Not Just A Game

Chapter 39

Sleep didn't come easy to me. Every time I'd close my eyes I would see Griffin's empty eyes, cold hands, his still body.

At some point in the night, I'd woken up with a jolt. I'd had a serene dream, nice an peaceful that didn't seem to match the mood of my depressed state.

Instantly I was hit with the memory of the previous day, and tears sprung to my eyes once more.

It's early morning, probably about five am. The sky is a dull gray-blue, hinting that the sun is about to rise. It's much lighter by the forest, and the misty fog emitted from the trees conceals everything inside past ten yards in.

Sitting up, I realize I'm asleep in the middle if a field, with nothing hiding me from wandering tributes. It would be the smart thing to do, to move into the trees and try to find Dustin and Harley, but I can't seem to leave Griffin. The hovercraft hasn't come to pick him up yet because I'm lying beside his body.

I stand up unsteadily, casting a look down at him. I don't think I can take anything from him. Not like this. I'd be just another tribute picking supplies from the people who can't do anything about it. He may have died trying to get his weapons, and I intend to let him keep them.

I look at his face one last time, trying to memorize every last feature before I leave. He still has the little freckles dotted across his nose and the long eyelashes that still resemble a younger Griffin, the one I grew up with, rather than the man he's grown to be.

He grew up so fast, always taking care of his brother and sister, selling his services to the coal mine just to try to feed a few more mouths.

And here he is now, one of the greatest people I've ever known to live, lying in the grass, never to get up again.
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I'm only twenty yards into the forest when I hear the hovercraft lower itself to pick him up.

I can hear it travel in, and swish back out of the arena, the sound of the blades spinning as fast as I can blink.

I'm fifty yards in when I realize there's no turning back.

The fog in the woods seems to close around me like a silver cloud. I can't see any further than six feet in front of me. Any tribute could be trailing me and I'd be oblivious to it all.

It makes me nervous, being so out in the open. I can feel adrenaline pumping through me with every step, and it feels strange. I have so much energy but I can't use it. I'm ready to bolt at the snap of a twig.

I strain my ears for any sound of my District, but I can't hear anything. There doesn't even seem to be wind in the forest. If I stop and stand completely still, it's the most silence I've ever experienced. It feels so empty, so lonely.

It's hard to believe there's fifteen other people in the arena besides me.

I can barely see a thing, and I start to wonder if Dustin and Harley would even come in here. After the first twenty minutes if aimlessly wandering through the thick fog, I'm starting to think that they may have left.

I turn around and start walking back out of the trees.

But everything looks so unfamiliar, I've never seen any of it on my walk in here.

Do I even know which direction is out?

Everything in this forest looks the same. I wasn't really expecting to try and leave, so I didn't leave a trail or any clues on how to get out.

The others are probably waiting for me outside the treeline.

I can't even make out the sky above me, the tops of the trees, there's not even a detectable light source in the mist, and my frustration is eating me alive.