My grandfather told me to stay outside. He says it's for my protection, that the food and supplies would be coming to us children first. That's not his real reasoning though. I'm the president's grandchild; I could get all the supplies I want while inside his warm mansion. He wants me outside so that I can set an example for the other children. I'm here to gather the other children of the capitol outside of the mansion so that he is protected. The rebels' wouldn't hurt innocent children to get to him, we are his final defense.
I think he is also mocking the rebels. The whole rebellion started with children, or more specifically "tributes", and now he is saying that it will end with children. He's making it so that I will be standing here, among the other children, when the war ends.
Some of the children around me are pointing up at the sky. Drifting towards us are about 100 silver parachutes. I catch one and stare at it in wonder. Suddenly, I hear a volley of explosions all around me. My own parachute vibrates in my hand and then bursts in a fiery wave of heat and destruction.
I am soon aware of an enormous pain on my right side. I'm on the ground now and when I turn my head I see a gaping hole where my arm used to be. Blood gushes out of the hole and I know I'm losing it too fast.
So this is how it's going to end. We, the Capitol, have killed 1,726 District children through the Hunger Games. The Rebels must only see it fair to kill about 100 Capitol children to get to the President. It's only a small fraction of what we owe them.
I then feel cold , soft hands touching my shoulder where my arm used to be. I look up and see a rebel medic working on my shoulder, skillfully wrapping it in an attempt to save my life. Then I realize that the medic is familiar, I have seen her before. She's been in countless interviews while her sister was in the games. Now she's here, trying to save me.
A rebel helping a capitol citizen. The sister of the mockingjay helping the granddaughter of President Snow.
"Thank you" I mutter, overcoming my pain to say those two words to her.
I understand now that over all these years the Capitol has been killing innocent people, innocent children no older than me, and now the rebels were falling to their level. This girl in front of me is sick of the fighting and the killing and the paranoia. She realizes that we are all just children, no matter where we come from, and she'll do anything to prevent the death of more children.
I vaguely hear someone calling her name. Another parachute, which lies by my leg, vibrates for a moment, for the last moment, before is once again explodes.
