Drip. Drip.
I am lying in a cave. A dark, unforgiving cave. This is where i will more than likely die. I am only 12. No one has ever one the games at 12. I cant be any different. I am a young child from an outer district. I am thin, weak, and my only skill is my healing abilities. I will die here.
My only company, my own torturous heart.A heart that is out of hope and fight, a heart that's grip is tight and icy. I will probably die painfully from a career.
That or from my own pain.
My death will amuse the capitol and the inner districts, women will weep, never cry, men will laugh, never mourn, children will study my death, never fearful. I will be nothing more than another face to them, another dead tribute. Another looser. Another broken heart the world forgot. Another lost child. Another failure. Nothing more. My family will be forgotten about as soon as the victor comes out. Probably another career. Like always.
I am lost. I am going to die in this unforgiving cave.
Drip. Drip.