The 33rd Hunger Games

Tamar Mamet and her own brother, battle it out to become the last one standing.

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12. 12)

Omarion turned deathly pale. Quickly, I bandaged up his leg without looking at the wound. Farah says she can look after him, if I want to go hunting. I'm not really sure what I'm hunting for. People or animals? I decide to hunt for animals first. Humans can wait.

Within an hour, I shoot down two rabbits and three squirrels. I check Tetra's snares to find a groosling and a turkey. When I return, I see Farah's face looking miserable. He's got worse. I can tell. There's pus coming out of his leg and his temperature has got higher.

Sometimes, in the street, I see the poorer people of our district with wounds from cutting the trees. Their legs look exactly like Omarion's one, apart from this wound was deliberate. I hate Dario for it. But, he is dead. His family will hate me forever. If I make it home, I'll have to go on a Victory Tour which shows the dead tribute's caskets and their families. Mini Darios. Mini Ranias. Mini every tribute in this whole arena, that will have to die, if I am to make it home.

Including my own brother.

If I come home, I strip away everyone's life in this arena. Their futures, their pasts, their families. My father knew this when he went into the arena. I didn't know until I was in it. Stupid of me to think about it, because I'm going to die here anyway. I'm 12, for crying out loud. The worst thing is that I turn 13 while I'm in here. Hopefully, my father will send me something to indicate it's my birthday.

All the while I've been focusing on why people have to die, Omarion has gotten worse than before. He can barely breathe. I try to comfort him, by closing his eyes and telling him he's at home, curled up in bed with father and mother and Abel and me. Another parachute drops down. This time, it's out in the open, so I can tell it was dropped from the sky, but I still take caution by drawing out my knives.

Inside it, there's some food, even though we've got plenty, water and a small vial of medicine. Straight away, I give the vial to Omarion. He gulps it down and falls to sleep instantly. What help is sleep going to give him?

"Tamar," begins Farah. "Would you like me to tell you about my home, and you can tell me about yours?" she suggests. I nod. She tells me about the layer of coal dust that covers her district. Her father was blown up in a mine, and the black market trading centre called the Hob, where they trade game for other such items, like wool, thread or anything, really.

I've never heard of such a thing. But then, we've always been some of the richest people in our district. We've never needed anything, because of the amount of cash we have because of father's winnings. Then, she tells me about her two older brothers going into the mine. She told me she was 13, and she had to look after her sick sister. When she was older, she said she would marry the baker's son. If she made it home.

This made me sad, knowing that I'd have to die so she could marry the baker's son. I decided I couldn't let this get to me. She stops. Then I remember I have to tell her about my home.

"Well," I say. "My home in District 7 is very dear to me..." I begin to tell her about how we've always been well off, my father won the Hunger Games aged 18, 23 years ago. When it came to when my mother died, I didn't go very in depth. I told her about my brothers, how one is a great lumberer (Abel) and the other is kind of lazy (Omarion). She laughs. My life must sound very care free, compared to hers.

"Who was the boy your brother volunteered for?" she asks.

"Clato? Well, he's my best friend in 7. In the whole of Panem, actually. Everybody expects me to marry him." I say.

"Don't take me for a fool, because I'm not. You have a similar colour hair to the girl in District 1. Why is that?" she asks.

Seeing as it's unlikely I'm coming out of here alive, I go ahead and tell her. I tell her about my parent's fleeing District 1, just after I was born. The only thing I don't tell her is why, because I don't know myself.

"I know," says a croaky voice.

I whip around to see my brother sitting upright, for the first time today. He gives a weak smile.

"I know why," he says again, with a stronger voice."Our parents fled 1 because of the mini war. It was fought between 1 and 2. It was pathetic. It was over something stupid, like what that district's industry was. District 2 won, and they got masonry. District 1 was stuck with luxurys, a flimsy produce. During this war, our parents ran away."

"Amazing," Farah says. She actually looks dumbstruck. But, by the way they were both staring at me, I must have looked worse than her. I could feel my face going red, then blood red, then crimson.

 

 

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