Delly Ficklewood

I'm Delly. Delly Ficklewood. I'm 16 years old and I'm from District Seven. This is the Seventh Annual Hunger Games.


15. Delly

It has been 6 days since the games started. Seven weeks and six days. Tomorrow is the seventh day of the seventh week. I love seven. The number. I’m glad I was born into district seven. I found a place to sleep two weeks ago. There’s a little cave ledge on the mountain. I fall asleep.

I awake to the sound of two cannons. There’s only five of us left. Blight, me, Skeeter and the two from district 2. Blight is a District five boy. He’s only thirteen. He’s three years younger than me. I want him to survive. But I want to live. I promised Chamomile I would survive. I clean my newly collected axe. I love this axe. I killed two people with it. It’s completely bloody, even the handle is covered by the crimson liquid. I’m sitting waiting for Blight to return from his hunting trip. I’ve been with him for a week. There’s been no sight of Skeeter. I miss him.

Me and Blight are living inside the Cornucopia. He discovered that the hill moves around the arena. It’s not safe to stay there. I hear a sound. I pick up my knife and my axe. I stand up. I turn, only to find Skeeter standing there. I run to him, dropping my weapons. I hug him. He does not hug me back. He pushes me away. He starts walking closer and closer to me, a knife and a spear in his hands. I turn away and start to run. He’s chasing me along the flatland. I see an oncoming rock. I don’t dodge it. Good bye life! I think as I fall to the ground. A spear pierces the delicate skin on my back. My shirt becomes a crimson coloured item of fabric. Something stands on my leg. I scream in agony. It moves along up my back. My spine cracks and snaps.

‘At least something will kill you. Turtles, what a pathetic way to go.’ Skeeter says. I scream.

Then that is it. Darkness. Nothingness. Emptiness. A white light ahead of me. I walk towards it. I enter the light.

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