The Hunger Games: Retold

Chapter 17

I've lost track of time. My thoughts are chaotic, fever and thirst ravaging my concentration. I don't know how long it's been since I buried myself in the streambed, but I feel like it's been days. It can't be, though, can it? I'd have died of thirst, or blood loss, or infection, or any number of things. I've been awake and asleep on and off, but I'm not always sure which is which. I feel certain I was awake and talking to Haymitch about my father just moments ago, but of course that's nonsense. But it doesn't make much more sense that a family of rabbits came to drink at the stream and literally had a picnic on my chest. Did that really happen, or did I dream it?

I look around at all the sad, quiet people standing in a tight group in the dingy, high-ceilinged reception room. I think to ask one of them if I'm awake, but my father has told me firmly to stay by his side, I'm not to talk unless someone talks to me and only to help with serving the juice and tea. He has made the most beautiful, soft, sweet cookies, each adorned with a gently bowing lily. He let me help with the decorating, and I feel a little glow of pride each time someone compliments them. My father wouldn't take any payment for them, making my mother furious, but it was one of the few times he didn't give in to her screaming. He said we owed these families who lost so much in the mine accident, when we never have to put our own family in the kind of danger they face every day.

I watch Madge's father. He looks terribly uncomfortable, like he would rather be anywhere but here, among all the grieving families he just handed out medals to for having their relatives killed. My eyes never leave Katniss for long. She's wearing an old, too large coat over her blue dress and her dark hair is in a single braid. I've only ever seen it done up in fancy plaits with ribbons. Her little sister, tears streaking her cheeks, is clutching her hand while their mother, pale and empty-eyed, is steered around by Katniss' hand on her elbow. Katniss herself is blank-faced and her jaw is set. She comforts her sister, and talks gently to her mother, walking them both to the refreshment table.

I feel my cheeks start to burn as they approach and my brain spins frantically, trying to think of something to say that will convey how sorry I am she's lost her father. That I know how much she loved him and that he must have been so proud of her. The medal gleams against her chest and she thanks my father when he hands her cookies, then she turns and looks to me. Her storm gray eyes hold such painful depths of sadness and loss that my words freeze on my lips and I can only mutely hand over the three cups of tea with trembling hands. She thanks me automatically and turns away. I feel tears well up in my own eyes and turn to clutch my father's arm, reassuring myself of his warm, solid presence and see that his eyes are wet as well. He runs a large hand over my hair and squeezes my shoulder.

"I know, son. Good boy."

A cannon boom jolts me awake. The sky spins slowly and lazily above me. Did I really hear that? I close my eyes again in weary frustration, I hate not knowing what's real or not real. Some time passes and the forest sounds gradually resume. I think the water is trying to talk to me. Sorry, I think fitfully. Can't reach you. Another boom echoes through the trees as the birds screech into flight once more. A battle? I struggle to think who might be left, strong enough to fight, but the darkness closes in and pulls me under.

I shiver myself awake in the gathering dusk. The grasses and mud are keeping me surprisingly warm, but the fever is sending chills deep into my bones. My leg sends electric shocks of agony up to my hip and my throat is scrapingly dry and sore. How am I here? How is this happening? I need to burst out of the weedy bank, to run from the arena. What would happen if I just pick a direction and run? No one has tried that, have they? I try to force my thoughts to focus, to remember past Games. Why has no one ever just left? I laugh, and cringe a little as the manic sound echoes in the valley. Calm down. Calmly. Be reasonable. It's so simple, I just need to leave. I need to find Katniss and tell her my idea. She's going to laugh so much that no one has tried this before. I smile to myself. I'll just rest minute before I go. My leg doesn't hurt so much anymore. The sky is growing dark, maybe I should wait until morning. That would be better. I'll rest up, then get Katniss and we can leave.