My Own Way Out

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
FoxFace is down to the final four in the Hunger Games, much to her surprise. She gets to thinking while she Watches Peeta picking the NightLock barrie's. She can't win the games. So She'll take her own way out.
I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters in it. I'm just a crazy fan with to much time.
Enjoy!

Submitted: May 15, 2012

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Submitted: May 15, 2012

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 I watch the boy, Peeta I think Katniss called him. I wait for him to leave, or for his attention to be diverted so I can run away. I'm trapped here in this bush, hoping that he doesn't turn and see me, crouched here. I could take out my knife and kill him, but I'd rather not, I've killed no one and I certainly don't want him to be my first. Peeta is so much stronger and bigger then I am, I'd stand no chance against him, and even if I did manage to get lucky -he does have a cut on his leg and its obvious hes still not fully recovered- it wouldn't be fast enough, Katniss would hear him screaming and by the time I finished him she'd be here with her bow and arrows and excellent shooting skills. I'd be dead.
  So I wait. Peeta sits on the ground, picking at the plants and putting them on top of his backpack.
  It takes what seems like forever for Peeta to pick all of the roots Katniss showed him to pick. Then he looks around for something else, I consider darting away while he looks around. I'm fast. I might be able to make it away before he can catch me, but I rule it out. Just stay here until he's gone. Then you can run. Don't risk it. I think.
  But I'm so nervous, this close to the competition, I don't like it. I avoid all the other tributes like the plague, that's the only way I'm going to survive. The only way I'll make it out of here. I won't kill anyone, I just won't. I don't want to kill people. So my plan is to out last the others. But that's looking increasingly unlikely. I can feed my self, but so can Katniss and Peeta. And the Gamemakers probably won't allow it anyway, they'll drive us together eventually.
  There's also Cato to contend with, but he hasn't been looking to good as of late. He's hungry, since he doesn't know how to feed him self. So if Katniss and Peeta would just die somehow, I'd stand a better chance as long as I stay away from Cato.
  Peeta finds a bush of barrie's, taking out a piece of plastic from the backpack, starts throwing the barrie's onto it.
  The barrie's look just like blueberries, but when I examine them a little more, its easy to tell the difference. Well easy for someone who's been finding food from the earth for a long time. These barrie's are slightly brighter then blueberries. And their more oval shape as well. These are Nightlock. These are poisonous.
  I hope that Peeta eats one. He would die in seconds. It would be one less competitor. One less person to worry about killing or being killed by. Eat one. Eat one! I urge silently.
  But he doesn't, he just keeps throwing them onto the plastic. He starts moving farther into the forest, obviously finding more as he keeps coming back with handfuls and dumping them with the others.
  Maybe I could run now. Maybe this is my one good chance at getting away, Peeta's farther away, if I'm super quiet he might not notice. But if he does -I think again- I'm dead.
  I have a mental tug of war with my instincts and my desire. My instincts screaming to run, but wanting to stay hidden so I don't get caught.
  Which one to follow?
  But if I did leave, it might be even more dangerous. I might run straight into Cato with his sword. There's a chance he's near by, hunting Peeta and Katniss. He wants them dead surly. Maybe it would be safer to stay here, to stay hidden.
  But here is so close to danger.
  But Cato is also dangerous.
  I might die either way.
  And it dawns on me for the thousandth time in this arena, for the thousandth time since my name - Juniper Ivy- was called in the reaping. I can't win this.
  The competition is so much stronger and better then me. I might be smarter, maybe, possibly, but that doesn't mean anything. I can't kill, I'm not strong enough or big enough or tough enough to even try. I can't hide forever. And I can't live forever.
  I'm not even sure I want to make it out. I've seen so many things that will haunt me, I can tell already. And its not like I had such a great life that I want to return to. I was the middle child of five others. I was ignored by almost all of my brothers and sisters, even my parents. I would have starved if I hadn't learned how to feed my self from a very young age. And when I wasn't ignored I was beaten. That's how I learned to avoid people the way I can. Even if I did make it back, sure I wouldn't be hungry anymore, maybe my family would like me because then I'd be a victor and special, but is that what I want? I don't want my family to like me all of the sudden just because I can give them food and make them famous. I don't really want to be rich, its not important to me. Why should I want to go home?
  I can't win. So why try?
  I should stop trying.
  I will stop trying.
  In fact, maybe I should show myself, pretend I'm a threat, that will get me killed pretty quickly. But that is sure to hurt. An arrow entering my body won't be painless, it will take a few minutes to die from loss of blood.
  I could wait to die, stop eating and drinking and eventually I'll just waste away. But that would also be painful. and hard, I know I would eat or drink at some point, it would be instinctual.
  My eyes lock on the barrie's.
  My earlier thoughts ring in my head, "if he eats one he'll die in seconds"
  Maybe that's my way out. One barry is all it would take. It's painless and quick.
  I sit in the bush for a while longer, considering if this is really what I want to do. I don't want to do something drastic in a moment of stupidity and self doubt. I really think it over.
  My decision is made though, so when Peeta leaves to collect more barrie's, I run forward, without rustling a single leaf. I crouch beside the plastic, take a few barrie's in my hand. A thought is forming in my head, the Capitol. This has to look like I didn't mean to kill my self. They would be furious if they knew I did it on perpus, if my life or death was in my own control. They would take it out on my family of course, and even though I don't exactly love my family, I don't want them to be tormented by the Capitol. So I quickly reach in the backpack, grab some cheese -to look like I was just hungry and thought the barrie's were safe- and run back to the bush.
  I pause for a second to see if Peeta heard me. Then I sprint away.
  I pretend that I'm going to keep these barrie's, pretend that I think I'll be around for a while. I put a few in the pouch of my backpack, keep a few in my hand. I run as if I'm afraid of being pursued.
  My ego is starting to fade. Maybe this isn't the best idea, maybe I do have a chance, maybe I shouldn't do it.
  I have to talk my self back up. I have to convince my self all over again that this is what I want, I want control of my life, and this is the little bit I can control now, my death in my own hands.
  Its on that train of thought that I lift the barrie's to my mouth, still jogging, but slower now, turning to a walk.
  With one glance at the fake world of the arena around me, I chew on the barrie's, slowly, making sure their tart juice spills over my tongue.
  And with one last goodbye to my life, I swallow.


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