The Day I Die

Sixth Entry

The cold sharpens my mind, well what's left of it anyways.

I've managed to pile a lot of snow next to one of the snow dunes and hollow it out enough for me to sit in it.

I close my eyes, taunting Death to come take me away. A listen as something lands on the roof of my hut and slides off.

I crawl slowly out of the snow, knife clenched between my teeth.

I quickly scan my surrondings, no tributes yet. I stand up and walk over to the back side of the snow pile, and I can't believe my eyes.

A parachute.

I run my hand through my hair, and quickly snatch it up.

Smiling like a little kid on Christmas I tear open the package.

A tightly knit sweater lays folded in my hands. New clothing.

I slip it on after I tear off the scrap of wool I tied around myself earlier. It fits perfect.

I grab the piece of wool and wrap it around my head so my ears don't get frost bite.

Then I notice the little piece of paper. I snatch it up just before the wind takes it. A mentor note.

Think outside the box, kid, I'm getting to old to mentor. I think it's about time district three has another victor.

A growl erupts from deep inside me. A new hatred forms for this guy I have to call my mentor.

Maybe when I get home I'll kill him too.

Then I snap back to reality. In order to get home I must win.

I grab my backpack and weapons and start to walk.

A quote I read once in my studies back home keeps running through my head.

Sane is the insanity most call normality put forth by society.

I love it, but I can't recall who said it.

Then I see him. Another tribute. I run not even caring if I alert him of my presence.

He's in a cave, rolled up in a ball with new boots on.

District one again. I wonder if I'm still his Dad.

His eyes pop open from the sound of the snow crunching under my feet. He quickly stands, a wave of pain washes over his face.

I drop my backpack and weapons. My inner animal kicking in again.

I swing at him with my fist and he's knocked onto his feet. I kick him in the ribs a few times until I hear a satisfying crack.

I stop and look at him.

He's missing a hand.

"Dad... Why are you doing this?" Fear and pain mixed in his voice.

I turn around not answering him to grab a kind when he grabs my ankel and I fall to my knee.

I kick out at him, and a wimper of pain sneaks out of his mouth.

I feel no mercy.

Where I landed on my knee is blood. I look down to see my pant leg ripped up. Little pieces of ice stick into my skin slowly melting.

"I'm not your father, Tommy." I answer without emotion as I walk over and pick up my favorite knife.

Then I walk back to him.

"You are too! I hate you!" He spits.

"I don't care." I bite back.

Then quickly I get him in a sitting position, with me behind him knife in hand.

I can tell he's trying to fight, but he's weak.

"Dad, please forgive me."

With that I figured he knew he was going to die, so I jammed the knife up under his chin into his skull.

Almost instantly he stops fighting, and lets death take him away.

I cut his upper arm, and grab my notebook from my bag and write:

I'm... There's nothing to say... Sorry.

My head battles with my hand on what I write down and it comes out wierd. I rip it out and stick it under Tommy's body.

Then I get up and put my stuff away. I leave the boots with his body.

Then I walk away, unknowing blood was smeared on half my face, and my hair in a disheveled mess.

~

I don't know how long I walk untel I come across another human. Another tribute. Another victim.

They're facing me, and they realise I'm starting at them at the same time I see them.

It's a boy I can't remember what district he's from, I can't even remember his name.

He dosent waste any time and runs toward me. He dosent have a weapon that I can see, but something seems off.

This guy is reflecting the little bit of sun that there is. People don't reflect...

Then he's on me, his fist connects to my jaw, and I stumble backwards.

He swings again, but I duck down just in time. I put out my leg and he trips on it.

When his body hits the ground it makes a ratteling noise.

This isn't a human.

I don't wait for it to get up as I begin to run.

I may be crazy, and stupid but I know there's no chance to kill a machine like that.

I sprint faster than I ever have, leaving the machine behind.

The snow tires out my legs pretty fast and soon I rest. The tribute didn't follow me and I thank God with all my heart for that.

I can't really wrap my mind about that encounter.

Is he one if the last tributes? If so how am I going to get home?

I open my mouth a little to drink some snow and a sharp pain erupts from my jaw. Shoot, I forogt about that.

I feel my jaw tenderly, but even the slightest of touches makes pain erupt from the wound.

Could the machine break my jaw?

That'd when I cry. I've held it in far too long now. All the death, all the killing, all the torture breaks me.

It's a normal thing to cry. People cry, animals cry. To show emotion should be allowed, but I'm in the hunger games and emotion shows weakness. Even though, I couldn't stop crying.

Not until my tears begin to freeze did I stop.

I place a handful of snow on my jaw hoping it dosent swell, and it's only a bruse.

The icy wins smacks me in the face keeping me alert and awake.

I stand, my young body feeling weak and frail. But even though I hurt and I'm cold I'm not dead, and that alone gives me hope.

I stretch out, and I eat some jerky then I begin to walk again.

Never in my fourteen years have I felt such a cold climate, and it amazes me the Capitols game makers could create such a place as this.

As I walk I see another tribute. Perhaps a girl this time, but I'm too afraid that she could be a machine like the other one was.

I need to think of a plan on how to defeat them, but that will have to wait until later.

Then once again I begin to build a snow fort for me to sit in away from the wind.

Life isn't good, it never was and it never will be, but as long as I'm alive I'm doing okay.

I need to get home, I need to win.