Author's Note: First Hunger Games fic. First fic since summer. I missed you guys.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Everyone in Panem knows about the rock that Thresh smashed at Clove's head.
Everyone is aware that Thresh had played a big part in Clove's death.
I was too late, too late to stop the tribute from Eleven from hitting her. I was too late. But she was still breathing when I had reached her.
I said her name about a million times and she didn't respond. I told her to hold on, that I would get the sponsors to get her a remedy. Everything was a blur. She wasn't answering. There was no smirk, no threats, no Clove. Though she was breathing, she was as good as gone.
Her body is left, small and fragile. It's almost as if the rise and fall of her chest – her breathing – is taking away wisps of the Clove I know and mixing it with the air I breathe. The whole arena seems to swirl and I pound my fist on the ground to steady myself.
A cannon fires and it doesn't even take a second for me to know that my fellow tribute is dead. I open my eyes and all I see is red. In my hands, on Clove's clothing.
I force my right hand open, and my knife, smeared with blood, falls to the ground.
Everyone knows about Thresh and Clove. But they don't know that I killed her.
I killed Clove.