Survivor

by MelafieldKitty

This is the story of Caida, or Foxface, as she was referred to in the books.I have always been fascinated by this character and want to explore what could have happened that made her who she is.I have tried to make this story new and interesting.

The instant the bitter juice hits the back of my throat, I know there is something wrong.

And I'm too late to fix it.

I've always been a problem solver, working out solutions easily just by looking over the situation and knowing that I'm a survivor.

So what can I do now? Even in the Hunger Games, I've been a survivor. All my life, I've been a survivor.

I could spit it back out now, there might still be time. But I feel the berry juice trickling down my dry throat, and I know that I need to accept the thing that, until this moment, I have never had to.

I am not going to survive this.

I have always survived, even while I was watching my world fall down around me, while my friends and family were dropping dead every minute, and the remaining people, including me, were left with terrible conditions. While I had been surviving so long in the Hunger Games, I somehow convinced myself that I was going to be the one that lived through everything, that the deaths all around me were there to make an impact on me, for me to change who I was so that I could finish my story successful, having made some difference in the world.

I was too optimistic.

I swallow hard, pushing the berries down and erasing all doubt from my own mind that I will not be dead within the next minute.

The juice hits my stomach, and instantly clears my mind. And as I watch the fog close over my eyes, my hands falling limp by my sides as I leave this body behind, I know that now, in the last few seconds of my life, I am finally seeing the truth, and suddenly, everything is clear.

No, I didn't die successful.

But maybe I have a reason to be optimistic.

Out of everyone I have ever seen, known or heard of, maybe my story is the only one that ends happily.