The End of Innocence: The 72nd Annual Hunger Games

Survivors

My first instinct was to attack Lesa. Ion is dying. She hasn't much life left. She probably won't survive the night. I try stand up but slide against the cold wall of The Cornucopia. I stare blankly at her, tears flow down her face, she stares at what damage she's done. "I'm so sorry." The words ring through my ears, flashes of light come in front of my eyes, which makes me trying to stand up extremely difficult. This is all too much.

"I'm so sorry."

My eyes dart to Ion. Her breathing's going back to normal again, she keeps licking her lips, which then make them more chapped. "Water." I say to myself, this makes Lesa jump to get my bag, but I stand on one leg and push her away which makes her fall into the other box I knocked over. If it wasn't under the circumstances, she would have got up and pushed me back, but instead she's letting herself get pushed around by someone who's younger than her. Her eyebrows push together, the same way Greyson did when he was watching Ion slice his sister's neck open. The tears wouldn't be noticeable in the cameras, it'd be only noticeable as rain. 

She stands back up and crosses her arms. "I thought she was Cleeara... Same build yanno?"

"It was an accident."

Ion seems to have given up. Despite the fact she's sweating like crazy, sometimes uncontrollable shaking, she seems okay, she might survive because of the cream and rubbing alcohol. I get the bottle of water and take a gulp out of it for me, then I sit Ion up and let her drink some. Despite her eyes closed, she drinks it and tries to drink more, moving her head more towards the bottle, but we're running low. I take more of the cream and rub it on her wound from her wrist to where her elbow bends. I take the hand which is injured and squeeze her palm. She squeezes it back in a normal response. So the nerves aren't dead. She's responding, just isn't opening her eyes.

"Max listen to me." Lesa begs from the mouth of The Cornucopia. "We're sitting ducks, do you remember that we just attacked The Career camp? They're going to kill us, and they're not going to do it quickly. If they find us, they're going to make sure the audience knows who's in charge."

I look back at her. She's standing up with her machete in one hand and her bag in the other. "I am not going anywhere until she's better." I reply.

"We can carry her."

"I'm not carrying her. My legs injured and she's almost dead, you didn't get a single scratch on you. We need to wait until morning. We all need to sleep. I haven't at all. Are you aware I've been injured more than you since we got here?" I stand up despite the pain, I need her to show I'm still capable. "- and you're not going anywhere so you can drop your bag and your machete. If YOU done this to Ion, YOU can take care of her."

"It was an accident." She repeats for the fiftieth time. "I told you she ran into me, it was an accident. She needs to know that."

I laugh sarcastically. That's very ironic actually, she created the problem and now she wants to run away from it. I do pity her, I do believe it was a genuine accident, but I can't do this. Neither can she. "We need to stay put." Lesa drops the bag and the machete and comes over. Fear is all over her. 

"Ion I am so sorry." She says, stroking her hair.

Ion's still knocked out but her fingernails drag against the floor in a repeated motion. I look over at Lesa and, for the first time ever, she has a look of sympathy in her eyes. She holds her hand and rubs it. "I really thought you were Cleeara."

"Let her rest." I snap. I give her the vilest, dirtiest look I ever gave everyone. Her eyebrows press against each other and she lies back against the wall of The Cornucopia in defeat. I lie beside Ion, I look at my foot and the wound has almost completely closed. District 3, I salute you. I look at Ion's wrist too, it's not as healed as mine, but it isn't dark purple anymore. No more bleeding. I'm parched which means she is too.