Glances of Promise (The Hunger Games Fanfic)
Another fanfic - in honor of me not tearing up over the film. I'm on depression mode where I get this painful chest thumpings and horrible thoughts, okay. I'm not looking forward to the ending of this, but I'm getting into the part of life where I'm a masochist, so yeah.
Keep Your Mind Focused
A loud wail penetrated my ears, and I shot up, only to be restrained by a stirring hand I hadn't realized was enclasped around my own. She groggily pushed herself up, quite reluctantly too, and I mentally begged her to quiet down.
It all happened in a flash.
We were cocooned in a sleeping bag, groggy and quite fuzzy in the upper area then loud, careless footsteps invaded our hearing and their laughter shook our stimuli's.
"R-real Car-reers?" My jaw really did shake when I said the much frightening word.
Ezrel nodded stiffly and her cold hand twitched a couple of times. I pressed her hand and let go, surreptitiously crawling out of the sleeping bag. I struggled to keep my eyelids from shutting in reflex, and the humid feel of the surrounding area didn't help either.
"That guy's face! It was like -- !" the voice presumably of a girl stopped, and after a second or two, it erupted another bout of chuckles. Why do those careers have to laugh at deaths? What if it were theirs?
I puffed in air in my cheeks and tried to find my shoes. I patted the dead leaves filled ground several times, and while I managed to attain dirt and soil on my hand, the shoes were still not in my view.
I gritted my teeth in exasperation until my jaw hurt. I had to let out my anger quietly rather than make it the reason of my immediate death. I don't want to fuss on the dates; I'd rather let it flow by naturally.
They were getting nearer, I knew. The pitter-patter of their feet against the ground woke us both up further, and the rustling sounds getting louder scared us. At the last moment after an episode of hesitation, I patted Ezrel on the shoulder and ran towards the middle of where we were going yesterday before we decided to sleep for the night.
My bare feet pricked themselves on branches and such and tears started brimming my eyes from the pain. It was like I ran in mid-air on a rose bush - except this time, it's probably twice the pain. I know the feeling this twigs gave out; the ends of a wire. When I'm bored, those barb wires without the double fly-away pincers were my friends of solitude. It's like origami, except it's easier and much cheaper; cheaper because you don't have to replace it easily. Quite painful, but easy on the pocket.
When I had reached the edge of my lip-clamping pain, I punched the tree in front of my way. Ezrel stopped running, one hand on the side of the tree, panting. I looked down at my feet, seeing that they're bleeding and I resisted the urge to pile up the bile on my throat.
I stumbled to the sides, throwing myself beside the bushes. I looked at my feet again, and this time, I scrounged up my face and tightly closed my eyes; at every view, the pain felt more intense. It was bleeding, yes, but the look of it was unbearable. Thorns were stuck in the skin under and between my toe nails. Taking a deep breath, I resisted the urge to cry over the fact that my feet can be infected, and what comes with infection is cutting of limbs - and I'm afraid of limbs being cut off. The idea of it is just so-- so vulgar and inhumane.
"Here," Ezrel kneeled in front of me and started plucking out whatever was inside my flesh with her fingers. I flinched, cringed and let out a cry every time she successfully and unsuccessfully pulled out those items. She gingerly cupped my legs and placed it on her thighs. The way my legs were outstretched after the blood circulation was slightly cut gave me a form of relaxation.
"Thanks." Clear speech, check.
The air gradually became more humid, and my clothes were starting to stick to my damp skin. The cuts on my body started to sting as the salty sweat started spreading. Ezrel started to caress my literally bloody feet and my chest heaved faster than normal, but it's the best I could go.
"Do you think they're still there?"
I choked back on whatever it was in my throat and fought to keep my voice steady. "M-maybe,"
"Can you still climb on trees?" she asked softly, searching my eyes for my expression. Hers were green, bright and dark at the same time.
"I- I never could climb trees..." I returned awkwardly, remembering how the experience of trying it out on the training area. I shuddered, embarrassed.
"Your legs, right branch, kneel! the instructor commanded, exasperated at my failed antics.
"Trying, trying..." I muttered to myself, feeling very out of place and a laughing stock at what I was doing. When I stuck my leg out to reach that branch, my legs scraped the fake tree trunk and branches that felt very real and hissed. The air was knocked out of my lungs, and the adrenaline was terrifying indeed. My bones and ribs felt like it shattered into twenty three pieces and I couldn't move. I heard laughter all around, and I resisted the urge to lock myself in a closet, scream and never come out again - which would work well on my part; no me equals no dying in the game.
She raised a finely threaded eyebrow and I couldn't handle eye contact any more. I ducked my head and started fiddling with the ends of my cross-stitched brown shirt. The jeans I wore was more comfortable than fashionable, and before the games, I resented the way it looked, but now, I couldn't ask for anything better. It had a utility belt, not necessarily a bag, but it had hooks on it, and it draped to the side - it doesn't fit straight, and it hangs from above my right waist then starts to slant under the left one. So far, I don't have any supplies to put on it, since the exchange. I wonder if I can pull on the hooks and use it as a weapon or a resource catcher.
Probably would have caused the death of my district's designer.
Forgot to thank you guys for the comments last chapter! So thank you, haha :D I remember the quote, "Haha ka ng haha, isa pa, HAHAlikan kita." XD It's just so-- so cheesy. Haha.