The 55th Hunger Games

Chapter 13

        Cold. Freezing, numbing, burning cold. My tree shakes violently. My blanket hangs from the tree by the rope I had secured it to. The freezing wind whips mercilessly against me, curling against my skin with icy fingers.

        I am in a very bad position. The wind is ferocious. At any moment the branch beneath me could snap or one from above could fall. Clumsily, I undo the rope around me with very numb, weak fingers. I undo the end from the tree and stuff it and my blanket inside my backpack.

        I throw it down to the ground first. I will not risk climbing down with it on my back, and a speedy retreat is what I need right now.

        I have never been so scared dismounting a tree before. My hands sting and tremble as they numbly grip the branches I use to make my descent. I end up jumping the last few feet to the ground and stumble, falling over on my side.

        The sky is dark. Very, very dark. I can see nothing except what is immediately in front of me. I finally locate my backpack near the tree and throw it over my shoulders. Then I begin to run.

        I cannot stay in this forest. Forests are incredibly dangerous in whether like this. Branches and entire trees will be falling. If the wind back in District 7 is even half the speed and ferocity of this wind, then we are all given warning not to enter the forests, and the workers at the plantations must stay away until the wind has died down.

        I have to get out of here as quickly as possible, and the rocky hills are my best bet. They must be near to here, but I can see nothing as I run on. I hear nothing but the raging wind. I can't run at full speed, as I am trying to avoid crashing into a tree or tripping over a root. An injury would not be helpful right now.

        I run on and on until I come out of the forest. I see rocks in front of me. I have made it. But now that I am out here, I realise it is far, far colder than in the forests where the trees shielded me from the worst of the wind.

        Then I see something descending from the sky. In fact I see many things descending from the sky. I realise with horror that this is no normal storm that will soon pass. I am in the middle of a blizzard!

        Suddenly I am very frightened that I am doomed to freeze to death on these rocky hills. But then if they are rocky hills, why would there not be rocky caves? If I can find a cave -or at least a small overhang in the rocks- it could be my saviour.

        I begin climbing the slippery rocks. The wind is unbearable when I crest each mound. It feels like if I stood up straight, it would blow me away. I'm thankful that I still have my gloves and beanie on. They may just give me a small advantage against the storm.

        After over an hour on climbing, I am in the midst of despair. The snow is heavy on the ground now and is very difficult to walk through. My feet are wet and I can barely feel them. I cannot keep going for much longer.

        Then I lose my footing and slip down one of the rocky hills now piled with snow. I do not get up from the ground when I come to a stop. The snow is not yet deep enough to dig a burrow in, and besides, I do not have the strength. So I just lie still, and let the snow pile on top of me.

        I wonder how the other tributes are doing. Have they found shelter, or are they as helpless as I am?  I wonder how the audience are liking this. Do they enjoy the gamemaker's attempt to liven things up? They must. Or at least the Capitol people will be enjoying it, anyway. I'm not sure I can say the same of the district people.