His smiled curved in a cruel manner, speaking to me in that same sly, yet supposedly charming tone. That malicious grin gives the impression that he really believes a rebellion isn't at his doorstep. I grimace, narrowing my eyes at him.
If it was a fight against you and me, one on one, you'd be sprawled on the ground right now, blood dripping from that much too confident mouth.
I bet none of those bastardly excuses for leaders ever thought how strong the Hunger Games makes us…how the lifestyles they chose for their inferiors give us strength.
Do their brainless, rainbow plastered civilians train their entire lives, with weapons as deadly as the Games themselves?
Can they feel their pulse quicken as their arrows send deathblows to their only source of food?
Would they ever launch wickedly carved knives straight to their adversaries' hearts?
The answer is an definite no. No, they will never be the fighters we are. We will always be the unspoken deadly ones, and they will push themselves further into a softer, easier lifestyle, while we become more of an opponent.
A guard barks, "Execution justification: Resistance to divulge whereabouts of Katniss Everdeen. Do you admit to such actions? "
I clear my face of emotion. "Yes." It almost sounds comical, because as many times as I said before, I don't. I don't know where she is. I can only hope she will get as far as she can from the Capitol.
"As her fiancée," Snow slurs, dripping with sarcasm, "I would suggest you would have told us by now, and I could ensure her death less slow. It doesn't matter anymore, though. I have two other Victors to interrogate, who's tongues will surely loosen, unlike yours."
I simply stare him down. Bore my eyes in an incomparable fury at this man, who I will never allow to gain anything of me. I position my head as close at it can get to him, and the cold wire wreathing my neck pushes into my skin.
I fathom where the charismatic, insightful boy I once was has gone. But then I remember the circumstances, and resume my cold stare.
"Permission to commence execution?" the guard asks the President. He gives a curt nod.
I'm lifted up from the ground by the cold wire, which grips onto my neck even more tightly. My legs dangle, almost four feet from the ground.
"Goodbye, Peeta Mellark."
Before the world disappears, a girl immersed in flames, eyes stormier than clouds, blinks at me.
"Katniss." I choke out.
