Ever since I read Catching Fire, I've loved Cashmere, so I wanted to do this little one-shot about her, because she's ignored most of the time. :-)

As Gloss kills that crazy woman from District Three, I feel a pang of sadness.

We both promised to never kill an innocent person ever again.

Katniss Everdeen, whom I admired, for standing up to the Capitol buries an arrow into his right temple.

I look up and am about to jump into the water when I feel sharp pain.

So...much...blood.

I gasp and stumble around until I fall on the sand.

I plead them to just finish me off.

It's all my nightmares come true. I cough out blood and nearly throw up at the sight of it.

I can only hope they kill the person who made us monsters.

President Snow.

The name of my tongue feels disgusting. I think of what he made me do before entering the arena.

I can't see. The black holes are all my vision is now.

All that training.

The day I volunteered flashes through my mind.

I run up to the stage and scream, "I volunteer!" I know that they'll let me, because I'm beautiful.

"What's your name?" The perky escort had asked.

I had responded in a voice that sounded flirty and confident, "Cashmere Nolis." Then I had turned and smiled. Straight at the cameras.

I was sixteen and I had been training since I was seven. I knew I was ready and I had to be the Victor before Gloss.

I had to be first. For once in my life. Instead of him being Father's favorite, Mother's little servant boy.

As I look in the crowd, I spot Gloss. He looks angrier than the time I cut his hair when he was sleeping. I might've been four, and he was five.

Apparently, he wanted to wait until he was seventeen.

The ripe age, he called it. So, I took it from him.

I knew he wouldn't go in when I was also in the arena.

He forgot about that hair thing. I never did. The one day I stood up to him.

When I see my parents, they're crying and smiling. They look proud. So very proud.

I glare at them, willing them to pull it together for the cameras.

Later, in the Justice Building, Gloss put aside his anger and made me swear something to him.

To never choke.

I will regret that day for the rest of my life. My eyes roll into the back of my head.

I'll vaguely aware of someone pushing me into the water, of pushing my hair out of my eyes.

I like that gesture. Must've been Peeta. He's the softest.

I manage to open one of my eyes and the last thing I ever see is Peeta Mellark's face creased in worry? Why would he be worried about me?

Then the blood is entering my throat and I-

I-c-ca-can't breathe...

The last thought that ever clouded my mind was No one. Not even President Snow is in charge of me now. So I beg of Peeta to please kill him. Slowly. And painfully.

Red.

Black.

And...a white rose. I try to push that image out of my mind.

He doesn't own you anymore, you belong to no one. But the rose is proof enough. After all, I killed. He wanted me too. I did what he wanted. He...owns..me...

Then something happened that made everything go light again. But in the distance I heard a cannon boom. I was dead.

I guess that I choked.

Stupid, I know, but it's how I imagine Cashmere. She was just so fun to write about. Imagining her messed-up life.