Loose Ends

Chapter 13

*back to Katniss pov*

Honestly, my first instinct is to ask myself "what the hell is wrong with this man?" What kind of human being brings a literal net to catch another? Only a piece of trash would do such a thing, and that is exactly what Gale is: gutter trash. As he starts moving towards me, I snap myself out of my thoughts and my survival instincts kick in. I jump onto my feet and ignore the strong throbbing and dizziness I am feeling in my head. I immediately start to run in the opposite direction and naturally, I am faster than the annoying ghost of the past because of my experience in the games.

The arena is almost exactly the same as the one during the 75th Hunger Games. There are only slight differences. There is no source of water and there are no living creatures in sight. The only food I can see is related to plants: berries, etc. Obviously, there are no weapons and the Cornucopia doesn't exist. The only part of the arena which is set up is the landscape. Good thing I know this arena like the back of my hand. I am able to easily traverse through the sand: there is no seawater. I run across the luscious green forests, making sure to keep and eye out for forcefields and praying that Gale hits one.

As I attempt to find a good tree to stay in for a bit whilst I prepare myself for hopefully my final battle with Gale, I grab some items along the way which will help me win. I take wood, stone, vines, leaves, practically anything I can find which will help me craft an item.

My legs start to burn and I decide on a tree before my stomach cramps up. I climb the tree with difficulty, I'm definitely rusty: I haven't needed to climb anything nor have any survival skills in a long time. I shake my head as I realize I am back where I started. I spend the rest of the daylight attempting to make a weapon. I manage to use the wood and vines to make a basic bow, and use the stone and some remain strings of the bark to make a couple of arrows. This set is too simple and I decide to spend at least 30 minutes practicing my aim. It takes me quite a while, but I finally adjust my skills enough to be able to hit my target perfectly.

As it starts to get dark outside, I prepare myself for tomorrow. I reclimb the tree I was sitting in while making my weapons: I had to get down for target practice. I then use multiple weak vines to tie myself to said tree, trying to recall my methods in the games. The last thing I need is for Gale to find me, fallen out of a tree at 2AM, already dead before the fight has started. On top of that, considering his net, I dont think he intends to kill me, only catch me to do, I don't even know what?

I sit on the branch of the tree and rest my back on it's trunk in a half-seated, half laid-down position. I wrap my arms around my bow and arrows, keeping a tight grip on them, as they are my only hope in defeating Gale, who is way buffer than me and carries a net. The moon finally comes out, and although it feels good to see the stars for the first time in a while, I wish it were under better circumstances. I wish this whole situation never happened. Why does my life have to suck so bad? I never get a chance to be happy... No. Now is not the time for self pity. This is the time for strategy, strength and survival, which all comes with energy. In order to have energy, I need sleep, so I decide it's time to doze off.

I adjust my grip on the bow and arrows before finally closing my eyes. Expectedly and unsurprisingly, I just can't seem to fall asleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see myself running from the careers. Everytime I close my eyes, I see Rue's death. Everytime I close my eyes, I see President Snow's rose. Everytime I close my eyes, I see Cinna's death. Everytime I close my eyes I see Peeta hitting the forcefield. Everytime I close my eyes I see Finnick's death. Everytime I close my eyes I see Prim's death. Every. Single. Time. I close my eyes, I experience PTSD, and just can't fall asleep. My trauma will never go away, because my experience in the games will never be forgotten. But it is part of who I am. And in some way, I am proud of who I am. So with that, I accept the PTSD and fall asleep.