𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄 ▸ HUNGER GAMES [ 1 ]

TWENTY

TWENTY -

It is said that the venom of a Tracker Jacker is designed to target the place where fear lives in your brain, so naturally my nightmares are filled with death.

Mother, father, Loren. I watch my sister beaten to a pulp, tortured and ripped apart only to be put back together and killed again each time I fall back into my hellish sleep. Unable to stop it happening and unable to look away.

Cato, too. The Gamemakers' firebombs ripping a gaping hole in his chest, Zafira's spear sinking into his back as he topples forward into my arms. Scenes straight from the history books, a gladiator torn limb from limb by wild animals.

When I finally come to, I'm curled up on my side beneath the shelter back at camp. My mind is still hazy, eyes squinted half shut in the hope that whatever I see when I open them will bear no resemblance to the demise of everyone I love, over and over. Every inch of my body screams in protest when I try to move. Muscles spasm and bones crack and I'm wondering all of a sudden how long I've been out. Minutes, hours, days even? Once I'm certain that lifting my eyelids won't result in the torture of my loved ones, I'm instantly struck down by the midday sun blazing overhead.

How many days have we been in the arena now? How many of us survived the Tracker Jacker attack?

I can't really be sure, so instead I try to focus on the things I do know. Katniss Everdeen, the girl from 12. We had her cornered up a tree somewhere in the forest. We made a camp, set a fire and fell asleep. And the next thing I remember is the swarm. The cloud of insects engulfing us, running through the woods with only one aim – to stay alive. I was one of the first to make it back to the camp, along with Marvel. I received more stings than him, I think he was the one who lead the way. But I returned to the woods.

Cato. I went back for Cato. Suddenly the memory of the bloodcurdling screams echoing at my back, one of our number stumbling to the ground. Who was it? It wasn't Cato, I know. He materialised with a bloody sword, telling me that Peeta was dead. Peeta! Perhaps that was who the cannon was for. Who else was with us? Cato, Marvel, Zafira...I killed her. Put a knife through her heart when she tried to take down Cato back at the camp. Her cannon fired just as I began to lose grip on consciousness. Which leaves only one tribute.

Glimmer. The realisation knocks the breath from my lungs and a choked noise escapes my throat. The dying wails, the thud against the dirt as I ran. I tried to go back for her, but the Tracker Jackers were already on me and I had no choice but to push on after Marvel. Glimmer is gone.

A tiny thread of relief runs through my brain at the thought that I will never have to face killing her. She was nice. She teased me about Cato. We'd even formulated a couple of inside jokes, together. I come to the aching conclusion that my short time spent with Glimmer is probably the closest I have ever felt to a teenage girl other than my own sister.

A fresh bout of grief rolls over me, coupled with a blinding thirst. My mouth is dry as a desert, and I reach out to grab the first canteen of water I can see under the shelter. It takes a supreme amount of effort just to drink, and half of it seems to slosh out of the bottle, rolling down the hollow of my throat in rivulets until the front of my shirt is drenched.

I notice the lumps under my skin have shrunk down, to the size of a normal sting, but the angry redness and dull throbbing seems to be here to stay. Cursing, I hoist myself up on a crate of supplies to survey the camp. It looks much the same as the last time we left it – Trig standing guard close by the pyramid, spear in hand. Marvel and Cato are filling canteens at the lake, and though the former looks as though he's recovered pretty well from the attack, my District partner doesn't seem to be in quite as good shape. Scrapes and bruises cover his bare arms, coupled with similar small red lumps to the ones on my own skin. A particularly nasty one has sprung up on his cheek. It was two times the size when I last saw him though, so it must be getting better.