Contest: The 140th Hunger Games

Host: THGF1234

I wasn't used to movement. I'd barely left my house since I won the Hunger Games the first time around and now they wanted me to do it again? Depression, self-harm, attempted suicide, mental breakdowns; did the Capitol care about any of that? Apparently not, or they wouldn't have forced both my brother and I into a game we'd already won before. And this time, we wouldn't even have each other when it was all over.

Everything passed me by in a blur; the training, parade, and interview. The shock of my current situation just wasn't allowing my brain to process anything. But the moment my platform rose upward into a blisteringly cold whirl of white and my eyes caught sight of the icy surface below me the fuzzy wall around my brain shattered and fear took its place.

Water.

Frozen water.

There was something truly evil in putting a girl with mental instability issues over a huge pond of frozen water. A loud robotic voice jerks me out of my daze, I glance up sharply to see a series of numbers scrolling against the white-blue sky. The countdown.

The icy chill was starting to seep into my already aching muscles; I was terribly out of shape and training had kicked my ass. But maybe I wouldn't even need it, maybe I could just step off... I breathe in sharply, tugging my foot back from the edge of the platform and clenching my fingers in my loose curls.

No, no, no. Bad Mia, bad.

Death is bad.

I bite my lip, enjoying the metallic taste that spreads over my tongue. The pain, and the tangy taste of metal, helps me to focus and grasp ahold of my frail sanity. A loud, shrill noise erupts throughout the arena and several tributes lunge from their platforms. But I find myself unable to move, my feet staying firmly rooted to the platform.

"No, no, no." I whisper, staring at the watery surface and imagining what it would be like to fall through. The terror, the sheer terror. I just couldn't... I couldn't even think about it.

"No, no, no. I won't. No." I announce to no one but myself, crossing my arms over my chest and sinking down into a sitting position. "I'm not moving." I snap, glaring at the ice as if it were mocking me. "You can't make me." Something hard comes down on my shoulder and I let out an involuntary shriek. On instinct, I swing my arm back and catch their wrist in my hand, prepared to twist –

"I swear if you break my wrist I'll leave you here." A calm voice threatens, his voice low and deadly. I relax, glancing upward into my brother's blank face, save for the amused look in his eyes.

"Sorry." I respond, releasing his wrist. Nick nods and peaks a glance at the Cornucopia before looking back at me.

"We need to move Mia, now." Nick urges, reaching for my hand. A surge of panic rises up in me and I tumble backward, hugging my legs to my chest and shaking my head vehemently.

"No, I'm not moving from here." Nick's eyes soften and he tilts his head slightly.

"You'll freeze to death."

"I'd rather that than drown." Nick steps back from the platform and jumps up and down on the ice.

"You won't drown, Mia. The ice is solid. See?" He jumps again, kicking his heels against the surface. I cringe with each action, silently begging him to stop. "Come on Mia, we need to move." He bites out, stepping up beside me and grasping my upper arm. I shake my head, an intense shivering starting to spread across my body.

"No."

"Mia, please." A sudden image flutters through my mind; one where I'm stuck under the ice with no way out and silently drowning to death. A streak of terror spikes a rush of adrenaline and I shriek, covering my face with my hands.

"No! Go without me!" I shout, shoving Nick's arm away. He blinks in surprise and backs away with a begrudging nod before sprinting toward the Cornucopia. I tuck my head into my arms and rock back and forth, singing the tune Nick taught me for when I start to freak out and can't find my sanity anymore.

A sudden swirl of pain erupts throughout my back. I jerk and lunge forward, accidentally diving off my platform and onto the ice. Shards of ice dig into my palms, drawing blood that smears over the icy surface. My eyes widen and panic overtakes me. Pushing to my feet, I dart forward, barely paying any attention to where I'm headed. A large, metal form hovers before me with a mountain of supplies seated inside it, with a shock, I realize I'd run right into the bloodbath.

A powerful force slams into my side, sending me flying into the icy and smacking my head in the process. I hiss with pain, slowly pushing myself up and addressing the fiery pain raging throughout my left side. My shoulder and thigh were screaming from ice burn and the bones felt like they'd been crushed. The world swirls before me and a terrible thumping reverberates through my skull.

A dark form hovers over me and I glance upward, cringing into the bright light to see a girl with brown hair and gray eyes staring down murderously at me. There was an arrow in her hand and a bow strapped around her torso. She looked terrifying.

She tilts her head and cracks a malicious grin, lifting her foot as if to crush my ankle. Fighting against the fuzziness coating my brain, I kick my foot out and swipe it around her ankle, knocking her to the ground. She lands on the ice with a thud, the arrow tumbling from her hands as she moans, holding the back of her head with her hand.

"Bitch!" She screams, rolling onto her side. I pull my legs back and stumble to my feet, wavering slightly with the pounding in my skull.

"Thanks for the compliment." I snap back, all thoughts of the water beneath me forgotten. My only focus was on this girl and her rather annoying existence. She huffs and pushes to her feet, reaching back to pull the bow over her head. I lunge forward, allowing instinct to overpower thought and do a forward flip against the ice, jamming my foot up under her chin.

She cries out, stumbling back and holding her hand against her nose, which was currently gushing blood. Funny, since I hadn't actually hit her there. Her bow lay a few feet away, having been carelessly thrown to the side. But the quiver of arrows still sat comfortably against her back.

She charges, her arms outstretched and her head bent like a bull. For a split second, I see a piece of the ice break off and all my fears come crashing down me. My entire body stiffens, freezing me in place and I fail to dodge out of the way as the girl throws her full body weight at me.

We go sprawling against the ice, limbs and bodies intertwined in a net of blood, hair, and struggling fingers. She manages to wrap her hand around my throat and begins to press in on my windpipe. I gasp, already feeling light-headed from having the wind knocked out of me once.

I reach upward with blind fingers, desperately searching for something on her that I can use to my advantage. My fingers brush the buckle of the quiver and I run my thumb over the sharp point on the clasp. Fighting against the encroaching darkness, I fumble against the buckle until I can manage to unclip it. Drawing together my last remaining strength, I thrust the sharp point upward, shoving it deep within her chest.

She gasps, her eyes widening as the clasp cuts into her chest, digging between her ribs. The fingers around my throat loosen and I practically choke on the air that rushes down my starving lungs. Gritting my teeth, I shove her struggling body away from me and scurry into a seating position, drawing in huge gulps of air and holding one hand to my swimming head.

Swimming.

Water.

A shrill squeal tumbles from my lips and I jump to my feet, balancing on my toes as I begin a deranged little dance in the middle of the frozen pond. "No, no, no!" I chant, clasping my hands over my ears to block out the sounds of war all around me.

"Mia!" Two strong hands grasp ahold of my waist and spin me around to stare into the angry eyes of my older brother. There was a deep cut on his forehead that was steadily dripping blood and a dark pool of liquid discolored the whiteness of his tribute uniform near his torso.

"Are you –?" I question.

"It's not mine. I mean, the head wound is mine but the blood there," he gestures to the puddle of blood on his stomach. "is not mine. Though I imagine the owner's in need of it." He smiles lopsidedly and wraps his bloodstained hand around my own.

"Come on, time to go."

"Wait." I say, pulling my hand from his and spinning around to face the girl gasping on the ground, a trickling of blood pooling from her chest wound. Calmly, trying not to think of the water, I pick up the bow and steal the quiver, knowing my brother will be very happy to have the weapon later when we're in need.

"Thank you for you cooperation." I mutter, addressing the girl on the ground. I had the overwhelming urge to kill her. I recognized it as the bloodlust from my last games; one of the reasons I'd won.

No, death is bad.

I chide myself, shaking my head to dislodge those thoughts. Instead, I pull my foot back and smash it against the side of her skull.

"Is she dead?" Nick wonders, his arms crossed over his chest a few feet away.

"No, but should I check?" He nods, a doubtful look in his eyes. He was well aware of my past and my failure to control myself, but I swear I hadn't killed her. With a sigh, I bend down and press two fingers against her neck, hearing the steady, yet weak, heart beat racing against her skin.

"No, she'll be fine. Probably wake up with a killer headache though." He sighs, relief flooding through him.

"Can we go now?" Nick asks, readjusting the backpack strapped to his back, the one I hadn't even noticed until just now.

"Yeah, let's go." I get to my feet and hold my hand out, gesturing for him to hand me the backpack so he can have the bow.

"Mia, I got it." He snaps, beginning a fevered walk across the ice and I noticed a slight limp in his step. I huff and roll my eyes, tip toeing my way over the ice so as not to break it.

"Stop being so self-righteous and give me the damn backpack. You can wear the bow, I have no talent for it and you'll need it if we come across someone. Here." I bark, thrusting the bow and quiver out to him. He grumbles something unintelligent under his breath and swipes the bow from my hand, shrugging out of the backpack.

"I got this for you too." He mumbles, handing me a set of knives clipped into a cross body strap along with a bundle of poison darts.

"Aw, weapons. Thanks big brother. Jacket, yes?" I question, swinging the knives over my head and tucking the darts into a pocket on the side of my leg. Nick gestures to the two items tucked under his arm.

"Fleece, it's thin so you can move easily in it but warm, so you won't freeze." He explains, tossing the thin item to me. I catch it deftly and pull it around my shoulders, attempting to chase the chill away. Then I shove my arms into the backpack straps and feel my foot step into something squishy.

I glance downward, instinctively reaching up for a knife, only to find snow under my feet. An overwhelming surge of relief dances through me and I slump forward as the adrenaline coursing through my veins starts to wear off.

"Oh thank goodness." I breathe, covering my face with my hands. Nick snorts, I peak out at him between my fingers to find him strapping the bow and quiver to his back.

"So, where to princess?" He questions, using my infuriating nickname that he knew I hated with every fiber of my being. It was the one he gave me when I was five and insisted on being called Princess Mirabella because someone told me that my name sounded like royalty. He just couldn't let that go.

I bite back a sharp response and take a quick glance around the arena. Every way I looked there were letters and an assortment of environments. But one stood out and caught my eye. If I had to survive in the Hunger Games for the second time in one lifetime, I wanted to do it in a place I felt comfortable. A forest.

"East."