She slowly walked towards the microphone, in her trembling hand a piece of paper, with only one name on it. A name she couldn't bear to read.
Effie Trinket was a composed woman. She handled anything, all with a smile, however plastered-on it seemed. And yet here she was, standing, terrified, in front of the microphone, trying to read out a name she had called a thousand times over the past year, trying to send someone to a place where no one ever truly comes out alive, as she has for the past 10 years. And yet she can't.
Effie looks Katniss in the eye, mouthing the word run.
And then she throws the paper off the stage, running down the stairs and away from the crowds, the Peacemakers that chase her. A distraction, an attempt to let Katniss and Peeta run, to be safe.
But safe was no longer a word in her vocabulary. She kept running, only stopping when she reached the fence, alive and humming with electricity. Humming a sickening song.
She paused. Touch this and she dies. But isn't that what she was going to do anyway? Effie Trinket, dying to save her Victors. That's something you don't hear every day. And so she walked forward, reaching her hand out.
"Ma'am, I need you to step away." A Peacemaker.
This was why she took particular pleasure in reaching her hand out, perhaps even slower than before. Her hand reached the wires, and she fell to the ground, and there was nothing.