Scarred and Frozen: [Scarface] (DAY 1)

“Midas” I said with a wind of breath as my lungs started to regain consciousness. “Yeah?” he said with a smirk on his face, bringing my nervous spirit back down to grounded earth. He is so good at that. “I’m glad it was us. Out of the alliance.” I finished, now breathing and calm. I felt like I had offended Mike and Ceres, but the thought of knowing that their souls had passed on to the safe afterlife comforted me.
I wanted to be safe, that’s all I wanted. The feeling of constantly turning your head, listening carefully to every sound, watching Midas’s back was overwhelming, and in a way I was jealous of our friend’s safety. Sure, that psychotic girl from District 12 had probably all but eaten the flesh she carved out of Mike’s corpse, and Ceres was covered in a pool of her own blood, but I knew they were safe. Elise! What are you thinking? I yell in my head, snapping out of my pessimistic, depressing mental rant. It’s time to fight, time to be strong, time to unleash the girl from District 11 who could kick any guy’s ass.

With a determined glow on my face, I looked over at Midas’s perfect, yet imperfect face. He was beautiful, everything I hoped to find in a boy when I grew up, everything that I saw in Paedar. The most perfect part of him was ironically his scar, the blazing emblem of courage, passion, bravery, that illuminated both of our weary faces. In that moment, I decided to summon my inner fighter and try to help our grumbling stomachs and dry throats. Sure there was snow and ice everywhere, but knowing the Games, that was way too risky. I needed to hunt like I had mastered back home. Surely there were some small animals I could trap- oh wait, I don’t have anything besides as dagger, a rucksack and a snow shovel. Shit.

Although Midas and I were rendered hopeless with no rope, no wire, no matches for him to make fire, no pots to boil water with, and no knowledge of plants, I felt hopeful. I felt like no matter what, Midas and I would protect each other, and although we were trapped in a clostrophobic yet gigantic arena, I felt like no one could touch me. No ONE that is, but I unfortunately didn’t factor in any other dangers. With a roaring gust and a loud rustling of the frozen leaves on the trees, I tried to pick myself up, but fell back out of sheer pain from the gash on my arm and chest. I needed to rest my body, but my mind was on overdrive. The wind only continued to pick up, my heart growing with fear, knowing it could mean one of several things.

One- the wind was blowing quite ferociously, that was all. Two- The game makers wanted us dead and were trying to knock trees down and harm us. Three- there were several tributes barreling at us, full speed and their sheer acceleration caused the wind to shriek. Luckily, as I found the strength to pull myself up and stand on my knees, it was the first possibility.

Although I knew nothing was coming besides the sheer gale force, I wrapped my arms around my torso, fearing that my comfortable, warm clothes would blow right off. If I couldn’t hang onto them, and if Midas couldn’t hang on to his, we’d be popsicles in the making. Surely with my experience in District 11’s warm atmosphere, I’d be the first to die. I held on tight as the wind continued to grow stronger, stronger, and stronger, my hood blowing back off of my face and my hair blowing back like I was in a wind tunnel. My eyes widened and with one hand, I grabbed onto Midas, hoping that our strength would carry us safely through. Suddenly, my arms flew back, unable to withstand the wind, especially my left arm which was throbbing with pain, the scarf still tighlt wrapped around.

My jacket is, as much as I try to withstand the wind, flying right off of my body, leaving me with just my turtleneck and my sweatpants. "Shit!" I yell loudly as the jacket flies off into the find and I dart after it. After blowing a few feet, it hits a tree, dead center and stops. Running with all my might, I grab the jacket with my right hand and wrap the arms around the small tree, tying a knot and making sure that it doesn't fly off again. In the blinding gust of snow, I try to make out Midas's outline, but can barely see his boots through the thick snow, holding onto the tree for dear life.

[tries to catch jacket]
[dice=6]
SUCCESS

“Damnit!” I heard a strong voice say from behind the impenitrable cloud of snow. I knew it was Midas and he hadn't been so fortunate with catching his jacket. Suddenly my heart raced, panicked, and I knew that without that jacket, Midas would be dead, from hypothermia, in a mater of days... if we both made it that long...

I felt the wind die down, the snow settling back on the ground and my eyes opening wider again with vision. I see Midas, not far away, steaming red and visibly angry with himself. He took a different approach than I did, angry instead of scared. Sure he still had his turtleneck, but it would only keep him warm for a day or two. Watching his red face and his jaw clench with anger, I untie my jacket from around the tree and walk back over next to him, my legs steady with strength, my arm throbbing with soreness, my chest tight and in pain. "Midas," I sputter out, "don't worry about it. You won't need it for a few days anyways, we can kill someone and take theirs." I say, shocked by the words coming out of my own mouth.

'We can kill someone'. 4 sickening words that I never expected to come out of my mouth, until I was reaped. Now I find myself thinking of quick and easy ways to kill the other tributes, where to hunt, and how to protect my gashes. Hunting! That was it, that would surely make Midas feel better! I would hunt, find something small for him to cook, and we could sit around the fire. That's what I would do. Bending down to grab my dagger and my rucksack, I look at Midas as I stand back up and say, "I'm going to go find something to eat. You will make a fire so you can stay warm and we can boil some water. I don't trust this damn white snow." Without even waiting for a response, I immediately turn around and head into the woods nearby and peer around for some game.

After about 5 minutes of searching, I stop in my tracks. I hear rustling through the frozen leaves, and patch of white fur coalesceing with the white snow. Yes! I think to myself as I raise my right hand with the dagger and walk slowly towards it. When I'm within a couple of feet, I bend forward and it still doesn't move. Taking a deep breath in, I clench the dagger and throw it full force towards the animal. "Hell yes!" I shout out as my dagger pierces the beautiful white skin of a small fox. It shot upwards as I threw the knife, but luckily, the dagger punctured its neck.

Running over to remove my dagger and make sure it was dead, I see that the animal is motionless and its eyes are wide with fear. Part of me feels bad, terrible for taking the beautiful animal's life, but then I remember I'm in the Hunger Games, trying to murder 23 other teenagers. Immediately I feel nothing more than pride. Picking it up with both hands, the rucksack flung over my shoulder, I examine its body and it's red blood starts to run all over my hands. Normally, I would be disgusted, squeel out in horror and wipe the blood off immediately, but it felt soothing. With the fox's blood on my hands, my blood on my arm and chest, and splatters of the kid's I had slashed with my dagger, I felt coated and could care less. This was such a strange, sickening scenario.

I stand up on my feet again, almost losing balance on the uneven slope of ground. I throw the fox's body inside of my rucksack and walk back to Midas, beaming with joy. When I emerge from the trees I spot him, "Hey Midas, you hungry?" I say, removing the carcas from the bag and proudly holding it up by the tail.

[tries to kill small game]
[dice=2]
SUCCESS