Sing

I reached out my hand, and she clutched it like a starving man would food.

"You blew up the food?" I whisper.

I need to know. That my death will not be in vain.

"Every last bit," she says.

Good.

"You have to win," I say, looking into her dark grey eyes.

Grey like the violent storms back home.

Home.

My family.

My sisters.

Who I will never see again.

"I'm going to. Going to win for both of us now."

Good. Win, win for both of us.

A cannon sounds, but I barely hear it.

My body is numb.

I can hardly feel the spear in my stomach.

The blood slowly leaking out.

"Don't go." I murmur.

I don't want to die alone.

"Course not. Staying right here," she says.

She pulls my head into her lap and runs her slim olive fingers through my hair, brushing it back.

"Sing," I whisper.

If I am to die, then at least let me die listening to music.

I have always loved it.

My first memory was of warm hands holding me to a chest.

Thin fingers caressing my cheek.

A soft, beautiful voice humming quietly.

And softly, she begins to sing.

A song about peace and a meadow far, far away.

When I die, is that where I will go?

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes

And when again they open, the sun will rise.

Her voice is quiet and hoarse. But to my ear, the music is welcoming.

The melody slow and soft, light and comforting.

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.

I close my eyes. Taking in one last glance of the sky.

And I think of home.

The home which I will never see again.

I feel at peace.

You have to win.

For both of us.

For the hundreds of children who have died over the years.

Give their deaths another purpose other than because Panem wanted control and bloodshed.

Let their suffering be the fuel of the fire.

Let their angry souls finally be at peace.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away

A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray

Forget your woes and let your troubles lay

And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.

You will rise among the flames, Katniss Everdeen of District 12.

You are the mocking-jay.

You have to win.

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.

Avenge me.

Avenge all of us.

All the millions of innocents who died.

Rise, Katniss.

And I let the music guide me.

Far, far away to the meadow.