misunderstandings keep me young

                I looked around. The vicious sun stung my eyes, made them water. The cornucopia was still littered with goodies, I didn't need to suck the Capitol's dick for sponsors with all of this shit surrounding me.

                I raised my voice, I made them know we had to get moving, and then I went to pick around for other things I could get my hands on.

                "Excuse me," I heard behind me, as Thad tapped my shoulder. I turned to see him snarling at me, his face all made up like a dog that had his favorite squeaker taken away, "Who the fuck do you think you are around here, giving orders?"

                My response came as quick as a whip, "Oliver Green?" I cocked my shoulder and gave him a smile to go along with my playful ignorance. My entire demeanor dripped with sarcasm. If he wanted to get all up in my face, so fucking be it. Two could play. "You really wanna piss off the girl with two spears? I can take you down in a minute, pretty boy, you sure you wanna dance?"

                "Can you guys fucking stop? Let's get out of here." Argona piped up.

                "Fine. Let's pack up and go." Thad mumbled.

                "I just said that." I said, to which he agreed:

                "Shut the fuck up."

                It was enough to make me smile wider and slink away. I totally won that round. My hands glided across the table at the far end of the giant horn, scooping a bottle of sunscreen blindly in to what room was left in my pocket and frowned. Angel had blood on her, and she looked winded— I'd be damned if I'd let a princess like her get a higher kill number than I did. The more vicious you were in the game, the more adoring fans you would get once this game part was over with. I gave her a sarcastic sneer, which she did not return before scurrying over to Thad for the billionth time. I didn't trust them. Thad might have caught my interest once upon a time, but Angel's psychotic teeth were sunk in him so deep, there's no way I'd even get close to tapping that; and anyway, now things were heated, and I couldn't afford to turn my back on him. District mates were always closer. Sometimes, you'd get the tribute who knew the score, and knew it well enough to know that as soon as the countdown starts, they no longer had friends; but other times you'd get a dickwhipped duo like the dames in district one.

                Thinking about them made me remember Haze. I had almost forgotten the promise I had made him make this morning. That bastard, I needed to collect this crap myself. He was fun enough to mess with though, so I'm sure he'd make up for it by being my comic relief until— I saw it. I saw him. He was bent at a funny angle, blood trickling down from his lips but otherwise, he looked like he did when he slept. His red-brown curly hair framed his face. Dust from the chalky ground freckled his shoulders and clung to the fabric of his clothes.  I set my eyes on him, watching in disbelief as a hovercraft sucked him into the sky and out of the way.

                I turned on my heel, my eyes wide, my lungs burning. I didn't even know I was walking, didn't know what I was doing until Angel took a step back from me and wiped my spit off her face, looking angry herself.

                "What the FUCK, did you kill him?!"

                "What? Kill who?"

                Thad started to approach with a huge question mark on his face, but I stopped him before he started. "Haze, did you kill him?!"

                "Haze is dead?"

                "Yes, Pepe le pew, Haze is fucking dead!"

                Argona approached, her arms raised, "You all need to calm the fuck down."

                "And you need to shut the fuck up." Angel snapped bitterly back at her.

                I was barely listening. There wasn't anything I could do, Haze was dead, I didn't see it, but one of these two did it, I was sure. Thad and Angel were wandering away when I heard:

                "Can you fucking believe her?"

                I was fuming. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the smartest thing in the world to make enemies out of  the people I'd eventually have to set up camp with, but at that moment, I didn't care. Haze was dead. Maybe it would honor his memory some if I was the one who found out which one killed him so I'd be the one to cut their throat in their sleep. This was one lame career pack anyway, once one of them were dead, no way I'd want to stay around for the aftermath. I'd bide my time, picking off the little scared ones, and comeback for them if there was something to come back for.

                I looked at Argona. "District one," I started briskly, "is a damn unit. I'm telling you, I don't trust them at all." It never hurt to have a little back up against the two supposed most dangerous players in the game. If the pack had to split up soon, I'd rather have her than either of the D1's.

                Maybe it was fatigue from thirst, or maybe I literally blacked out for a second due to anger, but I swear, next time I blinked, the sun was setting. I reminded myself that the games makers could make it snow here if they wanted, and calmed down. We finished with the cornucopia forever ago and agreed to stay and fuel up. Thad and I were alone, because Angel was sleeping or bossing Argona around or off getting killed; like I cared. No one spoke on Haze. No one stooped to claim the blame for his death, but then, I didn't ask again. The unease had set in, soaking around the four of us for as long as we walked. Now we were stationary, and the weather was being a little merciful, it relented slightly. Or perhaps that was my imagination. We were all still coated in sticky, unsavory sweat though; Angel had the right idea, taking off her shirt, but I wasn't about to validate that by following her lead. 

                "I'm heading to bed," I announced, "if you didn't grab a blanket at the Cornucopia, sucks to be you." When you're about to be gutted at any moment, you sleep as light as a feather. I swear I must have woken up three of four times before it was my shift to take watch. I noticed that Thad and Angel took turns staying up and eyeing the stars as though they had no right to be so bright and cheery. Those two could make beautiful emo music together, I wager. They didn't trust me any more than I them and Argona was a little tweaker when it came to sleeping. It took most of my energy not to be in a constant state of eye-rolling. The next morning wasn't rough at all. All we had done was walk, and yesterday's adrenaline and breakfast had kept me more or less spellbound. I made my way over to Thad, who was had the last watch and was already wide awake.

                "I'm going on a run." Thad said, which was code for taking care of business. Also code for going off to scout out some competition. He didn't look tense; if anything he just looked like he'd rather not be talking to me at all. His arms were crossed and his brow set.

                "Which way?" He pointed. "First one back gets a water purification tab." He raised an eyebrow at me and I took the little plastic wrapped thing out of my pocket.

                "How do you know I don't have one." he came back with, trying to be plain. I just tilted my head down like 'really?' and started walking in the opposite direction. I heard his crunching footsteps walking away from me as he agreed to our bet.

                It was better alone. I had more time to think alone. I killed one today, that little girl from District 5, but it didn't bother me as much as I expected it would. My Papa made it out to be the toughest thing imaginable. It was really no worse than killing fish by hauling them out of the water and suffocating them with oxygen. I never understood how that worked, since gills were there to sift through the water to find oxygen anyways, but Dad never got it either, so we both stayed in blissful ignorance about the circumstances in which a fish suffocates. Anyway, I'd feel bad for the fish for only a second, watching them gasp and flop around, rejecting their new environment, but once it was dead, so was my compassion for it. It was gone and there was nothing I could do about it. And I hadn't even watched the girl die, I had simply shoved her off a cliff, so it was an easier cut-and-dry.

                But Haze was different. He was more human than that girl. Less than me, because I knew he was going to have to die for me to pull out of this— and I was going to pull out of this— but more than that girl. I woke up with him, trained with him, talked to him most out of all the other tributes. At first, he annoyed me as much as I annoyed him but towards the end, it was less so. I reminded myself that it might have been Argona who had done it, could have been anyone, but that didn't lessen my hatred towards Angel, or make me feel better about the way Thad had looked at me back at the Cornucopia.

                Whatever. Dead was dead. Why was I feeling so shitty then?

                I stopped. I was supposed to be thinking of strategies for taking down the others, not Haze. Lost in thought I had nearly missed the fresh sounds of footsteps. Shakier and unsure, so definitely not Thad. I lowered myself, a spear in each hand, inching forward like I've hunted my whole life. I didn't make a sound, and he didn't see me behind the enormous boulders and brush bushes I was using for cover. Fuck, he was on a slight incline. A hill, looking out at the valley. There was no sneak attack to be had, only a straight on approach. He had quite a nifty tactic, slightly out on the open, high up so he couldn't be ambushed. Clever. He was looking through his pack, his eyes bleeding worry into the rest of his face, sweat pouring down and soaking his shirt, while his jacket was pulled clumsily over his head with his other hand.

                I recognized the boy, but I couldn't put a finger on a district. Didn't matter. I straightened up, humming lazily and swinging my spear to push the bushes aside while I came into view. He immediately tensed and nearly dropped his bag. He looked down then looked back at me, and if I were closer, I might have heard him gulp.

                "Nothing good in there?" I asked, feigning concern, gesturing dangerously with one of my spears. He didn't answer, just swung the bag around in one fluid movement, and started to run.

                I sighed and chased after him, my legs beating the ground as I went, I transferred both spears to my right hand and ran faster, ignoring the snap and prick of twigs cutting my cheeks and forearms. My powerful arms made great arcs up and down, holding my weapons in such a way that I didn't get hit in the face with the sharp ends. He was up ahead but I was closing in fast. There was a sort of hesitance on his right that was just barely noticeable when he stumbled. Either that of he was left handed, which would come in handy, thinking of places to stab him. I would get him, I knew; because he was fast, but I was faster.

                His breath was heavy and I could hear him whimper as he ran to nowhere in particular, trying his best to stay far enough away, but I had to get one more than Angel. I had to win my bet with Thad. I had to blow off this steam from one of those bitches killing Haze.

                I lobbed an arrow into the air and it came down like a sledgehammer with the force of my throw, right onto the boy's left ankle. He yelled and fell forward, mussing himself in the dirt. The Military grade, steel tipped spear had pierced the skin and went all the way through, but had missed any bone, hence why he was still moving— hence why I allowed him to move still. His backpack was up over his shoulders and he was twisted into his jacket, pressed into the dirt. I walked around and squatted to get a look at him.

                And I suddenly remembered who he was.

                "Ladies and motherfucking gentleman!" I said, standing, my arms wide, looking for a camera, "boys and girls! Sorry to say last year's troopers, District 5, won't be joining us any longer."

                Gavriil groaned and tried to push himself to his feet, refusing to die on the floor like that. "What?" he spat at my feet and looked up at me, his lip sore and busted from impact.

                I went over to his leg and wrenched it up, pulling the staff part through so I didn't get more blood and guts all over the spear-head. He groaned and bit his lip so hard it turned white, then rolled over and tried to scramble to his feet. His calf did not agree with him, and I only laughed and kicked the dirt he spat on back at him. He choked, and tried to get the damp dirt out of his eyes and off his face.

                "Your district mate? Ah, Nama? Naomi, whatever, I off'd her at the Bloodbath."

                "You did?" This looked like news to him, and boy did I like hearing myself talk, so I went on,

                "I did. Don't worry though, it was quick. I think. I didn't exactly see her land but I did hear her scream all the way down. Then it stopped, like I had pulled her sound right out." Gavriil looked horrified, "She tried to reach for me, when I grabbed her shoulders and threw her off that thing. It was quite sweet, how she thought I'd save her. Or hoped, rather. I'm assuming she's not as dumb as she looks."

                I didn't get to continue gloating. He stood up— or leaped, more accurately— with rope in hand and determination in his eyes. I didn't know what he was going to do until he made a clumsy attempt at choking me. It startled me enough to make me drop my remaining spear, but I reeled back and head-butted him so hard he staggered. He pinched his now brilliantly bloody nose, almost losing his balance again. We fought for a moment, hand to hand. I felt bruises flowering on my stomach and cheek, but ignored them to keep fighting.

                I turned for my spears but before I got there, he had my neck again. This time, the rope was doubled up, and he was holding it properly, know it or not. There was a tight circle around my neck, getting tighter all the time as he squeezed and squeezed, ready to kill me. I scrabbled the robe with my fingers, my brain whirling, my lungs on fire for the second time today. I knew what I had to do, but it didn't make this any less painful. My limbs started to relax and I was leaning back, against him. He kept it up, his knuckles white from the effort. I got my fingers beneath the ropes at last and pulled, heaving my entire weight forward. As I had hoped, he didn't let go until his feet left the floor. I lurched all the way forward and his tall, thin body was flung clean over me and onto his back in front of me.

                "Say hi to what's-her-name for me." Without pausing to think I picked up my spear (of course it was the one not covered in blood), hiked it up, and drove it down.  It pierced between his ribcage. I knew because I had aimed dead center and I didn't hear a cacophony of shattering ribs. The wound I had created burst open when I tugged the spear unforgivingly out of his chest. Gavriil sputtered for a few moments, never taking those eyes off me; eyes that said 'you bitch, go straight to hell'. Then the muscles in his face relaxed and his head tipped sideways. His fumbling hands fumbled no more.

                I wrenched the rope off of my neck and looked down at the body, just as the earth shaking cannon made itself known. The rope pooled on the ground in coils atop his head like a halo.

                I let out a giant huff then, sighing to get my breathing back to normal, choking, and rubbing throat. I felt grooves and indents there, and wouldn't be at all surprised to learn I had angry red rope burns branded onto my skin. "Son of a bitch." I said, annoyed. I stabbed at his lifeless body fruitlessly with my spear. Well. It wasn't entirely fruitless. I did feel a little better after doing it, so I did it again. Once, twice, three times for the bruises and the welts on my neck. And another two for Haze, even though I'm pretty sure Gavriil had nothing to do with his death, and one more for how much D1 irritated me.

                Cool thing about spears is that you never run out of ammo.

                Another cannon rocked me out of whatever temporary insanity had gripped me. It didn't even bother me that this kid's body was riddled with holes now because of me, just that Thad might get back to camp first.

                I put both spears under my arm and rolled Gavriil over, out of the puddle of blood and away from his backpack, rummaging inside to see if he did get something good. It turns out I was right: he didn't.

                I rubbed the plastic of the beef jerky packet off on the side of my pants, making certain none of his blood was on the Ziploc part when I pried it open. He wouldn't be needing it anymore. I dumped everything out and put my things in there; the brass knuckles and the food and water I had, everything. I didn't care it was washed in his blood.  Convenient was convenient.Seeing the snack made me realize just how hungry I was. I eyed the rope, but eventually decided to leave it, walking back quickly and quietly, ears alert for more tributes. I met no one on the way back but killed the bulk of my snack. Angel was gone. Thad wasn't back yet, and Argona looked thoroughly annoyed at being unwillingly assigned watch duty. Adorable. I smiled when I saw her, wide and completely one-dimensional. She gave me a fake smirk back. Wordlessly, I handed her the rest of the jerky.

                "You look like you had fun. Whose blood is this?" she asked conversationally, dipping her hand into the bag.

                "Kid from 5," I said, "the boy. Thad not around?"

                "Obviously not."

                "That means I get this," I took out the little purification tablet and shrugged off my new tiny backpack, searching for water.

                "A bet?"

                "Just trying to make life more exciting, that's all." I opened the bottle popped the tab in, closed it again, and shook it around,  watching it fizz. When it was safe to drink, I took a long draft from it, fanning myself from the still obscenely hot sunset.

                "You should probably," Argona trailed off, gesturing to the sunscreen in my bag. I felt my face. It was hot, but not yet painful. My shoulders were pink and starting to peel a little, but it was bearable, so I hadn't noticed.

                "Uh-huh, thank— oh look who decided to show up." I never tired of gloating. I raised the bottle like I was presenting a toast and he just rolled his eyes, carted away by Angel. I handed the bottle off to Argona who chuckled and took a sip.