Safe and Sound

Chapter Eight - The Bloodbath

That night, Effie, Haymitch, Grayson and I ate our last dinner together before the Games. After my flaming performance, Effie and Haymitch had been insisting that I was going to get many sponsors and that I was a star among the other tributes. Poor Grayson didn't get as much praise, but he didn't seem to mind. It was as if he didn't want the attention. I hadn't watched his interview. I wanted to know what had happened. Had something gone wrong or not as planned? I made eye contact with him, but he looked away instantly. I wasn't technically his friend, but that didn't stop me from feeling slightly worried about the boy.

After we had all had our fill of food, Grayson and I bid Haymitch and Effie goodnight. Haymitch reached out to us before we had a chance to leave.

"I want the two of you to fight through this. I know this sounds rather stupid, but I am going to give you the most important advice I can give you when you're in the arena," He said, looking at the two of us dead in the eye. Grayson and I exchanged glances quickly, "Stay alive. May the odds be ever in your favour. Get a good night's sleep and may we hope luck is on your side."

With that, Effie whisked us along the corridors to our bedrooms. I gave Grayson one last nod, knowing that tomorrow, I would be set out to kill him. I entered my room and changed into a plain shirt and a pair of shorts. I took out the braid Cinna had made, tied the ribbon around my wrist and put the mockingjay feathers on my bedside table. I put my hair into a simple ponytail for sleeping in, before I climbed into bed and tried my hardest to get to sleep, but sadly, to no avail. The thoughts of the horrific Games and arena that I was going to be thrown into the next day swirled around my head, keeping me very much awake and not able to get the precious sleep that I would need.

I felt the hours tick by and still I was staring at the ceiling. I couldn't do it. I was too afraid. I slipped out of my bed and crept over to my door. I opened it and snuck out as quietly as I could. Because I had bare feet, I made hardly any noise, which was good, as Haymitch would have strangled me if he had caught me up at this time. Especially since it was the night before the Games, I had to get as much sleep as I could. I snuck down the corridor and reached the wooden door that, behind it, held the person I wanted to talk to. I knocked three times as quietly as possible. I heard movement from inside the door and within seconds, it was opened to reveal Grayson with severe bed head, as if he had been tossing and turning...which he probably had. I offered a sheepish smile.

"Can't sleep either?" He asked me. I nodded and he opened the door a bit more, so that I could slip into his room from under his arm without causing too much fuss and making too much noise, which would result in a maddened Haymitch.

"No. Well, yes. I just...you know why." I said, placing myself down on the end of Grayson's bed, looking at him and bringing my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them. Grayson nodded and sat down next to me. He looked out of his window from where he was sitting and down on to the view of the lit up Capitol. He let out a small sigh.

"It's disgusting. What they do to the Districts, I mean. Not the view. The view is spectacular. Well, it would be if it weren't for the awful people living in those homes out there." I smiled slightly at Grayson's comment and looked over to him. Our shoulders were almost touching, but Grayson hadn't noticed. I watched as he just stared ahead of him out of the window, looking like he was deep in thought. I knew he came from the Seam, but his eyes were so strange for someone of that area. Seam eyes were usually grey, like mine. His were that beautiful blue-green. They reflected the lights from the window and shone brightly. The pain was still evident, no matter how many coloured lights were shining in them.

I looked at this boy. The very boy that had saved my father for three days, the boy that lightened situations and seemed to be able to smile no matter the situation, the boy who had been so good towards me without me even realising it. He had supported me during training and made me smile. There was a lot more to him than meets the eye, and to be honest, I didn't want to be thrown into a contest to the death with him. He was good to be put in there. Too good. Too precious to this world. It would be even more wrong to slaughter someone like Grayson Stengard.

"Um, Grayson," I started. He turned to me, looking right into my eyes, "I don't know how I am supposed to kill you and frankly, I don't want to." I averted my gaze from his eyes, a blush threatening to flare on my cheeks. I thought he was going to laugh at me or send me out. But he didn't. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me, enveloping me in his warmth. I surprised myself even more by slowly hugging back, slightly awkwardly. Hugging strangers like Grayson was weird. But now he wasn't a stranger. He was a fellow tribute. After all, The Games weren't just in the arena. They were all around us.

We just sat there in that embrace. The embrace that spoke more loudly that words could have. He was saying thanks. He was saying sorry, and most importantly, he was proving he wasn't a complete blood-lusting monster that wouldn't hesitate to kill me as soon as the gong sounded. I hoped I wouldn't die at Grayson's hand, or he mine. It would be too painful. And that wouldn't just be because of the knives or arrows. I didn't want to call myself his friend, but I didn't want to call myself his enemy either. He was from District 12 after all and he had given my father a little bit more time on his shortened existence. But sadly, only one would get out of the arena, and it was likely that it wouldn't be me. If I was to die, I would want Grayson to win for District 12. For my father.

As Grayson pulled away, he looked directly at me, gripping my arms tightly. "I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to kill you either. I know I don't know you, but you are kind and a really nice person...I'm probably going to get killed off in the bloodbath, so there is no need to worry to be honest." He said, looking down slightly.

"Hey! Don't you even dare to say that! You're definitely not going to get killed off in the bloodbath. All you need to do is grab some knives, possibly a sword, and you could pick everybody off within days. Possibly even the Careers. If one of us is going to die at the Cornucopia, it will be me." I said to him, giving him a slight glare as for him not to argue with me.

"What if I can't get knives? What if I miss the first second, that precious moment, and end up lagging behind? I could die in anyway possible. I may even live. Who knows? Not me, that's for certain. I can't be certain what's going to happen in that arena. But...but I know one thing for certain." Grayson said, looking up from beneath his hair, "I know what I'm going to be fighting for."

"What's that?" I asked him, adjusting my position to something more comfortable. Grayson sighed and blushed slightly, the edges of his cheeks going a light shade of pink.

"I might tell you later. Depends how I'm feeling after being stabbed." He said, sounding halfway between joking and dead serious. I smiled slightly and so did he. I stared right into those pained eyes. I wanted to ask him why they looked so traumatised, but I didn't think now would be appropriate, seeing as we were going to be fighting to our deaths tomorrow morning. I wanted to say so much in that moment, but just staring into Grayson's eyes seemed to speak a thousand words. Specifically, a hundred unanswered questions.

"Um, I best be going now. I don't want to be exhausted in the morning and Haymitch might catch us or something. We both can't afford to be tired. I'm sorry about everything and may the odds be ever in your favour. You did offer to share your kill, after all." I said, giving him a small smile and getting up from his bed. I was about to open the door, when Grayson called after me.

"Wait, Harper, I don't know you, but...whatever happens-" He then looked at the floor, but then he looked up at me with a faint smile, "May the odds be ever in your favour." I smiled a small, slight smile and also mimicked his shy smile, before closing the door and silently stalking back down the corridor and into my bedroom, where I then suddenly threw myself onto my pillow, suddenly wanting to scream. What had I done? I had just made myself become more attached to the boy! Harper, you idiot! You absolute idiot! I rolled over and stared at the ceiling once more, feeling more awake than ever. Great. This is just what I need.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, and after hearing the countdown to the Games ringing in my ears, I fell into a deep yet horrifically peaceful sleep.

___________

I had only just woken up when Cinna had knocked on my door to collect me. That was when the fear settled in for real. In a matter of a few hours, maybe less, I could be dead. Cinna smiled down at me and drew my curtains to reveal it was only just dawn. I groggily sat up fully and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, still feeling exhausted.

"Cinna?" I queried, my voice tired and slightly husky. Cinna walked over to my bed and pulled back the covers, holding a hand out to me.

"Hello. Just put something quick and easy on, you'll be getting changed in the catacombs under the arena." Cinna said to me as he helped out of bed, even though it wasn't at all high. I didn't know if it was just me or not, but I thought I had detected some sadness in Cinna's voice. Because of this, I did exactly as he asked. I just slipped on some slippers and a dressing gown over the top of my pyjama attire. I rewrapped my ribbon around my wrist and Cinna then lead me outside as a hovercraft appeared out of nowhere, startling me slightly. He chuckled quietly to himself as a ladder dropped down. Cinna helped me to clamber on to the first rung, but I didn't need any help from there. It was as if the ladder had some sort of sticky substance that glued me to it, not allowing me to move. The force that held me on to the ladder kept me still and not able to move from it, therefore preventing me from falling to my certain death as I was carried upwards towards the hovercraft.

When I was pulled up and on to the hovercraft, I expected to be allowed to get off the ladder. When I remained stuck, I began to get a bit panicky. Surely I wasn't going to be stuck here the whole time? I looked about the room, seeing if anybody was planning on releasing me anytime soon when I spotted a woman with bright yellow hair, eyebrows and eyelashes, wearing an immaculate white coat, advancing towards me. She was holding a syringe. A long syringe at that. I gulped as she stopped in front of me and held the syringe over my forearm.

"This is your tracker. We need you stuck to the ladder so that I can get it in without you retaliating." The yellow haired woman said before she then pushed the needle deep into the skin of my forearm, causing me to yelp slightly at the sudden, sharp pain. I would have winced and pushed the woman away, but I was completely still, fixed in a position that I definitely didn't want to be in. I was bleeding slightly. Trust me to bleed. When the woman removed the needle from my arm, the ladder let me move again. I stepped off it as the woman dabbed at my forearm with some form of cotton, muttering under her breath at how I wasn't going to make it far at all. That was definitely not the support I needed at the moment. But undoubtedly she was allowed to say this because she wasn't going in the arena to her almost certain, brutal, painful death.

Cinna was fetched in and he lead me to a small room containing our breakfast. Even though it felt as if my stomach was tied into some sort of complicated knot from District 4, I was starving. Plus, I had to fill up with as much food as possible, because it was uncertain as to when I would be eating again. As I chow down on yet another slice of toast with the chocolate spread, I look out of the window. I saw the city disappear behind us. I saw clouds go past our window, leaving droplets on the pristine glass. I gazed out at the sky until it went completely black, meaning we had nearly arrived at the arena. I glanced over at Cinna who was giving me a sympathetic look. I gave him a brave smile, which was a secret plea to get me out of here. To send me home. To not die. But even Cinna wouldn't be able to give me that. Nobody could now.

The hovercraft then landed and Cinna took me away from the food and we both descended the ladder once more, through what I presumed to be some sort of massive tube that leads right underground. Under the very ground I would be fighting on in about and hour or so. Each second spent here was one more taken off of when I was to be sent up for the whole of Panem to see. Cinna then took me into a small chamber where I would be prepared to be put in the brand new Launch Room. Every arena was new, the old ones were practically used as attractions for people of the Capitol.

I gave Cinna my ribbon then cleaned myself in the shower, but the warm water wasn't as welcoming as it usually was. I stepped out and wrapped myself round in a fluffy towel. All the tributes were expected to be clean, even though they were just going to get covered in their latest victim's blood. Cinna then sat me down and braided my hair over my left shoulder, making it neat and precise. He made sure it was brushed neatly, but in a scruffy way, to make it look 'more me'. He then gave me the outfit that all tributes were assigned to wear. I took them and got myself dressed.

I slipped on the relatively tight, black t-shirt, trying my best to stop myself from shaking. I then put on the pair of tight-ish cargo like trousers, which were a colour somewhere between a light mud brown and a greyish-green. They had small pockets on the side of each thigh. The socks that I was given were stretchy, but they were very tight. I then slipped on the boots, which were made of a thick, brown leather. They came to about halfway up my shin and my trousers tucked into them. I laced and strapped then up and admired the soles, which had gripping tread, meaning I would be able to run on pretty much any surface without slipping. Well, hopefully. If not, the years of illegal poaching and hunting would help me stay silent and to move quickly and stealthily, like a startled deer. The final thing was the black jacket and stretchy, black belt. The jacket was lightweight, bunched up around my waist and then fell down to at least the very top of my thighs. It was supposed to keep heat in when it was cold and keep you cool when it was too hot. Once I was dressed I gave Cinna a little spin and a jog around the room, to prove that everything did fit me perfectly and very comfortably. I had to say, the Capitol were cruel, but at least they had allowed me to die in comfortable clothes.

"The tributes have different coloured jackets depending on their District. I think it's so that they can be identified if they are deformed when they...you know." Cinna said, but he shook his head, knowing that he could have completely sent me into hysterics if he described disgusting deaths to me. I had seen plenty on the screen, but I didn't want to think about them now. My jacket was black with the thin, grey stripes on the arms, around the shoulders and going down the torso. That meant that Grayson was also wearing black. I supposed it was better than wearing a bright yellow jacket or something. Cinna suddenly looked as if we were in thought, but he seemed to remember whatever it was that he wanted to remember. He then stepped forwards and grabbed the arm with the tracker imbedded inside. He held my wrist and wrapped the ribbon around it, then tying it off in a much more neat and elegant way. He then pulled my sleeve down, covering my ribbon, protecting it from any harm. "A piece of your sister that you can hang on to. May she give you hope when you're in the heaven forsaken arena. And may she aid you in being a mockingjay. A flaming mockingjay."

* * *

Cinna had insisted that I should eat, but I didn't seem to be able to eat too much. Probably because I had eaten too much at breakfast and that the fear I was feeling was now turning into sheer terror. As I tried to eat, my legs shook and I could practically hear my heartbeat. Cinna had talked calm, soothing words but it hadn't helped. Within minutes, I was going to be sent up to the arena, where the whole of Panem was going to watch me die a disgusting and bloody death.

"Cinna...I'm scared." I whispered to him. Cinna reached out and squeezed my knee.

"You are going to be fine. If you keep thinking that, then hold on to the fact that I know that you are going to get many sponsors. You were wonderful and deadly in such a great way during the opening ceremony and you were very appealing in the interview." He said. I sighed.

"But that was because of you, Cinna. Now I'm going in the arena and I won't have you to make me look pretty while I'm in combat with a tribute much taller than me." I said, "Naturally, I'm not a very appealing person. You made me like that and without you, I'll be awful. The Capitol will be tripping over themselves just to see my death scene once more."

"You are also very wrong. You are a very appealing person. Even without the make up and the pretty dresses, you are a wonderful, strong and even though I haven't seen much of you, I am completely positive about that." Cinna said to me. I had opened my mouth to respond, but a lady's voice had cut me off, saying that it was time for launch. My heart jumped up inside my throat and I made a croaking sound. Cinna sighed and led me over to the metal plate that I had tried my hardest to ignore. I couldn't ignore it any longer. I had to face the truth, no matter how harsh it was.

"Cinna?" I asked as I turned to face him. "Cinna, just...just don't forget me, okay? I know I hardly know you, but you have given me faith...that's what I need when in the arena. I honestly can't thank you enough for...for everything. All I ask is for you to at least remember my name when I'm..." I pointed upwards, indicating that my death was only metres away. Stop being so morbid, Harper. You'll be okay. For now. Cinna looked me in the eyes and smiled slightly as the glass cylinder began to descend. My heart rate picked up drastically. Well?

"How could one forget the flaming mockingjay? May the odds be ever in your fa-" He was cut off from me as the cylinder encased me completely. I put a hand on it as I began to rise. Cinna quickly rose the first three ringers on his left hand to his lips -as I stifled a sob- and he had only just raised them in the salute as I was plunged into darkness.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the ninety-ninth Hunger Games begin!" I heard from all around me as I was lifted up and into the open air and sudden bright light. It had begun.

As my eyes adjusted to this sudden change in light, I sniffed and recognised the smell of fresh, green grass and forest trees. Still blinking, I looked about. That was when I finally took in the sight of the arena. About forty to fifty metres ahead of me was the Cornucopia with a stash of weapons, food and anything else someone would need to survive a little while in the Games. There were thick trees, a forest, not far off - however, it would be a long run to get there. I then caught sight of a small river running right next to the golden horn of the Cornucopia. The tributes all stood on their metal plates in a semi-circle surrounding the Cornucopia. They all seemed to be taking in the sight of their surroundings, working out strategies and most importantly, which weapons and supplies they were going to take.

Thirty seconds had now passed, leaving me with another thirty to think of a strategy. The tributes were now beginning to position themselves to run, ready for the horror of the bloodbath that was to come. That was when I saw it. It was like a flicker of hope, something that could help me get out of this living hell - a silver bow, made out of some sort of light metal, possibly carbon fibre. It was smooth and well designed and it was just for me. It had its own quiver with a set of silver arrows with plastic, transparent flights instead of feathers like I normally had. Even from this distance, I could see that it looked very much like the bow I had used during training. It was definitely for me. They were mine and I was going to get them. They were going to be what kept me alive for at least a few days and I was determined to get them out of that stand and into my hands.

Fifteen seconds to go. I wanted to know where Grayson was and what supplies he was eyeing up. I hoped he would get some knives and not just a sheet of plastic like the one five or so metres away from my left hand side. I couldn't see the brown haired boy anywhere and it was unnerving me for some reason.

Concentrate, Harper.

Five seconds.

Four seconds.

Three seconds.

I positioned myself to run, jaw set and eyes locked on the bow and arrows.

Two seconds.

One second.

Suddenly, the gong sounded and the semi-circle of tributes began to run, including me. For the sheer joy of it, I scooped up a sheet of plastic on my way towards the bow and arrows, which seemed to now radiate some form of halo, beckoning me forward. They were what made me urge my legs onwards. They were so close to the mouth of the horn that I was afraid I wasn't going to get them, but I now had my sheet of plastic and nothing was going to get in my way. About ten or so metres away from my destination, I stooped down and grabbed a black and orange pack, throwing it on to my back as I threw my arms right out in the direction of the bow and arrows, practically feeling the cool metal underneath my fingers already.

I let out sigh of relief as my hungry fingers wrapped themselves around the bow, wrenching it from its stand. I slung the quiver, which was jammed full with what seemed to be more than enough arrows, on over my backpack and turned towards the woods. No sooner had I lifted my right foot from the ground had a spear shot past my ear, almost slicing my face open. I turned in the direction the spear had come from to see a boy from District 2, holding another one in his hand, ready to throw it right at my heart. It almost took me by surprise, but luckily my reflexes turned back on again, enabling me to turn at an angle and duck as the spear flew right over my nose. I stood up straight again and sprinted as fast as I could through the chaotic mess of the bloodbath, fearing the boy was going to pick up another spear and get me from behind. I saw a girl from District 6 being mauled by the District 1 girl, being stabbed multiple times in the chest area by a long, sharp knife. Her screams of pain were what made me grit my teeth and get away from this battle. I didn't want to end up like her. I bit down on my tongue as, at long last, I was in the safety of the forest. Well, I wouldn't call it safe exactly, but anywhere was better than the Cornucopia at this present moment.

I looked back and suddenly wished I hadn't. There were some bodies littered about the place and the battle still hadn't finished yet. I couldn't see Grayson anywhere. Was he one of the bloody bodies? I sincerely hoped not. I then saw quite a young boy being picked up by a massive, dark skinned boy. The younger boy was flailing about, fear obvious on his face. I realised what was going to happen and turned away, but not quick enough. I saw the darker skinned boy snap the younger boy's neck and drop the small, broken body to the ground, before scooping up a backpack and sprinting off towards the forest, but thankfully away from me.

I followed suit and turned away again, hoping that Grayson was safe and sound, before I began running once more. And I wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon.