A/N: I had to look up the 5 stages of grief for this one.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.
13. Sorrow
First, you think it can't be true. It just can't. They're lying to you – it's someone else's name, it's a trick, a practical joke that isn't funny. None of this is happening. You're still in bed. You never got up. This is all a bad dream – except it isn't.
Second, you want to yell. Nothing would give you greater satisfaction than screaming at every single person in this square, especially that idiot escort in the tweed suit and grinning mask. Just to punch him, once – well, maybe a bit more than once – oh, it would feel so good. After all, it's his fault that you're doomed.
Third, you wonder what you've done wrong. Why you, of all people? You didn't even take out any tesserae. It must have been that boy you told off last week, except that wasn't your fault! He deserved it! But now you wish with all your heart you hadn't done it, that you'd let him touch you, because that would be better than this.
Fourth, you want to let everyone know how much you're going to miss them. That you're sorry for anything you've ever done to hurt them. Will they forget you? They tell you no. You say thanks, exchange hugs, and watch them leave.
Fifth, you realize that you're going to die. It's not a big, heart-stopping moment, but more of a relaxing of your muscles as you accept the fact. It's not as if you can fight it. So you walk passively to the train, get on board, and go through all the training with nothing more than a grimace, wondering what everyone back home thinks of your absurdly low training score.
Then it's all over, and as you feel the last dying beats of your heart, you finally feel the sorrow. Why it took you so long, you've got no idea, but you feel it now. And that's the last emotion you experience.