Thunder Hawk D9 {done!}

You run through the woods as fast as you can as the wind flies through the air. Your shaggy, curly, light blonde hair flies gently behind your back with each step you take. Your thin, tiny legs carry you quickly moving as fast as you can. The gentle patter of your feet as they strike the ground rings through the air echoing off the trees bouncing around before entering one ear and flying out of the other forever. A large grin grows against your face as every muscle in your body relaxes from the stresses of the day looking for the much needed escape. Your arms fly through the air staying in sync with the rest of your body as you turn your head towards the left. A voice flows through the air, sounding like it's coming through a tunnel, and you sprint as fast as you can away from the mess unsure of what to do. People flash before your tiny, angular brown eyes, each glances from one side of the woods to another wondering why you are here, trapped, lost.

A puddle of water flashes before your eyes as beams from the sun reflects into your eyes. You raise your hand shielding your eyes as your feet carry you closer and closer wondering what could possibly be inside. A pale face stares back at you mirroring your every movement. Your ears hide behind your hair making it appear like you don't have any. Tiny, black, soft eyebrows sit above your eyes, and you often wonder why they are there. Tiny cheeks set carefully below your eyes only making your face look thinner than it really is. You point a finger into the water laughing as your finger flies through your nose. You hate your nose, it's large and out of proportion with the rest of your body except your lips. Your lips are huge, like someone has punched you in the face repeatedly, and the swelling has never gone down. Your chin is tiny, you like your chin, though, other people doesn't. You constantly rub your hand along your chin when you think as it helps you understand.

The sound of your stomach rumbling rings through your ears as you place a hand upon your belly trying to soothe it- you never get enough to eat. You wait for the leftovers from the table as you want everyone else to eat before you- it gives them a chance for survival as they deserve so much better than you. Your life crashed through the air into the depths of the earth the moment Jabber was reaped for the games. You starved yourself as he went on his journey only ending in death. Survival was the goal of everyone around, and he wanted to survive, but the others wanted it more. Your eyes remained glued to the screen as the bloodbath began, you watched, in pain, as they ganged up on him tossing him around leaving him unable to fight. You screamed begging them to stop, but it wasn't enough. After all, you were home, and he was there. No matter how loud you screamed, he wouldn't hear you. The people standing next to you heard you, but your words were drowned out as the next tribute fell.

A year had passed when the announcement of the quarter quell broke your tiny heart. You weren't old enough for the reaping, but you understood what it meant- more children being taken away pinned against one another in the arena fighting for survival. Your cousins were old enough, though. Adrenaline surged through your veins as you stood in the crowd waiting for the names of those who were unlucky. The girls name allowed a sigh to escape from your lips as bad as you hate to admit it, but it wasn't someone you knew. Your head spun the moment Storm's name echoed throughout the square. Tears poured down your face as you watched him walk towards the stage with fear etched in every part of his body. He stared out in the crowd not caring who saw him as tears flowed down his face. Not a single person moved to save him, you weren't old enough to save him. You didn't say goodbye because you were afraid.

Time passed slowly as he journeyed through the training center. You laughed at his score of two in training, but Storm was gentle, kind, he'd never hurt a fly, and you knew in the back of your mind he would be destroyed in the games. You watched his interview, and he made you proud. He wasn't afraid, at least he wasn't showing it. You took in every word he said embracing in the back of your skull forever. It could easily be the last words you ever heard him spoke. You didn't sleep, you didn't eat. Your parents worried about you, but you told them over and over again you were okay when you never were. Dark circles formed under your eyes, and you grew skinnier each and every day. Teachers sent letters home from school wanting to meet with your parents because you stopped caring. You froze in class, and they were worried. They said you were there, but you weren't.

The angry voices of your parents filled your ears as they scolded you for not doing well in school. You weren't purposely failing, but you couldn't get them to understand. You tried to tell them what happened, but nobody seemed to care. You were setting in class paying attention, and someone would mention Storm's name, and you froze. Your heart raced under your chest as your breathing became labored. Your hands shook at your side, and people laughed thinking you were faking it. Everything stopped making sense as you moved around. People would call your name, and it was like they were speaking far away, but you could see them standing near you. Your teacher stared at you pointing his finger wanting you to calm down and stop being disruptive. The world around you moved away, and it felt like the floor was moving beneath your feet. You tried to stand, but you fell, and you could hear the laughter ringing through your ears. You closed your eyes begging for it all to end.

Anger flashes before your eyes as you look at the faces of your parents. Your tiny heart shatters seeing so much anger in them- they were never angry. They loved you, they cared about you, they still love you, they still care about you, but it's hard to see. They want you to succeed, yet they never understand the pain living inside your body. They beg you to eat, but you don't. You threw a fit when they asked you to sit at the table for a family dinner. All you wanted was to watch the games and see how Storm was doing. You wanted to make sure he was okay. He's your cousin, and you love him. You want him to return home just as you wanted Jabber, but they killed him, broke him into tiny pieces so he'd return home before anyone even cared. They would turn the small tv on in the house, and you'd stay in front of it for hours waiting for the moment the bloodbath began. You swore you wouldn't leave the tv.

You made a promise to Storm stating you would only eat and drink water when he did. You wanted to suffer with him- you thought it would help him return. The moment the twenty-four tributes rose into the arena, your eyes were glued to the screen. You chanted his name willing him to do well. You watched as he sprinted towards the cornucopia. You watched as he fought through the bloodbath with no problems at all. You watched as he gathered items before taking off running into the giant maze surrounding the cornucopia. It was like the maze he read about in his books all the time. You loved listening to him read because reading was never a strong point of yours. You loved how passionate he was about his books, they meant the world to him, and you wanted to figure out why. He always had one with him, and it's strange for you to see him on the screen without one as he fights onward.

Your parents begged you to sleep because you weren't sleeping. You stayed away watching Storm making sure he was okay. You didn't want to leave in case he needed you. They sat water down beside you, but you wouldn't touch it. You didn't want to touch it because Storm was going without it. If he wasn't drinking any water, why should you? You pushed off to the side waiting for the moment he picked up the water jug he had and drank from it. He made you proud as he carried the weapon high in the sky fighting for his survival. He was doing well, and you were happy. A grin spread from ear to ear across your face as you shouted wishing him well. At night, you were his guard although you weren't there. You shouted at the screen if anything felt out of the ordinary not caring if he heard you or not. You knew he couldn't hear you, but you didn't care. You loved him, and wanted to protect him.

Screams filled the house as you watched the girl from twelve sever his arm completely off his body. Tears poured down your face as you slammed your fist into the screen. You walked away, not forever, but momentarily. Your feet carried you into the kitchen where an extremely dull knife was laying on the table. If Storm must lose his arm, you were going to suffer with him. You wanted to be strong for him, but you were weak. You couldn't think straight as you raised the knife into the air. The patter of footsteps echoed in the distance bouncing around the walls. You slammed the knife into your arm, and you screamed. A waterfall of tears poured down your face as you drug the knife back and forth. Fire danced across your arm wondering how he took it so easily. It was clean, fast. Your mother screams when she sees you, and she jerks the knife from your hand scolding you again for being a bad boy.

She nursed your wound putting gauze around it holding pressure on the cut you placed upon your own arm. Your eyes returned towards the screen watching Storm. You felt bad for him, you wanted to help him, but you couldn't- you were only a boy. You watched as he filled his jug with water before boiling the water on a fire. You reached your hand around the glass of water setting before you. You chugged the water allowing it to fill your body rejuvenating everything about you. Your stomach roared begging for food, but you watched Storm. He didn't eat, so you weren't going to eat. You watched him as he laid on the ground begging his ally to kill him if the time came down to it. Your hands pounded into the ground as red flashed before your eyes. He shouldn't be talking about death, but he was there fighting, and you knew he'd either die, or kill others, but you didn't want him to die.

The next day, you watched as the sun rose into the arena. You watched the boys, and the girl fight hard. You watched as Storm threatened the girl who took his arm. You cheered for joy as he severed her foot clean off her body. Your mother sit down beside you begging you to eat something as you hadn't ate since the games began. Storm survived three days without food, and you knew you were just as strong as him. You watched as a sword cut through the head of his ally. You watched as panic broke out upon his face as blood poured down his chin. He was dying, and he knew he was. Your hands clenched into fists as you fought watching him. You watched the boy kill the girl who killed his ally.You chanted for joy, but your rejoicing was a moment too late. Storm fell towards the ground dead. You threw the full glass of water against the screen. You kicked the table out of the way. Your fists pounded against the ground. Your eyes snapped shut, and your entire body shook. He was dead, and you didn't want to believe it.

Blackness surrounded you as they called your name. Your eyes flashed open glancing around the room trying to figure out what had happened. Your parents stood above you with tears in their eyes. They told you they love you, and they care about you. You weren't sure what to expect. "Love you too." Your voice is soft and weak. You turned your head causing pain to surge through your body. Tears flow down your face as they force you to drink a glass of water. You fought against it, but your body was too weak. You couldn't hold your head up by yourself. Your father sat behind you, holding onto you, so you wouldn't fall over. Every muscle clenched together as the liquid poured into your mouth. Everyone was quiet, and it bothered you. It was a horrible feeling, but you didn't understand what was going on. Your eyes met the eyes of your father's, and you knew something was wrong. Hints of joy danced in his eyes, but hidden behind the joy was pain.

"What happened?" Your words were quiet. You were afraid of speaking. He stared at you as tears poured from his eyes. Your mother sat down on the other side of you, both holding you closely- you didn't understand. "Never do that to us again." Tears poured down her face as the words were full of pain causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand. She placed her head against your's as your gaze met your father's. "We almost lost you. You have to eat. You have to drink water. You have to sleep. You were almost dead. Never do that to us again." You nodded your head in agreement, and you knew what had happened. Everything he mentioned was nothing you did while you watched Storm in the games. Someone brings a mirror over in front of you. Your eyes widen with fear. Your ribs are extremely noticeable. Your breast plate stuck out more than anything in the world. It was like someone just took your skin and stuck it on your bones. You looked like a ghost, pale, weak, and skinny unable to survive by yourself.

You shake your head as you remove your eyes from the water. Tears flow freely like a waterfall as your hands run up and down your sides. It's still possible for anyone to count your ribs, and it seems like it would be noticeable through your shirt, but somehow you keep it hidden. You look around wondering what could possibly go wrong in your life now, but the more you think about it the more you regret it. You know in the back of your mind you could be reaped and sent to the same demise as Jabber and Storm. You turn away from the puddle and your feet move in stride like you never even stopped running. A grin plasters against your face as you run as fast as you can. It's been a tough last few years for you and your family, and you don't want to give up, but at times it seems like giving up is the best option. Your parents still worry constantly as your teacher always shares bad news with them. You don't try to be a troublemaker, but it happens. You just want someone to notice you, and tell you life is worth living no matter what happens.