Me: Could you do it for me? Please?
Prim: Of course.
Me: Thank you
Prim: TheGirlOnFire7 does not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.
I promise that I'm not ignoring my other story. I just really wanted to write this. Yes, I know it's short. But the part of Mockingjay that I'm writing this about is like 1 or 2 paragraphs long. It's like less than 2 minutes in the book. So there's only so much I can write. Hope you like it anyway.
I hear screaming. So much screaming. Their voices too high to be adults. I hang onto my medical kit, knuckles white. With my other hand, I tuck a loose strand of blond hair behind my ear. The Peacekeepers frantically move away the barricades, heading toward the children. We follow them, a swarm of white uniforms.
There is blood everywhere. But I can't be weak now; there are so many children that need my help. I rush to one screaming child and cover him with my coat. There is blood covering him, but I'm unsure how much of it is his.
"You're going to be fine." I murmur, trying to comfort him. He looks younger than me. Much younger. He barely acknowledges my words, only looking up at me with panicked eyes. My heart goes out to him, along with every other child there. I hate what Coin and Plutarch and all of them had planned. Killing all these children is horrible. It is horrible and unnecessary. We were supposed to be rebelling against the Capitol and saving lives. Instead we were destroying them.
Unfortunate casualties, that's what Coin had called all these children. Their deaths were supposed to be for the greater good. So that we would win the war. But looking at all these children, I saw no greater good. I saw innocent children paying for an earlier generation's problem.
The child below me is still wailing. I begin to look for his injuries, but I think I hear my name. I pause.
"Prim!" Someone calls. I look around and see Katniss, my sister, running toward me. There is blood on her face. And as I look harder, I see tear tracks running down her face. She looks frightened.
"Katniss!" I yell. But she doesn't hear me. Before I can call her name again, the remaining parachutes explode. There is a moment of horrible pain, and then the world goes dark. The pain is gone. The children are gone. I am gone.
No, I don't know why I keep doing rather depressing stories. But I am going to do a happier one, I promise. If I don't I will personally reprimand myself. Anyway, please review. It doesn't take long