A/N: Feels like drabbling. I got this idea last night for a drabble about every single final battle/moment in Hunger Games history told from the first place loser's perspective. Enjoy!

..

The Girl Who Didn't Watch Her Back

Mocking Hartnet: District 1

I perch myself on the branch, keeping constant watch. I was in the final two of the first ever Hunger Games. This horror that was forced on to me suddenly begins to lift itself. In its place lands the first bit of hope that I could get out of this.

The low chirp of a mockingbird travels into the cold air, creating a lonely sound in the night. The very bird I was named after always seems to be lonely. It is such a reflection of my own life.

Fire crashes down on what used to be such a simple, lovely District. What was once my home has turned to raging, uncontrollable flames and I powerless to stop the terror.

The peoples' hopeless screams fill in the gaps of sound, almost matching pitch with the explosions. All I want is to run, to hide, and to end this. But the fire keeps on descending. The Capitol has bested us all yet again.

"Mocking!" a voice screams over all else. I halt my footsteps, turning to see who called my name. My little sister is standing steps behind me, tears cascading down her pale cheeks.

I reverse my run, desperate to save my sister. The fire burns, leaving smoke coating my lungs, but I run on. I must reach her.

But I am one step too late.

She screams as the fire collapse on her in one fatal smash. I am forced to watch as my little sister is engorged in the flames that have killed so many others. Her small hand reaches out to me one more time before it crumbles into ashes.

The scream barely escapes my lips when I am swooped over someone's shoulder. The tears race down my own cheeks as my father with me and mother in tow makes a break for the train station.

One lone train is being forced over the limit with scared, screaming passengers. Men and women cling to small children, not daring to let go. Some scream to only let women and children on, but others want it first come first serve.

My father takes no chances with my mother and I. He desperately sprints down the tracks, looking into every car. We finally come to one empty boxcar.

My father throws me in and my mother next. But he makes no attempt to join us, but instead he runs back down the platform.

"PAPA! PAPA!" My screams fall on deaf ears. My mother crawls herself into a dark, dismal corner, screaming silently into the night. She only pities herself as I scream only for my father.

The train gives a vibrant jolt and begins to speed out of the station. I am thrown out of the door frame, back against the train car's inner wall.

"PAPA," I scream louder than I ever thought I could. But no one was around to hear my pleads and cries. Not even my mother comes to comfort me. I am here alone, watching as my District is burned into nothing, but a pile of ashes, just like my sister.

I slink down the train wall, collapsing to the floor. My head buries itself into my knees as fresh tears well up in my eyes. My whole life just went down in flames.

My eyes flicker out of my knees and find the still opened door. Smoke covers the sky like a blanket of clouds that even from here burns my eyes. Yet, no fire plagues this place. Trees dot the landscape and green is as vibrant as the orange in the flames.

A lone mockingbird flies into our car, tweeting its depressing song. My lips circle and faintly, but very faintly, match its funeral tune.

Another bird follows our music into our car, matching our pitches. It was not mockingbird. It was a jabberjay, the notorious Capitol mutt. Such as small, quite beautiful bird, but it can carry so much evil.

The jabberjay perches itself next to my mockingbird, whistling cheerfully along with us. The mockingbird inches closer to the guest, looking at it whistling her tune.

In the strangest way, the whole ordeal comforts me. Maybe even after the fire takes away everything, hope withstands it all and brings love back into the world.

The mockingbird still continues the low tune, carrying it along. I am tempted to whistle along with the little bird, but it might draw unwanted attention. If I am to win, I have to remain subtle and cool.

I hold on to the branch when my legs begin to grow tired. Waiting was a boring and dreary thing to do. But I have no other choice. The boy from 4 was much larger and much more powerful than me. I would take one simple jerk of his arm to break my neck. I would just have to let the Capitol bring us together.

"You should really learn to watch your back."

The arrow pierces through my neck quickly. My last breath gets choked up with my blood. I don't bother removing my arrow. The branch that steadies me loses my grip, sending me plummeting to the ground, helpless to hold myself up.

The mockingbird is making a noise again. Only this time it is not low and sweet. It is high and chirpy. Almost like a laugh, a scornful laugh.

They are not called mockingbirds for nothing.

A/N: Tell me what you think. I already have the second chapter ready, so if you like this I will post it later.
-Emma