Part 7 - The Boy from District 11.
My head feels clouded, foggy. My body is stiff and sore, expecially my head. As I open my eyes, black spots cover my sight.
I struggle to sit upright, trying to use my arms as balance beams. But I'm weak. I firm hand pushes me gently against a cold wall of stone.
"WhereamI?" I mumble, not really making much sence.
" It's ok," says a gruff voice.
"Who!" I jump up to my feet immediately, forgetting the dizziness and looking around wildly.
I'm in a dark, damp cave. Well, not really a cave, it's more like a little shelter of rocks sitting near a small pond, which is ringed with wheat the colour of dark corn. The shelter of rocks is small, barely big enough for two people to fit into, and is also covered in clumps of dark green moss. The five metre distance covering the pond to the shelter is made up of dust and granite. I can't see any trees, just wheat which circulates around the cave.
I reach for my pack, but realise that it has been taken from me, and I spin wildly, trying to look for it.
In my way stands a boy. He's well built, tanned and muscular, brown skinned. His eyes are black, matching his hair colour. I recognise him as the boy from District 11.
" Why am I here? Where's my pack?" I demand, stepping closer to him, no longer afraid. The boy holds his hands up in surrender.
" It's fine, your pack's over there," he points towards the enterance of the shelter, yet I do not take my eyes off this predator.
" Who are you?"
" From District eleven. My name is Thresh. You can leave now, I won't come after you." I snatch my eyes away from Thresh and sprint towards my pack, scoop it up, and hold it in my arms. I unzip the flap, searching, making sure to keep my knife in my hand as I find it.
Everything is in there.
I drop the pack in defeat, confused.
"You... you knocked me out, and you didn't kill me. Why?"
Thresh doesn't answer, just stares glumly at his over-sized hands.
" Why?" I demand, taking a step closer, holding out my knife.
Thresh seems taken aback, and raises his hands in surrender, then sits down into a corner of the shelter.
" I don't know why I saved your life," he mumbles.
" You seem innocent... and special."
"Special?" I ask, voice barely above a whisper. I lower the knife and take a small step forward.
" But you would have had more chance of winning, you could have had more supplies from my pack." I argue. Was this a trick?
" Anyway," Thresh continues.
" Were in the field, across from the forest. I knew I would be safe here because in District Eleven, I work in fields everyday. Or... worked."
I'm starting to feel sorry for the big guy, which isn't good. What if this is all a trick?
" How far are we from the Cornucopia?" I ask. Thresh's head snaps up, his eyes cold as stone, as though looking straight through me.
" Why? Your not thinking of going there, are you, Finch? You just can't, the Careers..." he trailed off.
" I've been there before, I just wanted to know if the Careers could find us here."
Us. I can't believe I just said that.
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A Story Of Nightlock.
FanfictionA story of how Foxface, a tribute from District Five of Panem, survives until the final five of The Hunger Games. Ever wonder if she had allies? Love? How did she survive? Did she ever have sponsors? This is how I imagined Foxface in the arena, alth...
