Too Clever

Chapter 14

I awake the next morning with the blanket still over top of me and blink a few times, blinded by the morning sun. Judging from the sun's position in the sky, it must be about ten o'clock. Good. I needed a decent amount of sleep.
I vaguely remember a dream I had last night. Nora was leading me through the woods, telling me about school and her friends, although I can't remember exactly what she was saying. The woods were actually the arena, but it seemed very peaceful. The sunlight was dim, shining through the boughs, and the iridescent leaves shown a vibrant green. Sunlight reflected off the lake and the Cornucopia. There was a deer I think, walking elegantly across our path, as if it wasn't afraid of us, it's white spots vibrant in the sun. And then for some reason, the dream shifted and Nora and I were in our house, but I can't remember what we were doing. That's all I remember about the dream, but it gives me a sense of calmness, something I haven't experienced yet in the Games. I actually smile slightly, unable to help it. I can imagine what the commentators must be saying right now if I happen to be on screen. The idea gives me a sort of twisted pleasure I can't explain.
For breakfast, I eat two of the oranges I snagged from the Cornucopia last night. The orange floods with flavor in my mouth, taking me back to only a few days ago when I was gorging myself with the rich tasting foods of the Capitol.
It's the third day of the Games, and about half of us are already dead. I don't really know what else I could be doing right now besides just sitting here and passing the time, so I decide to distract myself with counting off which tributes are left. Both from District 1, both from 2, and the girl from 4 remain, so that's five Careers. Then there are Katniss and Peeta and Thresh and Rue. There's also the boy from 3 and—
"No! We'll split all of it!" I hear someone shout. I whip my head around in all directions, but no one is within range. The shout came from the direction of the Cornucopia, so I creep over to the tree line and can just make out the Careers. Cato must have been the one shouting.
"But shouldn't we save some of it? We still have to go hunting tonight," argues the Marvel, the boy from 1, flaring his arms out.
"Marvel!" shouts Cato, his nostrils flaring and his muscles tight and rigid. "Stop arguing. We still have all of the food in the Cornucopia. We can just get more. We're literally standing ten feet away from it!"
"Well yeah, but we still have the whole rest of the Games, and what about—"
"Yeah, we do still have the whole rest of the Games, and I can take that time away from you in a second if that's what it takes to shut you up," Cato threatens, balling up his fists in what seems like an attempt to keep his cool. "We're in the Hunger Games, remember? And just know that I am not afraid to use that to my advantage." Maybe Cato isn't quite right. There's something about him that suggests he's not entirely there. The way he gets angry over the littlest things, the fact that he has to fight his own self to stay calm. One of these days in the arena, he's going to lose his head, and when he does, I certainly hope I'm no where within a fifty-yard radius.
Since I risk getting spotted and it's of no value to listen to the Careers' argument, I turn around and head back to my little spot in the trees. I drink some of my water, but not a lot, as the Careers probably won't leave to go hunting until tonight and the lake is currently my only water source.
I sit back against a rock and take out my hair, which had been in the same two buns since I left the Capital. I brush it out with my fingers, pulling them through the red, tangled mess of knots, and braid it down my back. I run my fingers over it and feel how messy and bumpy it is, so I redo it. The end result is no better than the first, so I eventually give up and end up sticking it in a ponytail. I was never good at hair. That was Nora's thing, not mine.
     She used to French and Dutch braid my hair all the time back home. I remember I used to sit on the floor while she would sit on the couch in our tiny living room and I would let her do anything she wanted with my hair. I even started to let her do my hair for school. I can't put in to words how much I wish we could be doing that together right now.
     It's funny, I always took those little moments for granted. But now as I look back on what I had before the Games, I realize what good of a life I really did have. Compare it to the lives of people living in 11 or 12, and it proves just how lucky I was, although I didn't have it nearly as good as the people of the Career districts, and their lives still aren't a walk in the park. I never realized how good I had it until now when it's a thing of the past. People always say that you don't know what you've got until it's gone, and it's proving to be true.
     I fight to stay strong in case I happen to be on camera at the moment, but memories of Nora is just too much to handle right now. I've been distracted and haven't had the time yet to grieve the past, and now, all my emotions come spilling out all at once like a dam exploding in a river.
     Tears come pouring down my face, and I try to assuage the noises coming from deep within my throat, which causes a mild case of the hiccups. I cry from sadness, anger, fear. After about fifteen minutes, the crying becomes a whimper and tears are no longer streaming out of my eyes. I wipe my runny nose with a leaf on the ground and notice a small bush of tiny leaves right next to it. Mint leaves.
     I almost forget about my breakdown and begin stripping the bush bare. Anything to distract myself from memories of the past. Then I take an orange and peal it, carefully forming the shape of a small bowl with the skin, and set it on a rock nearby along with the pile of mint leaves.
     I take all my stuff—which is not much—and move further into the forest to distance myself from the Careers.
     Once I've set everything down, I dig through a small area of about a square foot and make sure there are no dead leaves around; they will burn and create extra smoke.
     I gather five sticks nearby and snap a few of them to make them the same size and place them in a pyramid-like structure in the patch of dirt I cleared.
     To boil the water, I take two dry twigs and and begin to rub them back and forth against each other, trying to coax a flame. If I use any greens, or moist tree branches, then the water will evaporate from the heat and create steam, or more smoke, which might then be visible to the Careers or any other tribute nearby.
     I continue to rub the sticks together until a small wisp of smoke is visible only to my eyes, then a little bit more until a flame is created. I carefully set the sticks down in the area I cleared of leaves earlier right underneath the pyramid of sticks I built. The fire is very small, so no one will see the smoke unless they are very close by, which is unlikely; I'm sitting here distracted and unarmed. If someone around here wanted to kill me, they'd have done it already.
     I take the orange skin bowl I made earlier, pour some water into it, and set it on top of the pyramid.
     After a couple of minutes, the water begins to heat up, and I throw in a few of the mint leaves to make it into a tea of sorts. I also add some pine needles into the mix for more flavor like I remember seeing a tribute do in a past Hunger Games.
     A few more minutes later, I take the water off of the pyramid and place it on the ground near my stuff. Then I throw the sticks back onto the ground near a tree and bat out the flames with my blanket.
I make a meal of oranges, beef strips, and tea. An idea comes to mind, and I take an orange and squeeze it over my tea to give it just the right amount of sweetness. This is the best meal I've had since I've been in the arena.
Judging by the sun's position, it's around ten in the morning. For the rest of the day, all I do is sit and wait until the sun goes down so I can poke around the Cornucopia again, trying to occupy myself with a memory game I made up in my head. I was going to draw in the dirt, but I figured that if I desert this area, someone will know that another tribute was here. I keep my eyes out for any other tributes, but it seems to be an uneventful day so far.
     Until I see the smoke arise from the tree tops.