The hunger games!
So this is set after 1 and before 2!
I don't own the characters but ideas are mine so don't copy!
Ps not all representations may be accurate as this is my interpretation!
Love to get some feedback on this, what you think etc! And... if people think its good i will post part two very soon! So..lets hope you enjoy!
Gale still hasn't forgiven me. How can he? How can he ever begin to understand?
I watched as children were tortured by death and knew I could do nothing; I listened as children screamed out in trembling agony, and knew I could only try not to hear; I killed innocent children, who had as much reason to live as I did, and knew I could not allow myself to feel. And worse still I defied the capital; I mean, out of all these things how that is the worst I do not know? How is politics, rebellion, the most terrible defilation of life? Is it because I'm despised by President Snow? (Not that I care). No, it's because now the capital has its eye fixed on me, and Peeta, and they will do anything to destroy both of us and our families, if they see fit. And it is my fault entirely; I have endangered at least five more lives, and all because, selfishly, I wanted to stay alive. I never wanted anything to do with the horrendous cruelty annually imposed on us by the capital. Never. But, by some sick and twisted fate, I ended up on the podium like the twenty four other candidates. And to this day the whites of their scared, possessed eyes still stare at me in the darkness that envelopes me. I wanted nothing to do with it- the futile slaughter of blameless children. But instead I became just another pawn in their immense, inescapable, interminable Hunger Games. And for what? What is the reason for this suffering? To teach the districts a painful lesson? A lesson about a war we can hardly remember? Just stories passed from generation to generation, and with each passing Games, the hatred grows and so do the stories; twisted and distorted to teach the poverty stricken to hate, the abundant to be grateful. It is not fair. It is not right. And I did nothing, except try to survive. And for that I am meant to be a hero? Or, more likely, a villain? I did nothing. I despise what I did. I am disgusting. No one can begin to comprehend me or how I am feeling.
My thoughts begin to take over, as memory after searing memory comes back to haunt me. I pull myself out of my recollections just as I see Peeta's disfigured body lying in the greying mud; the image is forever etched in my mind; before I have the time to ask the one question I already know the answer to:
"Is this all my fault?"
For once the forest's silence cannot ease the guilt burning inside me. I walk around aimlessly, though I should be hunting. Of course I don't have to any more, but I do, it's the only thing that keeps me sane now: shooting and killing. It seemed so vital before- now I feel nothing, just an empty loneliness where my heart once was. I pass through grove after grove, winding through the tan and crimson sludge, following the worn path made by years of tracking. I rest silently against the smooth soft bark of a giant oak, dusted with sour jade moss. Wordlessly I look down, and, out of the corner of my eye I see a single purple bloom. I don't bother to try to stop it. It's too late; the memory is already forcing its way into my mind. The tiny, beautiful, happy Rue, who could make the birds sing; who could make the birds stop and listen. She was no older than Prim, Prim who I had so willingly taken the place of; my dear, darling, little sister-who would not have survived, and I still don't think I have, not really. Yet no one offered to replace Rue, and so the birds will never again whisper the sweet melody of her voice, no longer will they stop and listen.
Crack.
I hear a twig snap, it barely makes a sound yet I sense it almost before it happens. I spin round, bow stretched, ready to shoot whatever demon lurks behind me, in the shadows. A true hunter again.
"Katniss?" Murmurs a voice, deafening me as it echoed through my apprehensive, bloody thoughts. Thoughts that have not left my mind since I first entered the games, let alone the painful images that burnt, that still burn my mind, even as the voice continues, "I need to talk to you".