Maysilee Donner's death in the 50th Hunger Games. I've tried to make it as true to the book as possible, including that the bird that finally killed her was the last of the flock. Just to try to keep it accurate. I don't own the Hunger Games, though I wish I did. Happy reading!
"Maysilee!" The name echoes through the stunningly beautiful forest. "Maysilee Donner!" Maysilee... silee... silee... the echoes mock him.
Then again, the scream. Haymitch takes off at a run, all the while yelling Maysilee's name.
Suddenly he clears the last of a tight clump of trees and staggers into a wide open clearing. In the middle of the clearing is Maysilee, a dagger in each hand, blood flowing from a myriad of cuts and gashes along her hands, arms, stomach and neck. The flock of birds is almost completely decimated; dead, bright pink bodies are strewn around her, their ugly, rose feathers streaked with scarlet blood, and not all of it is theirs. Yet still enough birds remain, and Maysilee has clearly lost too much blood. She sways as one of the birds makes a stab at her, and falls to her knees as the bird rakes a long gash up her stomach and onto her chest with its beak. Her eyes are unfocused and her arm half-limp as she blindly stabs at it with her dagger, and it hops easily out of reach. She collapses to the ground as Haymitch draws his own knife with an outraged yell and plunges into the midst of the birds. Madly he drives the dagger home again and again, but amidst the swirl of feathers, he hears a whisper.
"Haymitch..." Her voice is so soft and low he might have missed it, but he saw her lips move, and she tries again. "Haymitch..."
But then a bird's claws rake across his back and he whirls around, his knife no more than a blur, while Maysilee lies bleeding her life away on the soft grass behind him.
So it is only when he hears the almost surprised gasp that he turns away from the bird he has just killed, just in time to see the last of the pink birds drive its beak through Maysilee's neck.
With an enraged yell, he hurls his dagger, and it strikes true. The bird falls to the floor in a flurry of feathers.
He falls to his knees beside her, and scoops one arm underneath her neck and tries to lift her, to help her sit up, but she is as limp as a rag doll and collapses back to floor, unable to even lift her own his, which rolls limply on her neck. Gently, carefully, he supports her head with his hand and cardles her to him. Her eyelids flutter, and open.
"'M tired Haymitch..." she whispers, her eyes unfocused and her words slurred. "My neck hurts... Haymitch... make... make it s-stop?" Her blood flows over his hands and soaks his sleeves.
"I... I can't Maysilee" he murmurs softly, his voice catching.
"Haymitch..." Her voice is no more than a breath. "Am I dying Haymitch?"
Others would have lied. Others would have told her some pretty tale of her being well soon, but not Haymitch. Tears carving streaks down his grimy cheeks, he nods. She sighs, an out-rush of air, almost a sound of relief.
"Ah" she breathes. His hand strokes away a lock of hair.
"I'm sorry Maysilee..." he gasps, as his shoulders began to shake.
A violent convulsion suddenly wracks Maysilee's body, and she screams out in almost inhuman agony. When she finally goes limp again, her eyes are closed, and her breathing light and shallow.
"'Mitch..." Her voice is barely audible, and her eyes aren't open. He bends down to hear her, his tears falling on her face.
"I'm here Maysilee" he murmurs.
"'Mitch... Win ...for me..." She is struggling to open her eyes, but she can't find the strength.
Her final word is no more than a final rushing out of air, a final breath.
"Win..." The wind snatches the word and whisks it away, whirling it over tree tops and away.
She is still. And a boy sits alone in a clearing, holding the body of his friend, and sobs.
Hope you like it! Stars x