The Simpson's Hunger Games

Chapter 31

Lisa:

The weight of the new body makes the branch make a sickening cracking sound. I shut my eyes and try to hold on with an even firmer hold. But sweat makes my palms clammy, and my grip starts to slide. I feel a sharp pain in my ankle and I look down quickly. Nelson -who else could it be- is digging his nails in, and doesn't look up. He's too focused on the ground slipping beneath him to notice anything else. He lets out a tiny squeak from something I can't see and digs in his nails so hard I feel dizzy. I kick uselessly in an attempt to shake him off, but it's obvious that he's not going anywhere. I roll my eyes. It looks like I'll have to get both of us out of this mess. Used to it by now, my mind quickly formulates a plan. I think there's a good chance it'll work out in our favour, which is more than I can say for some of my other plans... Nelson starts to feel like a dead weight now, so I'll have to act fast before my ankle becomes numb from cut-off blood circulation. 

Taking in a long breath to steady myself, I centre my eyes on my goal. Slowly, I let go of the branch with one hand, and bring it up to clasp a small stone nearby. I pick it up, turning it over, and judging it's weight. This is the tricky part. I bring the arm with the stone over the branch, securing myself. Then, I take the remaining hand on the branch behind me to my bag. I undo the clasp, and rummage inside, searching for what I need with the sense of touch. Finally, I find what I want, and grab the branch again, leaving the bag open. I ignore the questions from Nelson, and get to work. I prop myself up on my elbows, supporting myself precariously while I work. The item I got from my bag was rope. It was Terri's. I tie the rope around the stone. Then, I take a hairpin from my hair, and lodge it between the rope and the stone, and twist it so that it becomes a kind of hook. I'm ready for the next stage now. 

I've never been much of a thrower, but I'll have to judge the distance and aim as best as I can. Squinting, I target on another, much smaller branch a little further ahead. When I feel confident enough, I throw the stone away from me, keeping hold of the other end of the rope. Suddenly, I hear a creak in the wood. In horror, I divert my attention away from my current operation, and look at the branch, just in time to see the branch detach itself from the slope and topple down towards the abyss. Me and Nelson both gasp in shock, as the ground speeds up and blurry. The only thing I can do is hold onto the rope like a lifeline. I get painful rope burns, as we gather speed, and I vaguely think in the back of my mind that I didn't know I could scream that loudly. 

However, despite what I think, we don't die. At least for a few more moments anyway. A strong tug on the rope jolts both me and Nelson -still holding onto my ankle- so that we half-hang off the steep slope, metres from the crack in the Earth. I look up, and see a long way up the rope firmly wrapped around the frail branch. 

My mouth opens slightly. I stay still, unable to move for a few seconds. Then, I tie the rope around my wrist, and start to slowly climb up the slope, Nelson being dragged along with me. When the slope gets less steep, Nelson lets go of my ankle (At last), and climbs alongside me. Neither of us say anything, and he's a better climber than me, so he soon goes ahead. I can only hope that he hasn't made me his enemy throughout the recent events. Naturally, he reaches the small branch before me, but doesn't stop, to my relief. He continues to climb to the top, but this time more clumsily, his feet slipping in several places. Finally, I reach the branch, and slowly untie the rope. I regret that decision soon, however. Missing the slight safety of the rope, I nearly fall more times than I can count, and I am frequently clutching the slope face, nails digging into the soil. 

When it becomes flat enough for it to be called a small hill, I begin to walk, at last. I stretch out my limbs, and try to move my fingers, which are stiff from being locked into the same position for too long. I soon catch sight of Nelson, hunched over next to his bag. I glance to the right of him, where there is a pile of vomit. I wrinkle my nose, and try to ignore it when I reach him. To my surprise, I see his eyes are bloodshot and slightly red around the edges. When he notices me, he leaps up, and glares at me. He stomps back the way we came, and I follow him, struggling to keep up. 

As I become used to the feel of walking again, I start to wonder what my brother would say if he knew I was allies with a Career...Then I remember he does know. The whole nation does. A sick feeling in my stomach reminds me that my trouble is enjoyed at my expense by a huge audience. I know what my brother would say to me now. He would be ashamed that his sister had joined forces with the Careers, people that had hurt, possibly killed for all I know, his best friend. Tears well up in my eyes. I should've killed Nelson and Terri on site. But then the logical side of me argues that I would be the one the cannon goes off for, not them in that situation. Both of them are more physically and mentally able to fight then I am, especially that my back is still injured. 

I glare at Nelson's back. I can't stay with him. No matter what happens, he will always try to kill me in the end. I don't know why, but survival seems my only priority right now. 

Hours later, Nelson is finally tired out, and stops to rest. I flop down in an exhausted heap beside him. I take out my water bottle with shaking hands, and pour the water pass my parched lips. I drink more than I probably should, I think regretfully afterwards. Nelson still isn't speaking to me. I'm not going to be the first one to speak, so instead I look into my bag to check my food supplies. Despite with Terri's supplies, I still have less than I originally thought I had. I frown. I'll have to cut back on food even less now. I ration myself a tiny piece of dried fruit, which I chew for a while, the food becoming mushy in my mouth. Meanwhile, Nelson tries and fails to make a fire. He throws his matches down angrily. He huffs, and eats a big hunk of something that could once be described as cured meat. The vegetarian part of me cries out, but I'm not surprised I don't give Nelson a lecture on how the killing of animals is cruel and inhumane, as I once would've. The imprisonment of teenagers and forcing them to kill each other is inhumane. 

We sit in silence in the dim glow of the lanterns, silence washing over me more powerfully than the need to lie in a clean bed, and eat a proper meal. Neither of us want to go to sleep first; fearing that the other might run off, or worse, murder them in their sleep. Finally, Nelson volunteers to take first watch, his invitation for me to sleep, I politely decline. We elapse into silence again. 

Time passes, but I'm not sure how long. I can feel my eyelids getting heavier, and my breathing slows. I try to fight my exhaustion. I can't go to sleep in front of Nelson. I'm already in too much danger. The worst thing I could ever do was to let my family watch me die on live TV. Despite my violent protests, I feel my senses slip into darkness...