The Boy from One

Chapter Eighteen: A Plan

The next day, I'm able to walk about. Cato and Clove go hunting whilst I go and practice throwing my spear. 

Every time it thuds into the ground, I imagine it's Katniss Everdeen I'm killing. I can imagine my spear sliding effortlessly into her chest...it will make her pay for killing Marina...

I turn and march up to Alvis giving him my spear, "Take this. I'm going for a walk."

"Without your spear."

"Yep."

"Marvel! Are you crazy?" he yells back at me as I head towards the woods. I don't answer and carry on walking. 

I've never been so consumed with hate like this before. The rational side of me tries to tell me that I barely knew Marina and that she had to die anyway if I was going to win. But the other domineering side, the proud side of me that has been instilled in me my entire life in District One argues that Marina and Glimmer's murders cannot go unchallenged. 

To win the Hunger Games, I must kill Katniss Everdeen. I have no other option. 

I walk through the woods until the camp is out of sight and sit on a log, with only my dark thoughts for company. I know I've changed. I'm not the scared awkward Marvel who just obeyed his mother and went with the flow. I'm stronger, tougher now. I feel more powerful. Hell, I could even take down Cato if I needed to. 

I sigh. The Hunger Games has changed me. So much so, that right now, I only feel anger. 

I drum my fingers against the log. I need a plan. Katniss Everdeen is an anomaly and there's no telling what she might do next. And I want to take her on alone. If me, Clove and Cato took her on at once, any one of us would be able to kill her. 

I want to take her on myself. To have the satisfaction that it was I, and I alone, who killed Katniss Everdeen, the enigma of the 74th Hunger Games. 

I get up and am about to begin pacing, when suddenly I freeze. Voices are coming in my direction-and they're not ones I recognise. 

Cursing the fact that I'd been too angry to even take a spear with me, I throw myself next to the log. The voices get closer. 

They're two female voices-I recognise one to be Katniss's now and they walk past my log. I let out a sigh of relief when they're about to leave the clearing, but suddenly they stop. 

I tense, worried. I'm stronger than Katniss-if it came to fist-by-fist combat, I could probably take her easily.  But with no idea who her companion is, I probably shouldn't risk it. Instead, I just try and keep as still as I can to hear if they come in my direction. 

But then the only sound is the other girl crying and it occurs to me that they might have stopped to camp. 

I lift my head up slightly to see Katniss hugging the other girl. I smirk when I see that it's the one from District Eleven. Not a threat after all. 

I recognise to be in District Eleven. The girl has tears in her eyes and Katniss is consoling her. The girl is clutching Katniss' shirt, in a way that painfully reminds me of Sparkle when she is crying. 

I almost feel sorry for her but then this new side of me takes over. Katniss has someone she cares about. Meaning, she has a weakness I can exploit. A weakness I can use to get to her. 

As they continue on their journey away from me, for some reason, I think back to the note Sparkle gave me-the one I got rid of on the train. 

'Show them that you aren't just a mindless killer'   it'd said. By killing this girl, I'd be hurting Katniss emotionally before killing her too, which means the kill wouldn't exactly be mindless. It'd be planned out and ingenious. And the perfect way to avenge Marina. 

I smile to myself as I get out of my hiding place and head back to camp. 

Later that evening, I go hunting with Clove and Cato. It's clear from their expressions that I'm now a third-wheel. Part of me would have cared before. I would have cared that despite my best efforts to make allies with Clove, she's now forgotten all about me and only cares about Cato. 

But that doesn't bother me now. I no longer care about them. They're just allies. Allies who I will soon desert because the number of tributes in this arena is thinning and they will turn on me sooner or later. 

We come across a boy with a limp, a boy I recognise to be from District 10. Cato lets me do this kill. 

I stab the boy in the stomach, then slowly draw it out again, prolonging his agony. The boy pleads and his eyes stare into mine. But I no longer care. Something has died inside me and I stare back coldly until he sinks to the ground, dead. 

His cannon sounds and a voice in my head says '15 down, 8 to go.'