Rising Flames

Chapter 20: Decision Time

And so it went on. Each day or so I would find someone injured, someone who wanted, needed to go home. Each time I would tell them the same thing, only one thing they needed to do, and all of them were fine with it. Ten people, each close to death or really to young to be here.
There was: Jane, 10, from District 7; Kayla, 17, District 4; Jay, 15, District 1; and so the list went on, until there was one person from each district having gone home. But for each person saved, there were still multiple deaths. Liam was killed about two days ago: the strongest player from District 12, and now he's gone. Now, we were right at the very end. Three people left. Me, obviously, an 18 year old from District 1 - I think his name was Corbin.
And Thomas.
Thomas who had been so kind to me until that day, that one day when his sanity seemed to slip.
Shaking the thought away, a grab my carry bag, place the last key inside and start off through the trees. Today's the day I finally go home.

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Clearings seem to pass by quickly, as I slip through the shadows of the leaves, watching the world from above, hurrying to the one clearing that really matters anymore. There's the stream I would collect my water at, there are the bushes of berries that were easy to collect - and easy to hide in - there are the traps I set and intend to leave for the others.
Reaching the clearing, I here clashing of metal upon metal, weapons hitting, and eventually a cry out. Wether it was Corbin or Thomas, I don't know, and I don't really want to find out.
I climb around the edge of the clearing till I reach the tree that is closest to the button, my way home. I don't here any more fighting, but there was no canon fire to symbolise a death.
Scuttling down the tree, I scamper over to the button, but I can see Thomas through the trees ahead, still breathing, if shallowly.
I can't believe I'm doing this, I think as I rush over to him.
His eyes are glassy, tears spilling from them. A gash spread from his shoulder round to his hip on the other side. I start treating him, I don't know why, he'll end up getting hurt again once I leave anyway.
"Who's that? What are you doing?" His eyes flick around as if he has become blind.
"Stop squirming, it'll only make it worse."
His breath catches in his throat, "Maysillee?" His voice is a croak when it comes out this time.
"It hardly matters, all that matters right now is that we clean this up so you might actually have a chance of winning and getting out of here."
He catches my wrist as I attempt to continue treating him, "It does matter. I almost killed you, and you're helping me." His eyes drop, but I don't know if he was actually looking at me in the first place, "I don't deserve to win, I deserve to die in here." Another tear flows down his cheek.
I decide now's a good time to try my scolding voice, "Don't be stupid, of course you deserve to live. You were scared, doing what you thought was right at the time."
More tears leave paths down his grimy face, "You don't really believe that."
"How do you know?"
He doesn't speak for a while, and when he does his voice is a whisper, "I don't."
"Exactly." Looking down at the wound, I realise I won't be able to heal it.
Pulling the key from my satchel I look from it to Thomas to the button and around again.
Nodding to myself, I hoist Thomas up and more or less carry him towards the button, leaning him against it when we finally reach it. I put the key in the slot, turn it and let the button take it. Then, taking Thomas's hands in mine, I place his on the button, mine on top.
"Maysillee, what are you doing?"
I take a deep breath, speaking to him quietly. "Sending you home." And with that, I used his hands to press down on the button, then I turn around and walk away from the only chance I had of going home.