The 65th Hunger Games - EDITING

Chapter thirty-three

It's only a few hours before dark when I finally finish the net. It's far from being my best looking one, but it's sturdy and there's no doubt it will be efficient. It's about ten feet wide by five or six feet large so it could easily trap a person. I regret complaining anytime my parents or someone from home asked me to make one; it may be my exit ticket. It was definitely not an easy task; every time the vines started to climb up my arms, I had to stop and wait for them to release me. At least, they don't attack themselves, so I will probably be able to utilize it more than once without having to detangle it or wait between each use. I also discovered that I can put the net in my backpack without problems, which is good news. I get up on my feet and take the direction of the part of the arena that I have yet to explore, letting my thoughts roam free in my head.

Now that I have some sort of a plan on how to kill the other tributes, I need to find or make a better weapon and continue to look for water. If I don't locate any by the end of the day, I will give up and rely only on sponsors. I can't go back to the Cornucopia right now; I'm not ready to face the Careers yet. There were no deaths today, which mean that either the Careers were right so they don't bother hunting or that the others are great at hiding. Either way, it's not a good thing for me. A boring day in the Games is never good for anyone. They need action and if we don't deliver, they'll find a way to add some. Hopefully, there was enough during the first two days and they'll be able to wait a little more. If everything goes as planned, they'll have plenty to see.

I had a lot of time to decide of what I want to do and how while making the net. The strangling ability of the vines will be useful to trap someone so I can execute them easily with a knife. Their parents will probably be watching as I slaughter their kids. If I win, I will have to face them during the Victory Tour. Victors are considered courageous, but the parents of the dead tributes also are and it's something that everyone seem to forget. I know I wouldn't be able to look into the eyes of the person who deliberately took my child away from me, the person who is standing where my child should be. I've never seen any parent breaking down in front of the cameras during the Victory Tour. They just stand there, trying to look strong. Maybe they're not allowed to cry; maybe the Capitol is scared that it will make us look like humans instead of stupid little toys that they can kill off as they please. I just don't understand why no one from the Capitol understands that it's not fair. Deep down, they're just like us. We're all the same; except for the part where they don't suffer and that our lives are filled with pain from the moment we're born to the moment where we take our last breath.

The heavy silence of the arena is disturbed for a short moment when the silver parachute hits the ground in front of me. I grab it, expecting the gift to be another piece of food. What is so carefully attached to the piece of cloth is definitely not a food container; it looks more like a water bottle. Only, it can't be that because it's empty and Mags surely wouldn't have sent me an empty one.

"Thank you for the gift." I mumble, still unsure of what I'm supposed to do.

It must have another purpose. Otherwise, it's just wasted money as I don't have anything to put inside. What am I supposed to do with an empty bottle that I can't even fill? Unless...

My mentor must have access to a map of the arena and she probably knows something that I don't. Mags might be trying to tell me that I'm going in the right direction. I start walking faster and faster until I'm basically running. It only takes a few minutes before I finally notice that the forest is slowly clearing up around me. Hopeful, I accelerate the pace. I almost fall on my knees when I see it; in the middle of a field similar to the place where I lost my last ally is a lake. I almost throw myself on the ground, eager to finally drink. I stop myself just in time; I need to test it first. I walk back to the forest and pick up a branch that vaguely looks like an arm to dip it into the water. I just want to be sure that nothing is going to come up and try to bite me if I touch the water. Surprisingly, there doesn't seem to be any hidden traps for once. I don't exactly remember the process to test if the water is drinkable or not, but Mags certainly wouldn't have led me to something that could kill me. I scoop some water with my hands and bring it to my mouth, still unsure of what I should do. The second it touches my lips, I throw it back in the lake, frustrated. I was fooled by the lack of odor, but this water is definitely salty, making it undrinkable. I angrily hit the mild liquid in front of me. 

How could my mentor do this to me? I thought I could trust her!

If Ican't use it to appease my thirst, I could at least use it to wash my hands andget rid of the blood. It's a good thing that today is not as cold as when wefirst arrived, I would never have been able to do this otherwise. I slowlyremove my shirt and throw it on the ground, right beside my backpack. I do thesame with the rest of my clothes, unless my underwear of course. Even if Idon't like the idea that a whole country is seeing me like this, the thought ofbeing covered in the dried blood of someone I used to laugh with seems muchworse. I'm reluctant to the idea of submerging myself in the water; even ifnothing bit the branch, something could be lying at the bottom, waiting for abigger prey. I splash water all over my body, making as little noise aspossible in case there is a tribute not too far from here. I start giggling atthe idea of me dying in my underwear, even if it's far from being funny. It'smessed up that I'm laughing at the possibility of my imminent death but whocares. I'm probably just tired anyway; everything is funny when I'm tired.