The Hunger Games: Wroetostar, Merome, Pooflan & Minizerk

⫷Chapter 14⫸

Mitch's P.O.V.

I slept like a log for a solid 12 hours and we spent the second day and the majority of the third gather resources- storing water in the cave, hunting rabbits and squirrels, gathering berries and nuts. I came across a squirrels stash buried in the roots of a tree- jackpot! Several handfuls of assorted nuts that could sustain us for a bit.

Jerome was reluctant to let me do much so, hesitantly, I slung my axe over my back and focused my energy gathering stuff, doing no heavy lifting or exerting myself. The wound on my shoulder could be held closed with a strip of cloth so it didn't bleed, but it was painful. I winced every time I had to move my left arm.

Every couple of hours Jerome came and checked the cut, making sure it wasn't getting infected. He was really worried about me and I knew he had a good reason to be so, so I never complained. He had been overprotective since we were kids, I knew what he was like.

We slept in the cave again on the second night and the third day dawned crisp and clear- my breath turning to mist as we stepped out into the open air. Jerome sighed, it clearly reminded him of getting up early in the morning to go into the forest with me to chop lumber. It was strangely comforting.

"Ready?" He whispered after a moment of silence, standing side by side.

"I'm ready."

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The first part of the third day passed much the same way as the second, hunting animals and gathering everything we could. We risked a small fire just before dawn to cook the two rabbits we had killed, using wood that wouldn't create smoke so we could lower the risk. No one came.

It was about noon that I started to feel off, getting dizzy whenever I stood up, pale and faint and it didn't take long for Jerome to notice. I had stood up from sitting on some tree roots and stumbled, almost hitting the ground again but I somehow managed to stay on my feet.

"Mitch?" Jerome asked quietly, his hand on my arm to steady me. "You alright?"

"Feeling... feeling faint." I breathed, sinking down to my knees because I knew I couldn't stay on my feet.

"Shit Mitch-" He hissed, his arm moving to clutch my waist.

The second I was sitting on the ground Jerome moved to unwrap the bandages around my shoulder, going pale when he looked at the wound. He had checked on it only a couple of hours earlier, that morning, so something had clearly gone very wrong, very fast for him to be giving me that look.

"God Mitch- shit, this is bad."

"What is it." I mumbled, not even wanting to look up to see the gash.

"It's... it's infected, really bad." He was pale. "I think it's blood poisoning."

My heart almost at once sank into my chest because I knew that if there were signs of it, then it was already too far gone to be treated with what we had in the arena. It would need antibiotics- expensive Capitol antibiotics that would never be able to be afforded, even if we had sponsors. It might only be the third day, but it would cost an exorbitant amount and I knew I wouldn't get it.

There was nothing we could do and likely, I didn't want to think about it, the infection would spread and slowly kill me. Jerome saw my look and almost burst into tears because he knew the same things I did.

"Please Mitch." He begged. "You'll be okay. You'll live."

I knew it was false hope.

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Jerome practically carried me back to the cave, I was too weak and shaken to walk on my own and the second we were back I collapsed to my knees. It was a strange feeling, knowing I was dying slowly and there was nothing I or anyone else could do about it. I thought that if I died in the Hunger Games it would be quick, not days of wasting away in a cave from an infection.

It only took a couple of hours for any hope I might have had to fade away, because the infection took hold fast and made my arm and shoulder swell. I was in constant pain and by the evening I could barely move, resting on my side with a blank stare at the wall. Jerome sat beside me, his breathing stuttering as he cried.

I watched the sunset from my vantage point and it was barely a few minutes before I expected the anthem to play that trumpets started blaring. Jerome shot upright, bolting to the door.

"Ladies and gentleman!" Caesar Flickerman's eccentric voice echoed through the arena, catching my attention. "We have an announcement! Tomorrow morning, there shall be a feast! We know that many of you desperately need something to stay alive and that will be at the Cornucopia at dawn! Think about it, because some of you... need it."

I saw the look on Jerome's face switched from confused to interested to determined and I forced myself to sit up, whimpering in pain.

"Jerome, no." I pleaded, hissing in pain. "Don't- don't even think about it."

"Mitch, I have to." He whispered, cupping my cheek. "I'm not about to lose you."

I began to cry because I knew there was no talking him out of it, he was going to go to that feast tomorrow to get that medicine and there was nothing I could do to convince him otherwise.

"Please..." I begged, tears slipping down my cheeks. "Jerome, I can't lose you either!"

His arms settled around my waist, my head falling onto his shoulder as I cried. I didn't want to lose him, I didn't want him to go because I knew that if he died at the feast then I would die a slow and painful death in the cave from the blood poisoning. If I were to die then I wanted it to be with him.

"Mitch I wanted you to win and I'm not about to give away this opportunity to save you. Please, understand that this is for you."

"It's not for me if you die trying!" I sobbed, hitting his chest in frustration.

"Mitch please-" His voice faltered. "I don't want you to hate me for this."

And then he kissed me.

My heart practically stopped when he pressed his lips up against mine, stifling my quiet sobs. His hands gripped tighter at my sides and I could tell it was both a kiss of desperation and passion- something he had held in for far to long. It shocked me out of my crying.

"Please Mitch. I know you don't want to lose me but I have to risk it. This is to save you." He pushed a strand of hair off my forehead. "As much as I don't want to do it... just know that I love you."

He took a backpack from my side and a knife, leaving me with most of the food and water, a weapon and the sleeping bag, and he left.

I cried.

"I love you too..."

But no one replied.