A Game of Chance [THG Fanfic]

Arena, Day Two (2)

-Mia Elgarven, District Eight-

It has been a while since the careers left- since Rose and Pritt were ruthlessly slaughtered. Soon after, a hovercraft came to pick them up, but I don't remember seeing or hearing it.

At that time, I was in a state of severe shock, unable to do anything but retreat into myself. I was left thinking about the loss of their lives, and how it could have been prevented. How I should have protected them better. I was their ally, after all.

Fat lot of use I was. I was the burden that got them killed. If it was not for me, they could have run. Saved themselves.

But they just had to stay. And I shall have to live the rest of my life knowing that I could have prevented their deaths, told them to go, or something along those lines. I could have chucked a knife at the District One girl. She seemed to be the ringleader in that little gang.

I have wondered countless times why she didn't just kill me, to get us all out of the way. The mad gleam in her eyes told me that she wanted to, but I cannot see why she held out.

Or maybe that is a lie- there can only be a single possible reason for her to spare me.

She is the wolf, and I am her prey. She will chase me for the amusement of it, then let me go. But this will be the calm before the storm. She will strike again when I least expect it. And this time she might not be so lenient. I try to turn my thoughts away from this, but my mind moves onto an equally bad memory, in a different way.

The faces of all the district eight tributes but me in the sky. My fellow allies... all let down by the same person.

Me

Their faces looked down upon me, as if they were taunting me, or blaming me for their deaths. After Rose's picture, the first to appear from our district showed up, I curled into a ball, and refused to carry on looking at them. I stayed in that position for a while.

Since then, I have tried standing, but with no avail. My leg appears to be busted- I remember something that was said in one of the previous games that our district watched before coming into the arena. It was supposed to prepare us, but at the time, it just horrified me. Yet I did pay attention, as the other three were and I wanted to look a confident ally.

Now, I am glad that I paid attention.

The game was in fact the one of the only other recorded Quarter Quell- the one-hundredth Hunger Games. I can even remember the name of the tribute who said the exact sentence that I am thinking about now. The tribute only had one ally, as he was a major target for the Capitol, for had ancestors had been involved in the rebellion. Some people speculated that the tribute had been reaped in on purpose, while others laughed at this idea.

The tribute's name was Daenial Mellark.

I frown, then look down at my leg with dread, his words vibrating round my skull, 'if you can feel pain in your leg, that is a good sign. If not, you've probably severed a couple of crucial nerves. If that is the case, you'd be lucky to last even a week.'

I know now that I have to try and attract sponsors- not only that, but as quick as I can, as well. If by the time a week is up, no medication has come my way, or has been given to me, I might as well just lay down and wait for my death. It would be less painful than continuing.

I have got to try and find help... fast.

A drawn out hiss of agony escapes me as I work my way up to a sitting position. My leg is not the only injured part of my body – plenty of bruises are clearly visible on my arms, and what I can see of my legs.

Gritting my teeth, I begin to drag myself across the ground. Dizziness threatens to overcome me, but I continue, determined to get to cover.

I manage to make my way to the trees at the edge of the clearing before I collapse, unable to go on. I stare at the ground, tears beginning to form in my eyes. I cannot do this anymore.

A crack sounds from behind me, and I freeze, straining to listen. It gets closer, and closer. I close my eyes, hoping for it to be another tribute, or maybe a mutt.

The footsteps stop directly behind me, and, upon hearing a sigh, I relax slightly. There is now no doubt that the creature is another tribute. I keep my eyes shut, hoping that they will make my end quick.

For a while, nothing happens, and my thoughts swirl around my brain rapidly. There is some confusion in my head, but the majority of my thoughts is about my family. I hope that they will be able to survive my death.

Finally, the unseen enemy moves. I brace myself, expecting some form of pain, but it does not come.

Instead, what happens next is so unexpected, that I lie with my eyes wide, too shocked to do anything else.

Whoever is behind me, just prods me, with an object that feels like a stick. I flinch, only a brief movement, but the stick is immediately taken off my back.

Then, the unknown figure puts something on me. Something that I left in the clearing.

The blanket is welcome, but moreover I realise that this is not the important thing here. What is important is that I have just been shown an act of mercy; an act of kindness.

The threatened tears begin to fall, and I struggle to muffle my sobs.

There is another cracking sound as the unseen tribute kneels down, and a hand starts to stroke my hair gently. This reminds me so much of my mother...

The tears begin to fall heavier, and faster. Soon the ground by my head is soaked, and mud coats one side of my face.

But, aside from all of this, I am reassured. Not happy, just reassured.

Even as I start to fall asleep, the other tribute stays with me, still providing the much-needed comfort. I trust them already, but I still do not know the crucial thing.

Who are they?