Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Sorry!!

Sorry I haven't done a post in a while!! Here's the What if? continuation I did for my school project. Do not copy or use without direct permission.

Mockingjay: The Capitol Games
Katniss Everdeen. Against all odds, she was the victor of the 74th Hunger Games, along with Peeta Mellark. This defied my grandfather, President Snow, who has now passed away.  Then the star-crossed lovers of District 12 started a revolution with Panem, versus the Capitol and their alliance of District 2. This was the first uprising since the Hunger Games were created. President Coin and Katniss the mockingjay next led the nation’s districts to victory. At this point, with her true love Peeta hijacked, and her sister Prim dead, she made the terrible decision that changed many lives. Katniss carried the vote that created the final Hunger Games, but instead used Capitol children. Therefore, I am being thrown into the arena now.
            The shiny metal plate I am fixed on rose slowly into the darkness. My arms shivered and I tried to warm myself against the brisk winds. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed the water, the icebergs, and the Cornucopia. Each massive chunk of ice was five feet away from the next. This route led to the tundra and a few scrawny trees, but no supplies whatsoever. The other path I could take would lead to the Cornucopia, but was a straight, sturdy course. The announcer’s voice told me I had twenty seconds to make my selection.
            The piercing sound of the gong rattled my skull. In the pale moonlight, I shuffled towards the secure path, deciding not to risk slipping on the small ice chunks. I wouldn’t be victor then! To my left, I saw three tributes die for that exact reason. Thankfully the water was so cold their deaths were instant. Good choice, I thought to myself. Darting as swiftly as I could, I was fourth to the Cornucopia. Before anyone detected my arrival, I was able to grab two backpacks, a 3 by 3 foot square of plastic, two pairs of socks, a thin blanket, an ax, a sword, and a small pot. The wet, slick ice was starting to crack. Not just slightly, but significantly. How I could escape this fate was a mystery. That’s when I found out, I couldn’t.
            This is definitely a first. The water was warm and quickly draining. Each of the remaining tributes hit the bottom with a deafening thud. Then the sky started to fall. I hastily covered my head with the pot and backpacks. The formerly navy sky turned to deep gray steel. Closing my eyes, I waited for it to end.
            Boom! The sound of the cannons, which signaled ten deaths in the bloodbath. When my eyelashes fluttered open, I accustomed to the dim, flickering light. With the secret knowledge my grandfather gave me about the Games, I knew this was his idea for the third quarter quell, before Katniss came into the picture. An underground maze. He detailed me with all of the aspects of this design. The first two that made it to the end of the maze at the top lived. When they arrived there, the left over tributes would gradually be flattened by the steel. The final two fought each other in an ultimate battle. This knowledge works greatly to my advantage. I am aware of where all the paths are laid out, as well as which one will lead me to the end. 
            Rushing through the maze, the twists and turns were so familiar. I had the biggest grin plastered on my face. It seemed too easy. There had to be some sort of trick. I wonder if Katniss, one of the gamemakers, even knew this was my grandfather's idea. The thought that my grandfather created what could result in my death is ironic. However, it’s in that twisted, deadly way. My guess is that she did, but who knows wha- Ugh! Oh darn, it’s a tribute. Not just any tribute though. It’s Vernonicana.
            She’s my best friend. No, scratch that. My crazy, deadly, currently knife wielding, former, best friend. Well, if either of us win, it still can only be one. She was clearly shocked. It was extremely unlikely that anyone would confront other tributes. Before she could steady herself, I smacked her in the head with my pot. No cannon. I was not going to be her killer, but I couldn’t risk dying this early, not with my dignity at stake. Gathering my supplies, I scurried out as fast as possible. There was no one else in sight, not that I was expecting anyone. That was fine with me!
Light flooded my eyes. I did it! All around me was a clear meadow with a lake and the Cornucopia. Now just to wait. Boom! Again? How many deaths could there be in one day? Apparently, eleven more since the bloodbath. That means only two other children are breathing the air I am, and two of us won’t be for long. They’re almost certainly on an alliance, and eliminating me will be their first move when they get here. Unfortunately for them, that won’t last long, as the second to attempt entering the meadow will die from suffocation.
The sound of yet another thunderous cannon startled me. So much for an alliance, I guess. Leisurely exiting the maze was not the career I expected, but the youngest tribute to ever enter an arena. It was Justine Maidenhair, from the poorer section of the Capitol. She wielded a mace and a sword like a maniac. What happened to the sweet, frail girl I grew up with, I don’t know. No, I couldn’t do it. I dropped all my supplies, and held my arms up in surrender. That’s when I received the surprise and scarring of a lifetime. She raised her sword, and slit her throat. The sword fell out of her hand, clanging to the ground, and her body soon followed. I rushed to her side, and I knew from the amount of blood seeping through her shirt I would be victor. She was still alive, but her breaths were raspy and short. Using my ax, I ended her suffering. It was for the best. The final cannon and everything went foggy, then black.
I woke up surrounded in white. Strapped to a table, all the events and emotions from the Games came flooding back to me. My tear stained face was dry but I quickly adjusted to my environment. Standing in the corner of the room, was the one, the only, Katniss Everdeen. “Congratulations,” she said, “I specifically made this arena for you. Your grandfather created it, but you knew that, didn’t you?” I owe her no thanks or respect. The only reason I’ve lost my friends, family, and purpose is her. With no training, mentors, sponsors, or any advantages they got in their Games, we Capitol children were thrown into the arena. The middle class citizens were strong, healthy, and knew how to survive having just enough. I don’t want her in here, making me feel guilty and regretful. “I’m so sorry. I never understood your pain and loss until now.” I lied. That seemed sufficient. But she retorted, “Understand? You’ll never understand how much I gave up so our ways as a homeland could be changed. I changed my family, life, reason, personality, and other people’s, too! Did you even know that?”
She tore out of that room so fast. I truly don’t know the damage done to her. But what could I do? It’s not my fault.
Collins, Suzanne. Mockingjay. New York City: Scholastic, 2010. Print.

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1 comment:

  1. Hi Morgan,
    It's Abbie from Abbie Piano and I'm just letting you that my link is now www.welcometomypalace1998.blogspot.com.
    -Abbie.

    ReplyDelete

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