One shot about the start of Rue's experience and the end told in her own words. I hope you like it.
The trees seem brighter somehow when you're darting between them. The colours are vivid, colourful greens startling against dark brown branches. I'm hopping from tree to tree now, like an excited bird, light on my feet. It's the skill I'm proudest of.
"Rue!" I step lightly down the tree I'm in now until I'm low enough to jump off, and land perfectly on my feet. I can feel the powdery texture of the ground beneath my feet as I dart in the direction of my mother's voice.
"You're covered in dirt! You need to clean yourself up before the reaping." She scolds as I come closer. But her voice is strained. This is the day her eldest child could be thrown in at the deep end, left to fend for herself against 23 other teenagers.
The motto? 'Kill or be killed.' Cheerful, isn't it? There's two options I have- sit and be terrified until the moment of truth, or make a few small jokes where I can and try and block it out. I've decided on the latter.
It's later in the day now. I'm numb. I just want it to be over, fate called out from a little slip of paper. I'm in a huddle with a group of anxious young people from District 11. They all have their own ways of coping, though some people seemingly aren't. A girl a few feet behind me is sobbing with fear, and the names haven't even been called yet!
I'm calm and composed throughout the various speeches, but then it happens. My name is called.
I don't know what to do. As I'm asked to go up on stage, I make sure my face is a blank mask. There are so many emotions running through me now it would be impossible to show them all. I walk slowly up, wishing I could see my family in the crowd. How would they be taking this? I stand on stage, head bowed, as they ask for volunteers.
Silence. Broken only by the whimpers of my family when there are no willing teenagers to take my place.
One thought is running through my mind this whole time- my journey has begun.
"Sing." It's not a command. Or a demand. It's a request. I pray Katniss knows that as I lay here. My eyes are half open, fixed on my ally. This wasn't her fault. I hoped she knew that too.
The pain fades away as Katniss starts on a soft song, a lullaby. It reminds me of the birds, all the time I spent in the woods. All the beautiful memories I'm glad I didn't lose at death. Because I know this is death, but with Katniss by my side it doesn't feel like death any more. I saved her from the tracker jackers, and I know she would do anything to save me now, if she could. You can tell that just from her words.
I'm slipping away now. She tried to give me the mockingjay pin but I could never, ever take that away from her. It was how she'd become my ally, the person I could trust. And I secretly hoped it would bring her luck for the rest of her battle. I wanted to wish her luck, but I couldn't form the words. I was too tired, too content to think about anything else.
I think of my family. I think of the birds. I think of the brave girl with the soft beautiful voice sat next to me, then I close my eyes, and it's stopped. The singing, the sweet earthy smell of the arena.
But still, I am peaceful.