Hearing Six and Five make a split from me, I trek onwards to what appears to be a high school building. I know sticking together is a good idea, but we’ve just met each other. How could I trust them so easily? If only one comes out, I must be able to go at this alone. I already intended a solo journey before their friendly encounter so I shall continue as planned.
Coming up to the side door, I cleverly stick my head inside to get a sneak peek, looking around for any activity.
As soon as the other boys storm out of their shit stalls, Polly knows what she has to do. Using up another one of her extinguisher sprays, she coats shit boy number one in foam again hoping it would render him kind of useless. Thankfully, a bit of the cold powder got in his eye and he spent a few second rubbing them. Long enough for Polly to lift up her shirt and Capitol-issued brassiere to distract the other boys for just a moment.
As shit boy number two shakes his titty fog and continues to run at Polly, she doesn’t duck in time to dodge a punch he throws her way. Knowing she’ll end up with a black eye, Polly’s rage collects in her kneecap and she shoves it up into the boy’s groin. As he falls to the ground, the other boy races up behind her and wraps his arm around her neck in an attempt to choke her and bring her down to the ground.
The young woman was caught off guard that both weren’t taken aback by her blessed rack for too long but recovered from the shock long enough to bite down on the boy’s hand hard enough that he released her. Picking up her fire extinguisher once more, she attempted to bash shit boy number three’s head in with it and missed. Another swing and she heard metal collide with his head.
With one boy nursing what are surely bruised testicles and the other in a crumpled mess, Polly turned her attention back to initial shit boy. In the few moments that had passed, he rubbed the irritant from his eyes well enough to rush at Polly one more time. Waiting until he got close enough, Polly leaped to the side so that the boy’s momentum had him running head first back into his shit stall. Whipping around as fast as she could, Polly grabbed him by the back of the neck and attempted to shove his head into the toilet where his dirt snake currently lay.
She eventually kept the boy on his knees in front of the toilet but, struggling to match his strength, Polly took another dirty opportunity. She stomped down on his left ankle and before the scream could leave his mouth, she shoved his head down into the murky toilet water. As soon as she saw bubbles, she knew he had screamed directly into his own shit. How lovely.
Turning her attention back to shit boy number two, who was gathering his strength to ignore the throbbing she was sure still permeated his entire body, she picked up her extinguisher from where she dropped it and smashed it into the front of his face. Glad that two of the three boys were unconscious from a fire extinguisher and the other knocked out from his own shit water, Polly took her sweet ass time giving them all horrific wedgies before searching their bodies for whatever useful items she could find and left them to wake up full of shame.
Bitches. Fat, balding bitches, the lot of them. Reigning in a high pitched scream was all Polly could do as soon as she entered the first arena building she ran into. After taking a few deep breaths and running her fingers through her hair to reassure herself she was not a fat, balding mess, she decided to take a look around the building. Ah, high school. The golden years.
Grabbing tightly onto her fire extinguisher, Polly pushed open the doors to the room directly ahead of her and scanned her surroundings.
The Breakfast Club ✗Arena Day 1 ✗ Aquarius and Siavash
The noise behind me grew faint as my feet carried me out of the courtyard and into the Arena. My entire body was buzzing with adrenaline and heart was beating a million miles an hour by the time I slowed down and came to a halt. I looked behind me and saw that I was alone, for now at least.
My panting eased to steady breaths while I slipped the pack off my shoulder and took a look inside. Food, water, a camera of all things and another knife. I traded out the two ties in my pocket for the knife and knotted them both together. I pulled it taut to make sure the knot held, stuffed them in my opposite pocket and cautiously continued along the path. The advantage I had of getting out of the courtyard before the majority of everyone else would only hold up for so long.
Checking over my shoulder every odd step I only stopped when a building came into view at the end of the path. It had an eerie feel about it, then again it could be because of how quiet it is.
Was.
I whirled around when I heard footsteps approaching from behind, switchblade in hand. Really?
I watched Sia come to a halt a few paces away and held my ground. He didn’t have anything on him, visibly at least, but the blood already on him made me think otherwise. I wasnt about to underestimate him, or let my own distaste for his personality send me in with guns blazingz He wasn’t my favorite person, then again in a situation like this everyone’s an opponent.
A crossroads sat before me, and further on all I could see was concrete and vehicles. I turned around to look, noting several buildings in the distance. The parking lot was so open, so vulnerable that I felt somewhat uneasy being there, but I also noted that there were no other tributes who had come in my direction. I proceeded into the smaller, nicer parking lot. Better to come face to face with a mutt, I decided, than another tribute.
I stepped off of her, unraveling my whip from her throat.
I wanted to puke.
I felt woozy, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the loss of blood or the fact that I took another person’s life. I felt a weird sensation of pity, but I did it. Nothing could bring her back.
I finally had the chance to see what she had done to me in return. Bending my head down, large lacerations gazed right back at me, and it was only until I wiped my chest did I read her name. I started sobbing, my throat squeezing again as if it were reminding me what I had done to her.
You must move forward.
As I examined her inscription, I felt something tap on the back of my head. I turned around immediately, expecting one more tribute to try and finish me off. But to my relief, it was another sponsor gift. I quickly catch it with my left arm before the wind could whisk it away. I opened it and inside was a sleeping bag, gloves, and some soup. I slightly chuckled at Capitol-man’s note.
I quickly replace my fingerless gloves with the ones more ideally suited for this cold weather. I was worried frostbite would settle in, and the everlasting relief of my fingers finally catching a break from the freezing temperature is something I will never forget. I sat in the snow.
As far as I knew, two parts of my arm were damaged: my acromion and my shoulder’s socket. Undoubtedly, my acromion was shattered, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with that. In the meantime, I had to relocate my shoulder. Pulling my legs to my chest, I ever so lightly lifted my right arm before grabbing at my knee, wincing at this unbearable pain she had caused. I started to straighten my legs again slowly, still holding on tightly. Almost too tightly as I felt my own fingernails dig through my clothing and gloves. It was the only thing I could do to suppress my screaming.
Pop!
I let my arm fall to my side. A sudden whoosh of gratification and relief. Half of the pain disappeared in that instant. I then looked at my shoulder and saw the big gash. Couldn’t leave that open. I grabbed what bandages I had left and clumsily begin to wrap around my shoulder and under my armpit with my left hand. Now I knew how Seraph felt. My bandaging was mediocre, but it’ll have to do. Maybe I could find some antibiotics
But my chest and the rest of my arms were still exposed. I looked back at Pearl’s corpse and pulled out a dagger. I turned her onto her stomach and began.
“I mean no disrespect, Pearl. Forgive me.”
I didn’t want to do it, but I started to cut at her arena suit, starting at the waist line. Severing off pants, I pulled them off of her legs while squeezing my eyes shut. I might have just killed a woman, but I had enough respect to not look at one naked without consent. I turned around, working away from Pearl, as I cut a hole in the center of the garments, right between the pant legs. When I was done, I had made myself a really absurd, long sleeved crop top. At that moment, I thought about all the people who might have been watching me right now, especially the Capitolists. They must’ve been screaming in fear… at least at the fashion sin I had just made. I go back to Pearl, eyes closed and completely ignoring her bare lower body as I go to cut at the remaining outfit off of her. After removing the rest of the fabric off her body, I turned around once more, opened my eyes, and continued to tend at my wounds.
I peeled away at my own suit, taking it off just to the point where my upper torso was exposed. I applied the clump of cloth to my chest after cutting its blood stains off, putting pressure onto my pecs to stop my bleeding before I wrapped it into place with my bandages. After putting my crop top on and wearing my original outfit over it, I was ready to go. I unraveled the sleeping bag and added the tomahawks, daggers, whip, and soups in the center before rolling it back up, and using Pearl’s rope, made the sleeping bag wearable like a backpack. I didn’t bother to look back at Pearl’s body as I ran away, heat still circulating in my body and keeping me warm. I was done with her.
I ran as fast as I could to avoid anybody else coming to the scene. Even if the burning in my throat was killing me, I saw it as my flame, my furnace, the thing that kept me going. As oxygen rushed through my throat, I saw it as it fanning the flame. It made it blaze even more, but I kept going. I found the thought amusing, treating my asthma as my motivator.
By the time I stopped, I was wheezing uncontrollably. I fell to the ground, clutching at my throat to try and sooth it. I knew I wasn’t supposed to, but I began to eat at the snow, hoping that it would comfort my throat. It wasn’t much help, but I knew I couldn’t eat anymore. I got up again with my continuously itchy throat. I could feel a storm coming, and I decided to make shelter and sleep my injuries off.
With what little use I could use of my right arm, I dropped my stuff between these rows of snow banks, and using the depressions in these rows, started to construct my small, shameful igloo. The majority of the day went into building it large enough for me to fit in, primarily because of my lame arm and having to work gingerly with it.
I could see the sun beginning to set, and I couldn’t believe how many hours were put into this one mound of snow. It was 4 feet high and the diameter was probably 10 feet wide. It had a crawl space and a ventilation hole, yet despite all this, if you took a step back, it blended in with the snow bank. The perfect camouflage I thought to myself as I crawled in. I unwrapped my sleeping bag once more and grabbed the soup. It was still hot, to my surprise. Using its heat, I applied it to the areas of my body where it was sore. It was relieving, but only slightly. I open it and sniffed at the steam that looked more like a cloud as it rose to my face. I took a small sip. Salty, spicy, fatty, but most of all delicious. I slurped it down immediately and quickly, for the portion was much too small. I grabbed at the second container, and this time, I delicately sip at it, appreciating its flavor and warm caress of my throat down into my stomach. The steam from my soup was able to warm my small hut just enough that I wasn’t suffering in the blistering cold anymore. I patted some more snow into the entrance and kept my weapons hidden, yet close by, just in case someone stumbled upon my tiny home.
Slipping into my sleeping bag, I immediately began to feel it heat up with my body warmth. It had good insulation, and I was grateful for that. All of my body was numb from the cold at this point that I could barely even feel my injuries, yet all I could do at the moment was close my eyes and drift to sleep.
Just as soon as I went to sleep, I woke to a blaring anthem. I crawled out of my mound to see what was going on.
Not only did I see the beautiful stars that the night had to offer, but of the text that read
THE FALLEN
As Emily’s face disappeared, I saw Pearl’s icon, staring directly at me. I shuddered, closing my entrance again, and falling asleep.
I had a long dream, but the only thing I could remember from it was Pearl choking me with flaming hands. Her smile, stabbing at me.
There is music. Oh, nice. The arena has a theme song. It makes the experience just that much better. I usually like to listen to screamo when I’m fighting someone to death. It just gets me in the mood to slit someone’s throat, you know? Maybe it’s just that I’m an emo scene teen trapped in an arena where I’ll probably end up dead. The visages of tributes already dead are projected onto the sky. I’m not really sure how but whatever. A bunch of people I don’t know. But they’re dead, so that’s something. I mean, that could be me. So that possibility is excellent.
Blue bob. Hazel eyes. Smirk. Death glare hidden behind a mask. Pearl Rosier, District Eight. Dead. Dead? Pearl is dead. That boy killed her.
I just saw her-she greeted me warmly with a thermal blanket. The girl with electric blue hair, who laced the venom in her words with liquor. In training, she was awful. Awful in an excellent way, where she was confident and strong, and showed no mercy, but in a cool, badass way. Pearl was the worst and best person I have ever met. She was the mean girl who could do more than just be mean. Her insults were spoken with such a smooth voice that it took a moment for it to register. She had a horrendous personality. I loved it. She fostered my recklessness, in cutting each other’s hair. RIP in peace.
I turn away from Charlie. He seems to be equally upset. This is just great. Pearl is dead and now I have to be here with someone else. Nice. I really don’t want to deal with anyone right now. Should be really fun. How am I supposed to be around people when there’s something like a ninety-five percent chance they’re going to die? It doesn’t make sense to get close to somebody in a death arena. Oh, hey your hair looks great today! By the way, there’s a knife protruding from your chest.
I take my things and stuff them into my pack, leaving some crackers for Charlie. I trace out the word SORRY into the snow. I would like to leave something more sarcastic and witty, more Lola, but there isn’t really time for that because I actually have to worry about getting murdered now. Great. Thanks for everyone’s support.
I’m running. The wind is even sharper now. It slices across my face. The wind sends my bob into a frenzy, pink hairs flying this way and that as I run. I love the way it feels like I have thousands of gashes across my body. What a great way to end the day. Heading back towards the river, I approach the clearing which I was at earlier, and soon see the frozen river. I hope I drown.
All of my items zipped up in the backpack, which is secured to my back, I step onto the ice, preparing to cross. It’s as cold as my heart. Wonderful.
My encounter with Dory, the boy from Four, was too fucking close. I’ve been on my ass after making my way into the forest, hiding in the bushes and biding my time. I’m fucked, but not too fucked.
After that particular incident, I feel like I’ve waited enough, and I squeeze out of hiding, brushing past a growth of thickets and trees until I make my way onto an animal trail, snaking its way through the forest. I still have some light left in the day, so I proceed through path, worn down by thousands of tiny animal paws over the years. My heart is doing a weird double-time rhythm, and I’m kind of scared out of my goddamn mind, but otherwise I’m doing pretty good, so far, for having hid the entire afternoon. Let’s go, world. Fucking fight me.
I proceed through the forest trail, weaving around trees and bushes, waiting for something interesting to happen.
