The 53rd Hunger Games- Two Words

33. Lost and Found

The shades created by the rising sun are stunning. Or at least, they would be anywhere else.

After all, I’m in the arena.

I pull myself up. I ache all over from both physical and mental exhaustion. It’s just after dawn, but that’s not worries me. At the moment, it seems all I’ve been doing is sleeping. Hadrian’s still coming after me with the Careers, I’m sure. I should be on the move.

A silver object catches my eye. It’s just above my head. I reach up and grab it.

A parachute. I smile, and open it.

Food. Finally.

District rolls. Cinnamon and poppy seeds. It makes me smile as I break one of the rolls open. The scent of the sharp spice fills my nose. It’s still warm; they mustn’t have been sent long ago. I thank Tule in my head. I finally have something to fill up my alarmingly empty pack.

The sun is hanging half over the horizon. Every sunrise, every sunset is colourful here in the arena. This isn’t how I remember the sun rising in the district. It’d just be the dark gradually getting lighter. This sunrise, and its colours, must be artificial, but they’re still beautiful.

I eat three of the large rolls before I can find the restraint to stop myself. My appetite has returned, it seems. I’ll have to gather more meat, and that vegetation Hadrian found. I don’t want to live on fish, but my weapon isn’t build for bringing down small game. Even if I had a bow, I’d miss. Maybe I could get Hadrian to teach me how to throw a knife.

Get a grip! I scold myself. He’s not coming back, idiot!

I climb out of my tree. I decide that it’s still dark enough to rundown the grassy slope to the lake’s shore. I want to get the rest of this black stuff off.

As it turns out, the black stuff is water soluble. I rinse it out from my hair, my face, my hands, my arms. It feels nice to recover a level of cleanliness.

The sun is taking it’s time rising. It’s a little hard to see. This light could be confused for the light of dusk. Maybe it is dusk.

I shake my head. No. The Gamemakers are just trying to mess with me. I can’t let them win.

I head back into the forest. I start walking again. At this rate, I’ll be back where I started this time next week.

I drift deep into the trees, easily concealing myself. I’m still on edge. I’m still afraid.

Then I hear something behind me.

I turn, and can see the outline of something humanoid. Another tribute. For a moment, we just stand, staring at each other. I can’t make out any colours, only the gleam of his eyes. He looks tall and well built. This immediately places him as a Career. He’s not Hadrian. He limps slightly, seems a little too beat up. Is it Jem? Maybe the boy from One?

Whoever it is, they’ll come. I’m trying to figure out who it is, and I’m guessing they’re trying to figure out who I am. I stand there, trembling, half turned, ready to run.

Then they take a step forward.

This is like a trigger being pulled on a gun. I shoot off into the trees, suddenly agile, slipping between trees and bush. I try to lose them, but there are footsteps; the sound of pursuit. They aren’t heavy. They’re light, barely audible.

“Eunia!”

I almost freeze. He knows my name. Whoever called out has a ragged, tired voice. I want to recognise it, but I still keep running.