Based off The Hunger Games; Against All Odds.

Chapter 15

This year, I start to mentor. The tributes this year are Onyx and Deliliah. Onyx is 16, only a year older than I am. He is a tall, muscular boy who looks much like Clark. His hair is a much darker brown and his skin a bit paler, but very handsome. I cringe everytime I look at him. Delilah is a small thirteen year old girl, with smooth, creamy skin and long auburn hair. She has freckles covering her face and hazel eyes.

Johanna has been very depressed since her mother passed away. She has nobody left that she loves. I want to tell her I love her, but the words don't form. Blight has taught me the basics to mentoring. He taught me how to get one of them sponsors in servere times of need, what I can do to keep them alive, and that I can't do anything to save them if they are in a fight at the Cornucopia. It was a little rough at first, trying to remember everything. But after studying, I got the hang of it.

When they met me on the train, they were very eager to learn how to survive. I didn't talk, and they were confused why. Instead I decided to draw pictures. It had been a hobby I took up after the Games. I drew the Cornucopia, and all the weapons. Every year the arena changes a little bit, so I couldn't exactly draw what it would look like. I would  hear Onyx and Delilah whispering about me, wondering why I didn't speak. They have come up with random theories, such as I'm an Avox. They have asked if I am one. But day after day all I did was draw the same bloodbath scene over and over, showing them stupid things that could get them killed.

"Why can't you just tell us instead of drawing all these damn pictures?" Onyx snapped.  Aloe explained that I have become "mute" do to "trauma" from being in the Games. My stomach began to ache when he said that. I know how to talk, at least I think I do. I just choose not to. I haven't spoken in over a year. Some victors take up drinking or become morphlings after being in the Games, but not speaking is easier for me. The days count down until Onyx and Dellilah's demise. I already knew from the time Dellilah got reaped that she will die in the bloodbath. Onyx may survive, and I am going to try my hardest to bring one of them home.

I was right when I said Dellilah would die in the bloodbath. She almost made it out, but the burly kid from District 3 killed her with only his hands. I grieved for her and her family. It was obvious why, she reminded me of Cecile. Her fragile body broke in half in the boys hands. Nothing I had taught her would have saved the poor angels life. Onyx has been getting sponsors, but not enough for anything he may need.  He was astonished when he found out I had killed 10 children in the Games. He got into a fight with the District 8 girl at the Cornucopia, but got away with only a minor cut on his arm. I dug my nails into my wrist as he fought off the District 12 boy, fearing that he might be killed by him. So many things this year reminded me of my personal Games.

I watched from the large screens of the Mentor Center as Onyx made his way through the arena. I hadn't slept in days, I was too busy watching Onyx, hoping he would stay alive. As it came down to the final 5, Onyx was still alive. He had killed 3 people, the same number Clark did. They called for the annual feast, but Onyx didn't go. It was a trick anyway, there wasn't anything there but a pack of mutts. I watched as three got killed by the vicious dog-like creatures, leaving the District 2 girl and Onyx as the only ones left.

He had become extremly ill, and I worried for his health. He had to win, I promised myself he would. So I took a walk with Aloe throughout the Capitol, him talking to people and getting Onyx more sponsors. We got enough money to send him two pills that should cure his sickness right away. I attached a note that said 'Come home.' on the tin bottle. It seemed a bit stupid, but it was true. He smiled widley when he got it and took them both. By the next day, he was better. He realized that he had to kill the District 2 girl, or else he won't win.

They did it. Again. The same damn wave of water washed them to the Cornucopia. I couldn't believe it. I ran down the hallway of the Mentor Center, where I had been residing in for the length of the Games. I sat beside a gas pipe and held my head between my knees. I screamed, the only noise besides crying I was able to make. Aloe ran down the hall and held me in his arms.

"Shh. Erabelle it's okay. Don't worry. He is okay, he's coming home." he said, rocking me back and forth in his arms. My breathing began to speed up and I slowly stopped crying. He is coming home. Aloe's words echoed in my head.

When Onyx awoke in the hospital, I made sure I was by his side. I embraced him and buried my head in his shoulder, so happy he was safe. I had grown to love Onyx as if he was a sibling of mine. Seeing him safe was pure bliss to me. When we returned home, I tried my hardest to speak. Only muffled sounds were able to come out.  Aloe had doctors come in to check on me, and they soon found out my voicebox was damaged. 

"Do you want surgery, Erabelle?" Aloe had asked me. I shook my head no, for the fear of sharp objects near my throat reminded me too much of the Games. The doctor said with time and therapy, my voice might have hope of healing.

Within a year, my voice didn't change.. Still faint muffles as the 73rd Hunger Games came around. I decided to give up, and instead showed people my emotions using hand motions. I didn't mentor this year, Blight did. Instead, I spent time with Onyx. We would climb trees, attempt to hunt, make campfires, and he began to teach me how to swim. I was terrible at it, flapping my arms around in the cold mist. I still tried simply because I wanted to. 

On rainy nights, Onyx would put a ladder between both of our roofs. He then climbed over the ladder onto my roof and began tapping on my window. I opened it, letting him fall onto my floor. I softly chuckled at his extreme clumsyness. He laid himself off on my bed, and I automatically snuggled up to him. It was a force of habit, even though it has been two years since Clark died. Being around Onyx, it felt wrong. The unnecessarily long hugs we shared at the end of the day, the long gazes into eachothers eyes. It felt as if I was betraying Clark.

Find new love. One of Clark's last sentences repeated in my head. He would want me to be happy. But I wasn't sure if I had feelings for Onyx. He obviously showed them for me, but I wasn't sure how to respond.

"I want you to get your voice back Era. I want to know what you sound like." he said. I cringed at the sound of my nickname. I gazed into his eyes and cuddled my head into his shoulder. His warm embrace surrounded me, saving me from nightmares. Soft whispers inturrupted my bad dreams, and caring hands caught my tears. I did the best I could to return the favor, but he was a lot different. He didn't cry or scream when he had nightmares, he only began to sweat and twitch. So I held on to him, not daring to let go. In the morning, he was already awake, watching me while I slept. 

Seeing his face so close to mine, the akward silence we held when I woke up, I wanted to do something. I had the urge to kiss him, a feeling I had felt many times before. I had to do something before he pulled away.  

"I was thinking, maybe we could go-" was all he could say before my lips crashed against his. At first he was startled, but soon he began to kiss me back. It was far different then the few kisses Clark and I shared before, this was different. The electricity and effection showed with Onyx gave me butterflies. I knew I wouldn't loose him. When we pulled away, he was blushing and smiling wide. The rest of our day was gradually akward, as we moved in caution. Not too close to cause a spark, but barely leaving eachothers sides. What else were we supposed to do?