A/N: Okay, I promised a new story this week, I never said that it wouldn't be sad! I felt like there are so, so many alternate endings to the first Hunger Games book, and I (painfully) explored this one. Don't flame me too bad, please. But tell me what you think!
The ground is still freshly packed and the gravestone is still untouched and clean of dirt.
I almost stop and turn back.
But I can't.
I finally approach with soft, quiet footsteps, careful not to wake him somehow.
I wish that I could go back in time, take back everything that went wrong, fix him somehow.
But I can't.
I kneel just beside the gray stone that reads his name in freshly carved letters, but I can't look at it yet.
The fresh dandelions in my fist are now almost broken off of their stems, I'm clutching the bundle so hard. So I set it down.
I take deep breaths but they don't help in the slightest.
My mind won't let me forget.
The muttations leaping after us.
Pulling each other up onto the Cornucopia.
The mutt grabbing at his leg with its sharp fangs.
Me trying to pull him up.
Cato suddenly climbing up with us.
Cato trapping him by the neck.
My arrow.
Misses.
My arrow.
My arrow.
My arrow misses and they both fall.
I force myself to look at the tombstone.
PEETA MELLARK
74TH MALE TRIBUTE FOR DISTRICT 12
I take off running, away from it, away from the nightmare, away from my boy with the bread.
But I can't.
A/N: Reviews are always welcome!