Fighter | The Hunger Games

Chapter Eighteen

My family lived comfortably in Seven. We didn't own the nicest furniture or clothes, we didn't always have full plates, but we always had full hearts, and more importantly we worked hard for everything that we did have.

My father dedicated his life to his lumber work in the forest. His job was always considered to be amongst the hardest due to its physical demands and taxing nature. There were multiple times where our family fell ill with strains of influenza or respiratory disease yet my father continued to work much to my mother's dismay. Faith and I would hear them bickering from our bedroom, our mother always scolding him. "Kenny you're being ridiculous! Your health comes first. We will manage without your income for a few days." My father never budged. He always insisted that he would do anything for us- even if that meant exerting himself through illness or injury. Their argument always ended with my father saying "one may go a long way after they are tired."

I wasn't sure if that was foolish or tough. Maybe it was a little bit of both, and maybe that was okay. Life needs a balance anyways; every story has two sides.

The sun rose on the twelfth morning of the Hunger Games and I immediately remembered my father. I was feeling downtrodden, weak, uncertain of my future, but I remembered my father's perseverance and allowed it to inspire me. I could keep going. I could persevere. But I did need help. It was evident from my fits of cold sweats and heat flashes that my body temperature was still climbing with my fever, and it was also evident that I would need an antibiotic to stop my infection from spreading further into my bloodstream. I was operating on borrowed time but I tried to remain hopeful. It was the Hunger Games after all and anything could change within minutes.

Even in my state of exhaustion I tried to enjoy the sunrise. It was artificial of course but that did not take away from its beauty. The sunrise was magnificent in all its glory; the deep reds, glowing oranges, and eventual vibrant yellow lit up my world. It was simply ironic that an ugly arena full of so much darkness and pain could hold something so beautiful. I think the irony of it was what made it mesmerizing.

The sunrise faded and I prepared myself to ration out my breakfast when a booming voice interrupted me. "Attention all tributes!" The announcement echoed throughout the arena. I recognized that voice anywhere- it was Damon Lynx. My nose crinkled at the thought of him but I suppressed my feelings of hatred and stared up to the sky for the announcement. I expected the Gamemakers would throw a curveball sooner than later and it looked like that time was now.

"There will be a feast this evening where the Cornucopia once rested! Each of you desperately needs one item and that item will be waiting for you at dusk in a sack labelled with your district number. I advise you to fight hard and as always may the odds be ever in your favor!" There was a pause of silence before the Anthem blasted throughout the arena and I found myself suddenly aware of the situation. This was my chance. I had to take it.

I inhaled a shaky breath and began to plan my route of attack. In my fragile state it would take me a large amount of time to hike down the mountain and towards the starting platform so it was imperative that I began my descent as soon as possible. My only option was to pack everything I had inside my backpack and take it with me because there was no telling what I would need in order to survive.

I did not waste any time before gently folding each item and shoving it into my backpack. The task proved to be quite difficult with only my right arm intact but I managed to my best ability. After a thorough assessment of my remaining items I knew I would have to somehow acquire more food. That would be a focal point of my trek to the feast.

I wiped my hand across my forehead as I was already beginning to perspire in the morning heat. This was going to be a tough day; the reality of my situation was beginning to settle within me. I first had to manage to make it to the feast. I would then need to somehow acquire my pack against the other four tributes. If by some chance I managed to escape unharmed I would have to hope my bag contained medicine. The entire ordeal was risky and I was not thrilled about potentially having to fight another tribute again either, but I also did not see a more viable option. If I didn't receive medical attention I would die and that was a fact. This was my last hoorah. I could use my last will of energy to at least attempt to save myself or I could use it to lay around. I didn't think my family or Jace, Cecelia, Ezra, and my sponsors would be pleased to watch me slowly die up on a mountain alone. Even if they were wary about me joining the feast they had to know in their hearts that it was my only option.