I can almost hear them cheering for me.

I tear through the pile of bags stacked in front the Cornucopia and find her. Her face is contorted by horror. Fear consumes her soul. I smile. I still can't believe she made it this far into the Games.

"Nowhere to run, District Ten," I tease, with a shard of solid ice in my hand. What I thought would be a makeshift tool early on in the Games became my greatest weapon. You see, there were only backpacks filled with clothes and food available at the Cornucopia, nothing truly useful.

She cowers and tries to hide her frail body behind a large backpack. Is she serious? I laugh. This is going to be easy.

As I get closer, she pleads for her life. How pathetic. I try to shove the backpack to the side, but she holds on to it tightly. I try to lift it, but her body follows. Finally, I manage to wrestle the bag from her, and she sprawls on the ground, wide-eyed. I grab the back of her head and raise her to my eye level. She floats at least a foot above the ground. Her hands try to remove the grip that I have on her hair, but she fails.

In one rapid movement, I force the shard of ice through one of her jugular veins. Her body instantly goes limp, her head bows, but her eyes remain wide open. I retract the ice shard, and am sad to see the tip of it, missing. It must have broken off inside of her. I let go of her body and it falls with a loud thud on the metallic floor.

I wish I could see replays of that kill.

One tribute left.

I leave the inside of the Cornucopia and immediately sense that something is wrong. Sure, the finale is happening now; I could see the snow quickly melting before my eyes. However, that's not what's bothering me. The idea barely crosses my mind when she, another she, collapses on top of me.

"Not today!" I yell as I begin to stand. Her arms are wrapped around my neck, but she's choosing not to choke me. I believe it's because she plans on killing me from behind. How can she though? I know for a fact that she has no weapon. There are none around. I could even see my makeshift one melting below me.

I slam my back against the mouth of the Cornucopia and she screams in pain. It must have hit her spine. I repeat the movement, hoping she lets go. She doesn't. Instead, her fist heavily meets my temple, not once, but five times.

One more hit against the mouth of the Cornucopia, and we both fall to the ground. It's all muddy now. I try to get up, but it's slippery. I've never been so disoriented. As I glance behind me, I receive a boot to my nose. My torso twists upwards. Wow. What I see is beautiful.

I can't move, because the sky is beautiful.

I feel her teeth bury themselves in my throat and rip out a big chunk. Is that the real sky I see? How is it so beautiful?

I can't see it, but I know she spat out the piece of my throat because she's now yelling, the way I wanted to when I planned on winning.

At least she's from District Two, like me.

Me... Me? Me.

Who am I?

I have no clue, but I do know is that the sky is beautiful.