Me and Cato. The victors of the 74th annual Hunger Games. We could do it, the boy from District 2, and me, the girl from one. We curl up together beside the fire and he holds me close. We drift into dreams as the glaring fire dies down. Us careers, killing everyone in sight. That's what I was born to do and that's what I will do.
I jolt awake. A cacophony of screaming, crying and shouting pierce my ear drums. Tracker Jackers. We are all dead. A Tracker Jacker is a genetically made wasp, their venom cause severe hallucinations and in some cases, death. Then I feel it. They thrust their stingers into me repeatedly. I scream and lunge away. A sensation of buzzing rings in my ears. Suddenly Cato, Clove and Marvel scramble to their feet and run, leaving me, Glimmer, behind. Their wails fade to silent, leaving mine bellowing solo.
"Cato! Cato! Help me!" I scream into the darkness of dawn. My sight fails. My body goes limp. I can feel the rock like lumps form where the Tracker Jackers stung me. I gasp for air, my last breaths are painful. I know death has got hold of me and is not letting go.
I no longer shine. I no longer sparkle. I no longer Glimmer...