The Silence of the Tribute

Fifth Entry

I slip my sweater on over my shirt.

The cold air nips at my nose and ears.

I have never seen snow before. I have never really thought about snow. It's so cold.

I bound through the fallen water, trying to find a hiding place.

I see tributes far off in the distance. I turn away from them.

A tingling in my head begins. Soon it grows into a ring.

I stop walking and cover my ears trying to block the sound. What is this?!

Then all-of-a-sudden it stops. I drop to my knees in relief.

"I wonder how many tributes are left." "Wow it's cold." "The capitol must have been bored with us." "I need to win, I need to get home." "Mother, I hope she's okay."

I stand up, whipping my knife out. I turn slowly to fight the tribute who has been talking.

I flip around and no one is there.

"Someone is over there, I better stay away." "Blood." "I need to win."

The voices are in my head. I concentrate on what they're saying, and realise they are the voices of the different tributes.

I can hear what they're thinking.

I run trying to drown their voices from my head. I begin to see blood on the ground, and I follow it.

I need to kill these tributes so they shut up.

Within seconds I come across the bleeding soul. He flips around to face me.

It's Marshal again.

"Blood." "Mother." "Girl from tunnel." "Ow." "Pine needles."

He's weak, and I crouch down in front of him. I raise my knife to kill him. I hesitate, listening to his thoughts.

"Death." "Mother." "Home." "Knife." "Ow." "Blood." "Coming home." "Pine needles."

Out of nowhere he reaches up, grabs a hold of my hand, and plunges the knife into his chest.

"Death. Home. Death. Home. Thank you. Death. Home. Death. Home."

He coughs up blood as I rip the knife back out of him. Blood pours from the room.

"I'm so sorry." I whisper. His cannon goes off.

"Death?" "Someone's dead." "Who killed who?!" "Cannon."

A few tears run down my dirty face leaving streaks.

My first kill.

A parachute lands in from of me. I open it and there's a note from Xavier. Marshall would have loved to have this. Use it with honor.

I unveil my present, and an axe lies inside. I clean my knife in the snow, and put it in my sack. I grip the axe with new found hope.

I back away from Marshall's lifeless body.

I back away from my innocence.

I back away from my youth.

I run towards the end.

I run towards the unknown.

I run towards my future, whatever that is.

I am my own hero. It's taken me way to long to realise this, but this epiphany has opened my eyes.

Now the only question I must answer is this: who will stop me?

I will go home. I will live. I will be the victor.

***
Sorry had to update again. I am sorry if I have angered, or upset anyone with what I had previously wrote. I guess I was clueless of  what I've done. I completely apologize.