Finnick's Little Sister: a Hunger Games Fanfic

Chapter 8

The Games started today, and surprisingly, I wasn't at all afraid. Even with the memory of Mikaela and Aaron dying, I wasn't afraid. I wasn't afraid to go into these Games.

"Jillian, you ready?" Finnick asked, drawing me out of my thoughts and back into reality.

"Yeah as ready as I'll ever be I guess," I sighed, standing up.

He looked me over, taking in the black, skintight uniform they had given us all, a dark grey swirl forming the number 4 in the center. I tied my hair back as he looked at me, and I could see rare tears forming in his eyes.

"You better win," he whispered.

"I will Finnick. I'll come home," I replied, locking eyes with him.

He stared at me for a second, then he looked away. The loudspeakers called for tributes to go into the tubes, so I stepped inside, but Finnick caught my hand. He handed me a dark rope bracelet, a small seashell on it. Mikaela and our mom's bracelet. I put it on, holding back the tears as I put it on my dominant left hand. I began to go up, so I looked at my brother, knowing this may be the last time I saw him. As he faded from my view, I saw him raise 4 fingers, 2 halfway bent. A sign. Our family sign. 2 siblings dead, 2 alive. The house of Odair. Fallen, but still together. Hanging on by a shred of hope.

The arena. The arena was like no other I've ever seen. Sand as far as the eye could see. Sink holes in the sand could barely be seen, proving a threat. No water anywhere and burning heat everywhere, the worst place for a tribute from 4. I looked at Ethan a ways off, noticing the fear in his eyes. Water was what we depended on for food, shelter, and over all life back home. This could pose a problem for us. I saw a glint in Hayley's green eyes, as if she knew already knew what to do. Around us, there were only weapons. No food, water, or bags of any sort. Just weapons. The timer ticked down, and I looked for a thing of throwing knives or even a trident. No tridents and one sling of knives. I needed those knives. I needed them. The bell tolled at zero, sounding the beginning of these games. My games. I sprinted and grabbed the knives, then turning and running in the opposite direction. All around me, sinkholes drew down into swirling blackness. Death. I had to avoid them. Looking around more, I hopped between sinkholes to escape the bloobath. Cannons. 12 cannons sounded around me, booming through my souls. But as I kept going the arena just.... Stopped. It didn't go anywhere. I couldn't run. Careers, one from 2, ran after me, not watching his step. I grabbed a knife, but before I could throw it he fell through a sinkhole. He disappeared. Suddenly, I knew how I could win.

"Ethan," I shouted, knowing been quiet was not a priority.

He turned to me and sprinted in my direction. "Yeah?"

"I know how to live."

"How? Breathing? I've known that for a while thanks."

"No you idiot. Outsmart them. Although that would require you to have a brain."

"I think I'll just kill them."

"You can't kill me," a voice said from behind us and Ethan spun around, holding his newly found sword.

Hayley. She stood in front of us, battle flaming in her eyes. Ethan ran off, Hayley chasing him. I sighed, knowing they would do nothing but attack eachother. I sat at the edge of the arena, watching tributes disappear down below. Nearly none of the 11 others remained, presumably dying in the sinkholes. I looked at Ethan, who fought for his life. What were we fighting for though? Was it really a life if we won? We killed or got killed in here. I needed to get out, but I'd have to kill. Was it worth it? And how long would this small arena last?