Go To War {Oliver v. Ground Sloth | Day 3)

Always told you not to love me
Now look what you made me do
I got poison in my pocket,
told you I was bad news

The night following the second day that I was in the arena for the eightieth Hunger Games was really quite rough, seeing Faux's face lit up in the sky to signify the fact that he had died in this place. It had been difficult enough seeing him die initially, when that boy from Two split his skull open with a crudely made spiked blunt weapon, but now, seeing a picture of his face from when he was alive and still full of hope, just made me remember the life leaving those once-lively eyes. He'd been such a good person, and now it was, in a way, my fault that he was gone.

Faux Rhodes was dead, and it was because of my. Oliver Wren would forever possess the guilt of his dear friend's death.

"I'm sorry, Faux. It's my fault, and I'm so, so sorry." I whispered this into the darkness as his face started to fade from its display in the sky. I clenched my fist, feeling anger at myself for what I had done, allowing him to be killed like that, all because of my recklessness.

The second face in the sky, to my relief, wasn't Fiona. It also wasn't Carmen, either, which was also a rather relieving thing, for me. It was someone I didn't know, who I believe was the boy from District Twelve, and although I'm sure it sounds cruel to be relieved by the death of a stranger, I was glad it wasn't one of my friends. When the boy's face appeared in the sky, I whispered something.

"Thank you for your sacrifice. Rest well," I said.

I didn't know him, but the boy deserved to be at peace, just as Faux did.

I feel like some people didn't deserve to be at peace, however. Like, those who had killed another human being.

Those like Shy Aubergine.

Shy had killed Faux, and when he did, I didn't say much to him. Instead, I had run off like a pathetic wimp who didn't know what to do. Then again, wasn't that exactly what I was? A clueless, pathetic wimp of a boy from District Eight who'd run recklessly into a fight, seen his friend killed, and ran off after the fact, terrified of letting any of his other friends get hurt because of him.

I knew that I needed to show him that I wasn't a wimp- that I wasn't a pathetic person.

Therefore, after I'd already sent a letter to Fiona and caught another one of those Delivery Words, I took out my pen and notepad, and scribbled a note for Shy Aubergine.

"Hello. My name is Oliver Wren. You killed my friend. Prepare to die."

It was a threat to show that I wasn't afraid, even though, in all reality, I was terrified. I wasn't scared of Shy in particular, but I was scared of what I'd be facing in the days ahead of me in this wretched arena. Who knew what would happen the next morning? Would I live to see it? How about the sunset that followed, or the next day's sunrise?

I didn't sleep that night, after I saw the faces of Faux and that other boy in the sky. I stayed up, just looking at the fake stars that the Gamemakers had put into an all too artificial sky for all of us, trapped here below it.

---

When the sun finally came up, I started off, heading out of the terribly petrifying forest of petrified wood and dead trees.

When I was walking, a bird, quite similar to the one I'd sent to Fiona, landed nearby. I took a rolled up piece of paper from its claws, and when I unrolled it, a button fell out.

The letter was from Fiona, and although some of her words seemed kind, others stung quite hard. When she said it didn't matter anymore... it showed she no longer cared, and that scared me. If I ended up face to face with her in the end, would she be willing to kill me without a second thought?

I ended up venturing into a much more lively forest after that, full of gorgeous, tall trees. It was much more aesthetically pleasing than what I'd seen in that other mess that one may decide to refer to as the woods. This particular forest, however, was a bit too lively for my liking. As I started walking, I heard a noise behind me, only to turn around and see something that put a terrible chill down my spine.

It was a sloth, but it was ten feet tall and overall, quite frankly, genuinely terrifying.

I wasn't going to let this thing kill me, which meant that I had to strike first.

My demeanor made you wait,
but the consequences stayed
I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was a case

song: 27 hours

table credit to dars!
776 words