Writer's Games Entries

Task 4: "The Witches"

Note: Due to some confusion with the extension, I was forced to hand in my first draft instead of an edited one.

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On a happy note, me being a witch was just a dream. I didn't just skip eighty years and become this messenger of death that the Plague-Hag was back in the 1300s in Norway. I don't even know what that dream was all about, but now I want to stay on the move. No way I'm going to let any sort of gas put me to sleep again. Before you know it, I'll actually wake up as a witch and dream I'm young...huff, no, I feel happy to be young and alive (for now).

I don't know if I truly understand these Games. The only normal thing that I have experienced so far is the bloodbath. I haven't really seen any of the other tributes since then, people die ever now and then. Are they forgetting how to breathe, or can't they handle the pressure? I didn't think I would, yet here I am (that self-confidence though). Back to my strategy however, I am not going to stick around in this house anymore. Who knows, this house could be haunted and I just invited the ghosts into my dreams a few hours ago. I am not going to have that again.

The only good thing about this house, is that I find stuff I can use, like a knife or a hammer to beat anyone crossing my path (it won't end well, so just stay away please). I also find lots of food that was just left on the table as if the people living here were in a hurry. I collect what I can find until I figure I have to start moving. I've spent more than enough time here and I don't want to make myself a target to just drop dead like I feel like many tributes already have. Some of them unexpectedly because I thought they would stay alive a lot longer than they have, others more expectedly. The bigger surprised to me is how nobody has come after me yet.

I'm going to have to eat those words the moment I step outside the door of the house I've taken refuge in. Past the Shakespearean houses, I can make out a giant, think fog coming towards me. I'm no stranger to fogs. In fact, I find them rather enjoyable when hiking. I like being surprised by what the nature beyond my line of sight has to offer. I'm not so sure I am going to enjoy what this fog has to bring. I don't even know what that is, but I already know that I won't. The fog reaches me eventually, and my heart-beat is raising because of how thick the fog is, but even more so when it disappears in the blink of an eye.

"Ka faen," those are first two words to appear in my head, which I also let the whole world know of, when I open my eyes again. "Hello, child," I have to puke. I really want to, need to throw up. What the hell is that? Looks like three women, old, witchy women if I should point that out, but they look even uglier than I did as the Plague-Hag (and that takes a lot). "This has to be another dream," I let out eventually. "Seriously, I did the whole witch-thing, I don't need to do it again..." I continue as I look at them for a moment, squirming on the inside because no person should ever look like that. I guess the only comfort is that I am not the witches...I just have to look at them.

"Oh, dear child, we are not witches," one of them goes. "Dokkar ser no ut som det," I let out to myself. "We are here to deliver three of your future fates," the other one continues. Fate, really? I almost want to burst out laughing and that's not the kind of reaction you'd probably expect from someone facing three hideous-looking witches like these three (but given my recent experiences I'm a lot calmer than I should be). "Okay," I let out with a rather confused look on my face I'm sure. "And how is it that you know what my future holds," I ask them skeptically after a while. "We are Fate. We have already spun out your life and your future is already determined," the third one finally speaks.

"Well, then, as you apparently have the answers to everything, how about you tell me this – am I going to survive these Games" I ask rather nonchalantly. I'm not actually expecting them to have an answer to that, but they do. "Yes," the one who spoke first takes the word again. "Excuse me," I ask, almost not sure that I heard them right. "You will live. You will win these Games and go home to that peaceful city that you call home. You'll see your parents, your mountains and fellow hikers...you'll be at home," she answers.