the 1000th annual hunger games

Chapter 49: Back in the District

The darkness wasn't as lonely and well, dark as before. I heard noises. And sounds. Like the sound of people, birds or trains whooshing by. At some parts, images raged my mind, like I'd just died. Not necessarily images of my life, just things. Maybe somebody else's life.  Maybe I am someone else.  Maybe that someone else died with my soul inside. Okay, this is just confusing.  I get up and look around.  I'm laying on a street, a plain brown brick street. Brown building lay behind me and several people, withered down and worn. Grains grow in large crops  nearby. People, ranging from young and old carry bales of wheat to a large cargo train. Farmers harvest the grains from the crops. Wrinkles show on the faces of many woman and men. Although, one of the first things I notice is that Zap isn't with me. They seriously separated us. Really? He's a wolf, goddamn it.  I slowly stand myself up. It looks like a city I'd only seen on T.V. District 9.  An old woman wearing brown worn and ripped clothes walks up to me. 

" Aren't you little slacker going to help the harvest or what?"  She shakily snarls.  

"I, uh, sure." I stutter not knowing what to say. 

"Merchant's kids. Oh so spoiled." I hear her grumble after walking away.  Carrying my bag and weapons I head out to the fields.  Using my dagger, I loosen some of the bright golden grains. Most of the people are darkly tanned from working in the fields all day. I harvest grain until I can't hold anymore.  A tanned teenage boy wear denim overalls and a hat made of straw trudges over to me. 

"Hey. You're new around these parts, ain't ya?" He says with a throaty accent. His dull blue eyes bore into mine. Acne dots a few various places around his face, which doesn't surprise me. He flips his dark brown hair. 

"Yeah. First harvest day in these parts." I say mimicking him. And I'm really not lying either, so I've done no bad.

"The northern parts must do it a different way then. Take your wheat to the bale maker over by the south-Eastern edge of the crops. " He says, pointing to an old man, covered in dirt. Grey hair peaks from his straw hat. I trudge through the fields to the man, or Bale-maker, as the teen told me.  In district fifteen, we celebrate if we've lived to an old age, which is very rare unless you're a rich man, which almost no one is.  

" 'Ello, young lady. I 'aven't seen y'all around, so y'all new 'round these parts." The old man says with a thicker accent than the teens.  

"Um.. yeah." I hand him my wheat and head back in the fields, not stopping to see him make a bale. In district Fifteen, our Harvest day is right after the games finish, so we can be happy that we can let loose to forget our children's death, and letting a bit loose to forget our everyday problems, just to wake up to them again the next day.  I harvest more grains and as well hold a conversation with the boy.  I learn that his name is Elk and he was born and raised in this settlement of District Nine. Apparently, we're  on the far southern outskirts of Nine. Maybe I can escape the Games and live in District 9. Maybe that's the Capitol's plans.  As the morning hours tick away, I get hopeful and more hopeful. Then, of course, I hear the cannon. Seriously? They hosted the Games in District 9? That's SO bright and creative. And not to mention, totally safe for the citizens of Nine. Note my sarcasm, if you haven't already. 

"Aw man, they must've killed Daisy today" Elk says, looking wistfully into the horizon, which is a light blue, being the middle of the day.

"Daisy?" I ask, finishing up cutting a piece of grain.

"My little sissy. She 'as a mental  problem. Steals grain and makes into flour 'or sellin' at the market. I knew they 'ere gonna shoot 'er." Elk says, accent making it hard to understand. 

"Oh. I'm sorry, Elk." I say, patting his shoulder. A shock fly's through my body. For a second, Elk looks like a blue air-computer, micro chips flowing through out him.

"Whoa. What was that?" I say. Elk puts on a confused look as a cannon goes off in the distance.

"A gunshot? What never heard one, Princess?" He coldly says.

"No, something else. You know what, never mind it." I quickly say, putting a fake smile on.  I continue working, as multiple cannons go off. I honestly don't know the shock's origins, so just make sure what I saw and felt was true, I elbow him. The light blue micro-chips appear again and the shock fills my body. Elk is a hologram. Or at least, that's the best I can figure with it. Maybe the others are holograms too. I take the wheat I have and take it to the Bale maker.  

"Hello, darling." He says. I hand him the wheat and shake his hand. The shock goes through my body and the micro chips appear. Then the people definitely must be holograms, I stalk off into the town.  It overlooks outside the district, dare I not go. Or dare do I? Being myself, I stalk out of the District and walk until about four o'clock.  I slouch up against a tree and realize how hungry I am. I look in my bag and find the apple. The wild flowers smell of sweet natural scents I haven't smelt in months. I take a bite out of it before I hear a growling sound. I'm caught off guard, hoping it's not a wild dog, which in my case, It likely is. My dagger is out, as I'm slouching against tree, stuck on something holding me back to the tree. I tug at back of my jacket, hoping to free myself, but failing. My only choice is to accept my death. The thing lunges at me. Through the blur that I see, Hawk, or someone who looks like Hawk is the one about to attack. My vision blurs and I feel pain. Noises filter jaggedly through my brain. A headache begins to occur. A light blob  lunges violently at Hawk, throwing him away from me. My headache worsens to the point where I can't move. All my scars, wounds and aches burn fiercely, yet there is no fire. Night takes over the light sky. Soon the anthem goes off,  dead tribute's heads making the stars look pastel. 

"Who saved me from dying today?" I wonder aloud, hurting my skull. 

"I did." I hear a voice as my eyes fail my brain, leaving nothing in sight.  I no longer smell the beautiful wild flowers. I think of father at home, knowing who saved his daughter. Vitale knowing I'm alive, but not well. The anger from District 9, knowing that they made fun of their district, setting examples of how it should be. Maybe an uprising rose there, freeing a district away from pain. Or just killing everybody off. Either or. 

"W-who a-r-r-r-re ou" I shakily stutter as my voice begins to fail me.  My body falls utterly numb, as I feel  nothing around me.

"I am-" The male voice starts as my hearing worsens and the darkness surrounding me shallows me whole.