Ox: Thresh Speaks

Boy from Ten

Finch had an arm around his shoulder and was trying to push him off but she wasn't strong enough. He wasn't looking at her at all. He was looking at me and his eyes were hollow and crazy. Like someone left out in the heat too long who doesn't know where he is. His hand was waving around so quickly that I couldn't watch it and just saw the knife.

When he saw I was awake he swore and jabbed for my shoulder.

I grabbed his hand and pushed him off, wrenching his wrist away from me. Finch had fallen with him and as he opened his mouth to scream she shoved her hand over it so that it was just a gurgling noise. She looked up at me and nodded to the sickle.

The boy's eyes went wide. His hand was hanging limply; I had broken his wrist. He was flat on his back, Finch pinning him down, and I could see that his left boot was thinner than his right and twisted. Back home he would have been deemed useless. The Capitol would be surprised that he'd lived this long. His family too, though that didn't occur to me until later. Until after I'd heard him speak.

He thrashed wildly, arms and legs everywhere. Maybe he hit me. I don't know. If he did I didn't feel it. I just remember Finch wincing as he bit down on her hand, her eyes squeezed closed. Hurry, Thresh. It was like that was what she was saying. But I could just stand and watch. As if something had grabbed hold of me and made me stop.

The boy was desperate. The noises coming from behind Finch's hand were more like sobbing. His whole face was wet.

The knife had fallen from his hand and had half-stuck in the soil. The sickle was behind me, I knew, and I'd have to turn my back on him to reach it.

He reached out his good hand and grabbed Finch around the throat.

I still can't remember what happened next. For a few seconds everything is hot and red. When my memory comes back in I'm kneeling over the boy and he's blinking at his own knife sticking out of his chest. No blood.

Finch was looking up at me, one hand around her neck with the other still holding the boy's mouth. All the colour seemed to have drained out of her. Her lips were trembling slightly and her eyes looked sort of damp.

The boy was trying to say something. I felt like my body wasn't really there. He was looking up at me with sad eyes and one hand around Finch's wrist, trying to move her. Not strong enough. I stood up.

"You can talk to the cameras," Finch stuttered, talking to the boy. His eyes locked onto her, ignoring me. The person who killed him even though he wasn't dead yet. "No screaming, but you can talk to the cameras, say goodbye."

Her voice cracked and she backed away, turning so that I couldn't see her face. I just watched, not knowing what to feel. He hadn't killed me. Or Finch. We were both alive and unhurt.

"District Ten," the boy coughed. A few spots of blood dropped onto his chin. The knife looked almost funny just sticking out of him. He was wearing a jacket that was a sort of maroon colour, almost like dried blood. Underneath it I thought I could see his ribs. One of the older ones. I didn't remember seeing him in training.

I didn't look away.

"District Ten, I'm sorry. Ma, Pa. The odds, right..." - he shuddered and had to stop for a moment - "Please, look after Alex and Danny. Please."

And then he died.

If Ash had said anything before he died I didn't hear it. I was running and there was noise. But this time I wondered who Alex and Danny was. I imagined saying goodbye to grandmamma and Fennel and knew I wouldn't know where to start. Not even being able to see them.

The boy had had a whole life somewhere and I didn't even know his name. Still don't.

"Thresh. Are you okay?"