A Hunger Games Fanfiction: Prim's Games ||Book One||

Chapter 8

They start by kicking and pushing me around. Then Cato takes his sword and pins me to a tree by my shirt. Then they take turns throwing their weapons at me.

Glimmer, with her bow, misses a shot in the leg. Marvel nicks me in the arm with his spear. Clove throws her knife and sticks out of my wrist, probably hitting a nerve, because I can't feel it very well.

I can't cry, I order myself. I won't let them see me cry.

But tears begin to stream down my face anyway. They all laugh.

"What's the matter, Twelve?" Marvel taunts.

"Are the games too painful for you?" The District 4 girl asks in mock sympathy.

"Please," I croak.

They laugh again, about to throw their weapons again when Glimmer let's out a cry. She crumples to the ground, with Thresh from District 11 holding a rock above her. The Careers all attack him.

I, meanwhile, rip the knife out of my wrist. I'm unable to move hand/wrist. I take Cato's sword from the tree and and hold it using my left hand.

Then I see him.

Peeta is coming at Clove from behind with brick in his hand. Lot's of blunt objects, I suppose. He waves his hand for me to run. I back up into a bush and watch the fight take place.

I don't know if Peeta and Thresh are allies, or just happen to be here at the same time. I'm kind of surprised that Thresh would try and save me if he's not Peeta's ally.

Peeta hits Clove in the back of the head, and she falls to the ground, though I don't think she's dead.

A cannon fires and I know that Glimmer is dead.

Cato grabs a branch from the ground and swings at Thresh. Marvel tries to use his spear to impale Peeta, but misses.

Clove is obviously still slightly holding on, because she tries to trip Peeta. He avoids her arm and hits her in the head again.

The cannon tells me that Clove is dead.

Marvel, Cato, and the District 4 girl take off into the woods. Thresh and Peeta are left alone in the clearing with Glimmer and Clove's bodies.

"Where's the little girl?" Thresh asks gruffly.

"I told her to hide." Peeta looks around and I come out.

Well, Thresh isn't hurting Peeta or I, so I don't know what to think. I can hardly stand, but Peeta doesn't look like he's much better. He's got a deep cut on his upper arm. It looks infected, and he looks dizzy.

"Thank. You." I rasp out each word one at a time. "Thresh. And. Pee-ta."

"What's wrong?" Peeta kneels down and examines the bruises on my neck.

I try to get to the point. "10. Boy. Choke."

He nods. "How's your wrist?"

"Can't. Move. Hand." This is getting frustrating.

"We need to get you somewhere safe." Peeta tries to pick me up, but he can't.

"I've got her," Thresh picks me up and carries me bridal-style.

We go along for awhile and hear a cannon fire. I wonder who was killed. Then I break the silence.

"You. Two. All-ies?" I ask.

"Not really," he responds. "Couldn't bear to see them torturing a little girl like that. You're friend just happened to be here at the same time."

"You. Won't. Kill. Us?"

"Not now." He answers. "Maybe later on. When it's necessary."

"Thank. You." I say again.

"You should probably stop talking. You don't want to completely lose your voice."

It's probably early afternoon when we find a thickly wooded part of the forest. Thresh sets me down, and without another word, leaves. Peeta makes a fire, but I can see him painfully moving his right arm.

"I'm sorry I'm left you." Peeta says, clearly angry with himself. "I tried to help you but ultimately made things worse for you."

I shake my head. I take the bandages out of my bag and apply some disinfectant. There's still some crusted on from when I tried to put it on Elm's wound. I grab his arms and pull his jacket off. I cut his shirt sleeve off and wrap the gauze around his arm.

He flinches, but eventually it looks like it's helping a bit. Then he does the same for me. He treats the cut in my wrists and the nick in my arm, using the rest of the bandages. We heat the water from my thermos and make tea. I find some mint leaves and drop them into the container of steaming water.

We take turns sipping the tea. It's not as good as the stuff I got from my sponsors, but still good. Then Peeta and I hunt and kill a groosling, though I'm surprised considering how loud we each are.

We cook it up, eat it, and Peeta offers to keep watch while I sleep. I can't even argue, and quickly doze off.

My dreams are filled with nightmares. I'm at the place where the pre-game interviews take place. The audience is throwing things at me. But instead of fruits and vegetables, which people sometimes do throw, it's knives and spears and swords.

I see Cato and Marvel in the audience, grinning as a spear from Marvel hits me dead on in the throat.

Then I find myself standing in front of President Snow. The President of Panem.

"You lied about Peeta," he shakes his head in disgust. "We don't deal with lies here in the Capitol very well."

"I'm sorry!" I cry, and realize I have my voice. "I was just trying to reach out to the hearts of the audience. To get more sponsors!"

"Your fate, Miss Everdeen, will be a somber one."

I wake up with what I think is a gasp, but it sounds more strangled coming from my throat.

"Prim?" Peeta turns. "You okay?"

I nod, but I'm unable to shake that dream. Does President Snow know I lied? Will I be punished if I make it out of here alive? And, if he doesn't know, is this dream still predicting my destiny? Will there be little hope for my future?

"You. Sleep." I say.

Peeta doesn't seem like he wants to argue with that and lays down his head, but doesn't shut his eyes. I don't think he wants to leave me, even if it's just to watch for danger.

I sit underneath a tree, with Cato's sword in my good hand. The sun's going down and the anthem plays, followed by a list of the dead tributes.

Glimmer, Clove, and the District 4 girl (Marvel and Cato must have decided she wasn't of much use to them).

That means the remaining tributes are Marvel, Cato, the girl from District 5, Thresh, Rue, Peeta, and me.

There are only seven left.