Chapter Thirty-Four: Alia Fletson

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Chapter Thirty-Four:

Alia Fletson

As soon as Cato and I arrived back at the cave, we collapsed to the ground, exhausted from the battle at the Feast.

The starvation was also creeping its way back into our systems, only making our bodies weaker and sorer.

 By this point, we were way past the idea of going hunting for food. My arms were practically numb, so my shooting aim would be awful. And Cato wasn’t an archery pro to begin with, so his aim would be even worse. Besides, there were only five of us left: Cato and I, the clever fox-faced girl from District Five, Cyra and Gale. Only one more to go, and I knew that the Gamemakers had come us with some ridiculously cruel plan as to how to end the Games.

I thought of what they had done in the past: turning all the rivers into lava, flesh-eating birds, acid rain, dropping the temperature way below zero, the bombings and fires of this year… it had to be something they had never done before, something that would make all of their previous plans look innocent compared to what they had in store. After all, this was the ‘most interesting year we’ve ever had in the history of the Hunger Games’.

I eventually gave up on trying to predict the Gamemakers’ next move. Whatever it was, I knew it would hit hard without warning.

Just like with the feast. The Gamemakers had been practically inactive up until then. I had to admit, they were clever. They tricked all of us into thinking they weren’t gonna do anything… so when they did, we would be caught completely off guard. I know I didn’t foresee the bombings.

But forget the Gamemakers and their torturous plans. There was something much more important that lingered in the back of my mind…

It doesn’t matter what I say to you at this point, Alia. You’ve lost it. I should’ve known from the beginning that this was going to happen. I mean, you’re Career, after all. You’ve spent your entire life training to slaughter others. Do you even realize how sick that is? You don’t even realize what you’re doing! I know what you’re thinking, that I’m in no position to judge because I don’t have a clue about your life. But if you think that it’s no big deal to just annihilate innocent people, then you’re not as sane as I thought you were.

Cyra, Cyra, Cyra… you think you’re so clever with your words, dontcha? Think you’re so tough because you have the courage to smack-talk the most lethal female tribute of this year’s Games? Think again, Cyra, I am perfectly aware of ‘what I’m doing.’ Not once did I ever prance around the arena declaring my love of killing others. She thinks that just because I want her dead means I enjoyed killing the others? Clearly, she’s unaware of how I felt when I saw Astrana die before my own eyes. It’s one thing for her to die in general… but to have the one I love kill her? That’s a completely different story, one that’s even more tragic.

Well, Cyra Merison doesn’t have a clue about anything. All she knows is that I want her dead. Does she even realize that she’s driven me to the point of insanity? How would that make poor little Fish Girl feel if she knew she was responsible? I had a clear head on my shoulders before she dropped that filthy Tracker Jacker nest on me. When the nest exploded, so did all my years of anger that I had bottled up inside for so long. To the outside world, I seem like a perfectly happy, calm person. But I’ve been screaming on the inside for a very long time. And the Hunger Games has been my perfect place to vent and try and rid myself of all that anger. There were some downsides, though. Like Cyra. She certainly didn’t help to calm me down– she actually made things much worse.

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