I wrap my pack over my shoulder, and to hide the black pack from anyone in my pursuit, I wrap my jacket on top of it, before ripping off toward a barren patch of land.
My feet pelt the patchy grass, and soon, I see a bird hopping across the grass. As I stalk closer, I realize its a groosling.
The bird makes me think of District 12. Our neighbor in the Seam, Bryan, was a chicken farmer. He was great at it, he had a special formula as to how many eggs to let hatch, and how many eggs to eat, and how many eggs to keep for his family. Occasionally, he would butcher a chicken and trade it to us for something meager like a squirrel or rabbit.
But in the Seam, you'd do anything for a squirrel's tail.
I wonder why he never said goodbye to me. He was like a second father to me. Like an uncle. When my father was in the mines, he would hunt with me. I would shoot down the animals while he would pluck plants. He was knowledgeable about herbs, whether the plants were for eating or medicinal purposes, he was always willing to teach me a lesson about them.
My arrow skewers the bird's neck, and without Jasmyne, I realize my mood noticeably becoming more so somber. My moods have been swinging so much- last night I couldn't have been more joyful, then the worry about Jasmyne leaving, and now the melancholy of being lonely- I couldn't ache for company, for home, any more.
I think back to Bryan. I suddenly long for the feeling of his brawny arms wrapped around me, his hands stroking my hair. I long for the happy times spent with his daughters, Etta and Fox, baking bread with our tesserae supply of grain, popping corn over the fire. His wife, Clover, teaching me how to braid my hair. I let my eyes water with tears, and continue walking north.
After walking for a bit, I sing Jasmyne's melody. Not too loud, but loud enough for the mockingjays to hear. They repeat my song, and the area falls silent.
I hold my breath, waiting for Jasmyne's response, and thankfully it comes. Its far away, but I can hear it clearly. I smile, and look up. A tracker jacker nest. And this one is far more active than the one Jasmyne and I evaded. A solo tracker jacker zips toward me, and stings my arm. I sharply inhale, and dash away. I hear the swarm buzzing angrily, and I dare to turn my head.
A large group of the insects are sharp on my tail, and one lands on my cheek. I let myself screech, before diving into a deep pond in front of me. I glide down toward the bottom, holding my breath. The cool water soothes my stings, and I need to rise up to the surface after a little while to breathe.
The tracker jackers, thankfully, have left, except for one floating on the surface. I sink back down, and once the lone tracker jacker flies away, and rise to the top of the water.
The leaves of the trees fall right off of their branches, drowning in the water. I run out of the water, and rainbows sprout out of the ground. I'm drowning in bubbles. I hear Jasmyne's call, but my lips are seemingly glued together, and I'm busy swatting away the bubbles that appear from thin air, sticking to my arms, my legs, my face, my scalp... every part of my body is surrounded with the purple bubbles that transition to a blue.
Have the hallucinations begun already? Jasmyne repeats her melody, clearly waiting for my response. But still, I can't bring myself to call back.
I collapse on the ground, in a pile of wet leaves. The bubbles fade away, but a rainbow covers me, like a natural hiding place.
Snakes slither toward me, rising up and showing their fangs, but disperse into a million crumbs. It isn't long until I black out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm awakened what I assume to be a few hours later, as night has set in. I rub my stings, and yank out the sharp stingers. I look around.
No bubbles.
No rainbows.
No snakes.
And all the trees still have leaves.
I'm slightly dizzy, but that goes away after gulping down some water. I know Jasmyne must be at the edge of her seat, terrified. She must surely know that I'm not dead, for as far as I know, there's been no cannons. I sing our three note melody, and the mockingjays call it back.
I eat two groosling wings, and finish the last of our berries. I sway, and have to lay back down on my leaf pile, only to find the pile bone dry. The tracker jacker sting effects are more horrible than I expected. I crawl toward the pond, trembling, and terribly nauseous.
I use an arrow, and shakily try to skewer a fish. I do so successfully for a trout and a bass, before keeling over, feeling like passing out. Or vomiting. Or both.
The pain of my arm and cheek is nearly unbearable. I pluck a few leaves which I vaguely identify one as Scottlynn and my mother would use for healing tracker jacker stings. I chew them up, and try to remember what I'm supposed to do to treat my stings. I spit out the chewed up greenery, and lather it on my arm, before repeating the process with my cheek.
Its blissfully soothing, and I crumple onto the pile of leaves. I miss my sleeping bag, but cover myself with the leaves, and its a believable disguise. Before covering my head for rest, I call out the melody to Jasmyne. The mockingjays sing it, and I silently wait for her response.181Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZV5wG8YQge
I coat my hair in the leaves, and after a few minutes, Jasmyne calls back. I smile, and fall into a deep sleep.
When I wake the next morning, it isn't how I would hope to be awakened. Its a scream from Jasmyne.
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