I tremble slightly. The light from the screen of our cheap television bathes my face. I'm eight, but I feel so old. We all are, every single child in Panem, even in the Capitol. Death is the center of our lives, rooted there by the Games. Whether we love it or hate it, we can't escape it.
The blood pulses out of my sister's body. My mother cries but I cannot. I stroke the hair of my older sister's favorite doll and hum quietly to myself. I no longer want this world. And so my mind leaves it behind. Forever.
A/N- I decided to try my hand at drabbles. I find that many people have a hard time writing them well, and I decided to find out if I was one of them. I'll probably post more drabbles as subsequent chapters, but they will be unrelated.
