Glimmer's Death

I awake to a burning sensation.. stinging almost...

My eyes fly open. We are being attacked. Ambushed. But.. by what?

"Tracker Jackers!" Clove shrieks, fleeing over to wake a sleeping Cato. They get up to run, run to the lake, run to safety. Not caring about Marvel, and certainly not me.

"Glimmer! Come on! We have to go!" Marvel shouts, getting up. I am practically paralyzed in fear. I can't move. Marvel shouts for me a few more times, then gives up and starts sprinting away.

I wince in pain as the mutts sting me. I can't even count how many I have. Six? Eleven?

That's it. I have to get up. I have to leave. I can't die like this.

I have to die fighting.

I struggle to get out of my sleeping bag. The Tracker Jackers are everywhere, all focused on one single target: me.

I'm up now, eyes swollen shut from stings. The little I can see is horrid. The world is bleeding. The trees are oozing green. The grass is turning into more Tracker Jackers, all stiinging me. The hallucinations must be setting in...

I try to stumble along, trying not to give in, try to get to safety. I have to get out of here.

Cato. Call Cato. He will come and save you, right?

Yes. I can see them in the distance!

"Cato! Cato!" I scream, as loud as I can, probably busting my lungs, as if I'm not already close to death.

Cato doesn't even look back.

He never loved me. He used me.

I sigh, and stumble along. The hallucinations are driving me crazy. Who am I kidding? I can never get out. I have to just accept it.

Glimmer, District One's female tribute in the 74th Hunger Games, did not bring honor. She will die today.

I lay myself down and let myself get stung, stung to death.

I can't even hear my cannon over the buzz.

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