I woke up, tears dried to my face. I held my stomach as it growled, if I didn’t eat something soon, I would surely die. I tried to stand, but tumbled over. I was sure it was from dehydration. The sun was beating down hard, and I hadn’t had a drop of water since before the bloodbath. I was done for.
I stood again, trying to balance as I held my pickaxe. I took a step forward. My head was spinning and I couldn’t see straight. I had never felt so terrible in all my life. There was something in the air, it felt thicker. I spun around, looking for a source of anything. Something smelled, and I knew it couldn’t be good. I had to move, even if it killed me, I couldn’t stop.
I used every bit of strength in my to walk towards the mountain with great haste. I was at the bottom, and closed my eyes for a moment to try and recall what I had learned with Colt in training. I thought about Colt for a moment, he was still alive, as I had not seen his face in the sky, but how long would he last. I hoped more than anything that it would be him that would return home, maybe he could offer my parents some comfort.
I flipped up my collar, stuffing my face deep inside my jacket so just my eyes poked out the top. I began my descent up the hill, often switching to crawling, as I could not stand up straight.
It seemed like I had been walking for hours when I finally couldn’t go any more. I dropped to the ground, staring up at the sun and practically begging for death.
“Please.” I choked out. Maybe Holland was watching, maybe she could see that I needed help. She favored Colt, I knew that, but she couldn’t let me starve, could she? I needed food. I needed water.
I laid there, just praying I would be saved.
What were my parents thinking. I bet father was so disappointed with me. I bet everyone was. My District made me into a joke. I disgraced the family name. I would not die a coward, I would not die a warrior.
