Author Games: Memoranda Of Terror

Semi Finals - Variations on a Theme - Vixen Axwell

District Nine - Vixen Axwell

"This is it."

Coral's voice blows away immediately on the wind, disappearing into the fog like so many other lines that have been spoken. A single tear appears in the corner of my eye. From this moment on, I will be by myself. There will be no one to keep me strong.

Apollo's twisted, broken body lies only a few metres to our left. My lack of goodbye to him will always stay with me, mainly because I never got the chance or the courage to tell him how much I will miss him. For most of my time in this arena, he has been by my side. He may never have been as caring as Elias, or as crafty as Coral, but I will miss him with all my heart. He is gone, forever. Nothing will bring him back.

Coral takes my hand, staring in front of her as if Apollo might suddenly move and come back. We stand in silence, but nothing happens. He is truly gone.

"This is it," she repeats, her voice quieter than I have ever heard it. She is almost silent, but I cannot tell if this is out of respect for the dead, or whether it is a way of just hiding her own depression.

"I don't want you to leave, Coral," I reply, and for the first time, I do not stutter. Coral, unlike my other allies, is still alive for her goodbye. I want to make sure she knows how much I mean it.

"I'm sorry, Vixen. Alliances are not good at this late stage in the Games."

She squeezes my hand tighter, holding onto it like pegs hanging onto washing in a gale. Her nails dig into my palm, but I do not protest. Instead, I grab back harder.

"You've been like a proper sister to me," I mumble, unable to hold back my sadness any longer. Tears finally begin to roll down my cheeks, like the rain that forced us together barely a few days ago.

"Don't cry, Vixen," she sighs, wiping away my tears with the sleeve of her jacket. "I don't want this to be any harder than it is already. You're like the little brother I never had."

"I'll miss you so much, Coral."

"I'll miss you too, Vixen."

She lets go of my hand, swooping me up into the hug. Whilst I was wary of any human contact when I first met my allies, now I do not hesitate to hug her back tightly. We stay together for barely a few minutes more.

"Goodbye, Vixen," whispers Coral, letting my hands drop limply back to my side. She blows me a kiss as she turns and disappears into the slight mist that has begun to roll over the moors. Within seconds, she is gone.

"Coral," I call after her, but there is no response. She isn't coming back.

I will never see her again.

As the thought sinks in, I begin to walk in the opposite direction. Tears fall like waterfalls from my eyes as I realize how much I am leaving behind now that the alliance has disbanded. Gradually, I'll forget how it feels to have someone to talk to without having them laugh at your every word. I'll forget the smiling, youthful face of Elias that seems so perfectly sketched into my mind right now. I'll forget the adventurous Apollo who tried so hard to make me speak. I'll forget the fierce, happy face of Coral as she told me all about her sister from District 4, the sister that seemed so much like mine.

With them gone, I begin to shiver from both fear and the slight chill in the air. The same fear I felt when the gong rang out now floods my body as I wander alone. If I met anyone now, even Coral, I feel so terrified I doubt I would be able to speak. I'm back to the beginning.

The moors continue endlessly, and I have no idea where I am heading. The wind rushes past my ears, carrying on it the sounds of other tributes. The intense fear of imminent death returns, sending cold chills throughout my entire body. Footsteps themselves that once symbolized company now symbolise that someone's following me. Shouts echo off the fog, bouncing around my ears.

I begin to feel as if someone else is around, and it is not the feeling I am being followed by past allies. Eventually, as I keep moving forward, a shadow appears on the horizon in the fog. They have a weapon, and their silhouette turns to spot mine. A single shout, and I am fleeing in the opposite direction.

Being small has its advantage in terms of speed. Whilst the other tribute seemed strong, I can hear their footsteps running behind me, and I can tell they are not as fast. It is a small sense of achievement in an emotion that is mostly fear. Eventually, I feel I have outrun them because I can no longer hear them behind me. However, the adrenaline still pumps through me and I keep moving.

I run for a few more minutes, before taking a quick check behind my shoulder to see if there is anyone. There is no one following me, but before I have a chance to turn my neck to look back in front of me, I hit something solid that pushes me straight to the floor.

In a daze, it takes a few seconds to realise what I have actually hit. The moment it registers, I back away in fear.

Blissia stands in front of me, a slightly crazed but menacing smile fixed on her face.

"I don't need speed to catch up with you," she laughs, walking forward towards me. "You need to watch where you're going."

I try to shout out in desperation, to beg for my life. Instead, no sound comes out my mouth.

"Oh, look at you," she mocks, entertained by all that is happening. "You're still too scared to say a single word, aren't you, coward?"

I take a deep breath, desperately trying to speak. If Blissia had been Coral, I would have said something. If Coral was here, she wouldn't be scared to confront this tribute.

"L...leave me a...alone," I mumble, looking down at the floor. Tears force their way out of my eyes for the third time in an hour.

"Cute," she laughs. "Well, you're cute for those Capitol people who tend to sponsor out of pity than wanting to win. Shall we disappoint all your remaining sponsors? Not that there will be any."

It takes barely an arm for her to pin me to the ground, but I am still free enough to wiggle my hand down to my belt, where my only supply is kept - my knife.

She laughs as she picks her knife and poises the tip to cut my throat.

"Any last words?" she giggles. "Oh wait, you're too much of a coward to speak."

Pain shoots through my body as the knife makes a cut, and she drags the blade along my throat.

In a last act of desperation, I muster all my strength and pull the knife from my belt, stabbing it straight into her chest. She gasps in both shock and pain, and backs away from me.

The blood flows from the wound and she pulls out the knife. The sticky red liquid pools around my shoes, making me feel sick and dizzy like it always has.

I begin to shake, mostly in shock. I try to pick my knife off the floor, but I am too weak to grasp anything. Blissia's cannon thunders around the arena, the sound piercing my ears.

The cannon should have been mine - not hers, mine.

I took her life because she was a killer.

Now, I am a killer, so I also deserve to die.

The knife on the floor beside me gleams temptingly in the grey light.