A golden fireball hurtled toward me. I kept running, dodging to the side. A tribute ran beside me. I didn't care who it was. There were five of us left.

BOOM! A cannon rang out in the distance. Four, as of now.

My legs were sore, my heart aching. I was tired of this. Tired of running, tired of the gory images etched into my mind.
Who am I? Those words ring through my mind every day.

My name is Iridescent Evermore, but people call me Shadow.
I am thirteen years old.
I am from District Twelve.
I am in the 49th Hunger Games.

I stumbled over a rock, and fell. A boy crouched over me, sadistically grinning, unsheathing his knife.

Ring around the rosy.
The boy is on me now, pinning me down. He carves a broken heart around my left eye. Blood trickles from my wounds, blinding me. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. Crimson seeps into my consciousness as he carves another broken heart around my right eye. I close my eyes. Still red.
BOOM! I hear a cannon in the distance, but I know it's not mine.

Pocket full of posies.
The boy let his knife slide down towards my chest, leaning lazily down to my breasts. He jabs the knife into my breast, and red stains my green shirt. Ha. It looks like Christmas, except that doesn't exist anymore. He twists the knife around, but I still can't scream. He pulls it out, and I can barely breathe. Only short, ragged breaths come out.

Who am I?

The boy cackles, whispering cruel words in my ear. He jabs the knife into my side. My body spasms. He rips open my shirt, grabbing at my breasts. I try to fight him, but I have no energy. I try to scream, NO! DON'T! but nothing comes out of my mouth.
Suddenly, the girl from District Eight jumps out of the bushes and pounces on the boy, stabbing him multiple times in the back. His cannon booms. I shove him off me, silently thanking the girl. I still can't speak.

Ashes, ashes.

A fireball whizzes past us, singing our hair, followed by two more. The girl manages to dodge the second one, but can't move fast enough for the third. I watch in horror, crouching on the ground, as the girl screams in pain as her skin bubbles and burns. The previous fireballs have landed near the third one, starting a small brush fire. The girl's hair and clothes have already been turned into ashes, while her body is mangled and burnt. You can barely tell who it is. I clutch my injuries tightly, my eyes wide open, even as the blood seeps down into my eyes, partially blinding me.

We all fall down.

The girl's cannon rings out over the vast arena.
"Congratulations to the victor of the 49th Hunger Games, Iridescent Evermore of District Twelve!" I am declared winner, but I don't care. I should have died in the arena along with all the other tributes. I crumple to the ground, limp. Then everything fades into black.

Ring around the rosy,
Pocket full of posies,
Ashes, ashes,
We all fall down.