The games, they never stop haunting me. Always finding ways into my dreams, torturing me, and ruthlessly reminding me of all the violence, blood, and screams I have witnessed. And here I am again, in my very own nightmares. I know I can't win again. I only won the first time by sheer luck. District 6's people aren't athletic. We spend most of our time working with machines in a factory. No physical work, just tampering with the nuts and bolts on a train. We are not strong in mind or body. That's why when District 6 actually has a victor, they end up so quickly on drugs. Morphling has more power over us than we do. It takes away all the dreams and haunting memories of the Games we've had to mentor for. But for the parents whose children are reaped, there is no relief. Most don't have enough money to buy drugs, so they slowly wither in a endless sea of sorrow. I know what it feels like to have your child die. My girl was reaped at age 12. She haunts me, her last words echoing through my broken soul. I was so helpless when she died.
Flashback:
I sit in the mentor room, watching my little girl run into the marshes for cover. She huddles in the fetal position overnight. In the morning, hunger drives her out of the safety of the tall grasses and forces her to find food. She manages to find an apple tree, but that's when I hear the snapping of a dry twig. Run! Tara, run! I scream helplessly at the screen. She just keeps picking apples. The Career from 1 finds her and I bury my face in my hands. Her piercing screams find a way into my soul, and plant themselves there, festering and eating at my heart. And then a trident comes out of nowhere and kills D1. Must have been another Career. Still on the ground, Tara looks toward the sky. She puts her hand over her heart, rolls her wrist around and sticks her open palm towards the screen. It's an old D6 gesture of love.
"I'll miss you Mama. " With that, her cannon booms and something passes over her face. I can't quite figure out what it is, but I think she found her heaven.
End flashback.
And that's when I know what to do. So I jump in front of the monkey, and spread my arms out, protecting the boy from 12. It's teeth sink into my chest, and for a moment I see my daughter in the sky reaching towards me. I did the right thing. I'm carried onto the beach, and I lay there while the 12 boy holds my hand. He speaks softly to me, telling me of all the colors in the sky. I do the only thing I can think of. What I would have done for Tara, had I been with her when she died. I subtly move my hand in the D6 gesture, then paint a flower, Tara's favorite thing, on his face. I offer up a silent prayer, asking for the safety of all these tributes. Perhaps this time we'll will. We'll beat the games. He thanks me for the image on his face, and I close my eyes, knowing what's in my heaven. Colors will be everywhere, flowers will spread across it, and my daughter will be waiting for me with her smiling face and innocent eyes. Nothing can ever touch us again. Not there, never again. I take my final breath in this life, let go of this cruel, heartless world and finally embrace my daughter again. The field around us bursts into life, flowers blooming, their sweet scents gracing the air. No more drugs, pain, sorrow, or games. Just me and Tara. Hopefully Harris, my husband, will find a happy life. Sensing my thoughts, Tara picks a dandelion and holds it up to me. "Hope never fails Mama."