hands as a sign of no harm.
"Woah, woah. Relax. I don't want to kill you."
"9?" I ask, because I can't think of any other tribute that wouldn't kill me on the spot. District 9 aren't exactly known to be ruthless killers. I suppose that 10 could count, but with them slaughtering livestock every day, they're not usually very hesitant. Or merciful. Well, I suppose, unless Dalton had gotten his hands on a weapon, he wouldn't kill me either. And plus, this person has a particular accent; one Dalton hadn't had.
"Yah. Ceres Alford. Almond, right?" I nod, still eyeing him warily.
"With that bow pointing at me, I find it incredibly hard to trust you, child," he continues.
"I'm no more a child then you are." Ceres snorts.
"Really? What if I told you I was seventeen?"
"Well, I've made it this far, haven't I?" I retort. But I lower the bow anyways, feeling surprisingly at ease with this boy. I peak outside the Cornucopia.
"How long do ya think 'till noon?" Ceres asks. With a noticable accent, I also note.
"An hour and a half or so. What're you gonna do when the feast starts?"
"I dunno, my thought process coming here was to get the hell outta here as soon as the feast starts. Ya'know, so that I don't die by the hands of the gamemakers."
"Smart."
"What were you gonna do?"
"Not sure. Same as you, I guess." We wait there for the next hour or so, occasionally talking but mostly staying quiet. And then a voice booms out into the arena once again.
"Tributes! Tributes, listen up. You have one more minute to get to the Cornucopia before the feast will begin. Anyone not in the immediant  area, which, is, no further than the pedastals for your information, when the minute is up, you all know what happens!" I roll my eyes at the gleeful tone of the voice. "Look, we're approaching the end of the minute! How exciting! 10... 9... 8... 7.... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."
"Let the feast, begin!"