Break The Rules But Be Smart About It: The Second Quarter quell

Chapter eight

I can't think of time right now.

Fauna, dead. The rain is slamming on me, and so is the guilt that I am feeling. The lightning is so loud and boastful. Fauna is dead. And I left her to be alone. I left her to die with Maysilee, the least capable human ever to deal with Faunas death or any death for the matter, and I left her. I went to Fauna to have her last moments by herself. I let her. I sprint away from what just happened in anger and fury—tears of anger at myself and jack run thing my cheeks emotionally. I dig my knives to the rock and reach the top of the cliff, taking out all of my anger on the stones, and several times I almost cut myself, not even paying attention to the wrongdoings of myself. My family did not raise me to be this way; Alma never told me to do this. This is all me. The anger rises, and I can't bear the thoughts of the events that just took place.

Fauna is dead.

I bang my knife one by one into the rock as the pounding heavy droplets crash on me. I can feel each one smash across my shirt. My entire body soaked, and my brain soaked in anger and rage. I push myself, and I Arrive at the top. All my eyes can see it is an everglade—miles upon miles of mudded water and greens. My body sinks into the transparent clear mud-like water. I fall halfway, 50% of my body smudged into the liquid. This journey hs left me with a backpack and three knives to make me survive this journey on hand. The most useful thing I have is a watch and fishhooks.

The things I could use most, won't the capitol send me weapons, more of that would be useful, to my doing. Looking around, I hope something will strangle me or kill me. Something, I will instead be killed by a natural cause than by a tribute here in the arena, that would make me look weak, and I couldn't do that. I cannot see any living thing by sight except a few flies buzzing around my face and me. I smell awful. I have been used to the capitol scent and perfume Heather and Karma would make us wear. I probably smell normal to GranGran and the hob, but that's not relevant. The mud is oddly quite soothing and feels almost identical to the pudding gran used to make for me as a boy. Gran and Amy were close friends; GranGran taught Amy and me how to make the vanilla pudding out of no ingredients that included vanilla. We have nothing, but she tried. And frankly, it tasted like vanilla, my favorite flavor, I think... I had chocolate in the capital, but that left no mark in my brain... strawberry is too common and too vibrant and happy for my liking.. and anything that has pieces of candy in it is horrible... I wouldn't say I like ice cream that carries other things in it. What's the point... I like ice cream, and that's not ice cream and candy, just icecream...

My thoughts retrace to Fauna and her bloody, gruesome death that she did not know to deserve. Nobody deserves to die, but there is a proper way to die if that makes sense. At least in twelve, they Barrie the body with flowers. No casket, we couldn't afford that. They Barrie the body with Flowers and speeches are given, folk songs are sung, and off we go. We mourn with the family and bring a food dish if we can afford one, but if we can't afford to bring food, we arrive with handwritten cards and maybe a song passed down from our family. Usually, in twelve, we will sing the classic hanging tree or something ancient. Fauna died alone, Maysilee carrying her in her arms as I left. Her family. What could they think of me? Throughout this, if I win, hopefully not, but if I do, how will I ever face them. I try to keep my mind off her death and the Grief.

I try not to focus my mind on death before I experience my own any second now. Hopefully, I die soon out of exhaustion or a heat stroke. Something simple and not caused by a tribute will do me justice. I don't want one soul with me. Leave me to drown for what I care about. Kill me now! I wish I could tell the game makers, but they wouldn't kill me at this second.

I slow down, making sure nobody is around my perimeter. I've been trailing through the water fast, but I take it slower, considering nothing spicy is going on at the moment—a mile in this everglade of going through this awkwardly smooth liquid. I see a movement in the liquid. A swoosh, almost wing-like but way too harsh to ever be wind. Most likely a turtle, hopefully, something I can eat in the future. I am starving. I close my eyes and listen for sounds I cant see through the water, so my senses are my only option.