A/N: Hey guyss, and galsss, this is a new series of one-shots I'm going to be doing. It tells the tale of the last thoughts of dying people. My dear Primrose Everdeen is the first to go. Hope you like it. :) OH! and Happy Birthday to anyone in the month of January! :)


I'm on the front lines. I am 14 years old, and I am on the front lines. I tend to the wounded, give life back to the dying. I'm watching in sheer horror as countless Captiol children are lined up to meet their death, only pretecting what will be the cause of their death. Snow. Silver parachutes float down into the crowd of children. I watch as they snatch them up, and try to rip them open. Little did anyone know, that inside the parcel that signaled life, was already counting down. Boom. Boom. Boom. 10 parcels explode. I reach for a sweet little 6 yeard old girl, with blonde locks, and big blue eyes. Just like mine. I wrap my lemon coat around her. She looks up at me says:

"When can I go home?" I look around at the innocent children all under my age meet their death before their time. I simply say as she reaches up to catch one last parachute,

"You can't,"

Boom. The rest of the bombs go off. With the death of me, comes the death of countless innocent children.

My name is Primrose Everdeen, I am 14 years old, and I died trying.

My body is on fire. My muscles scream for relief.I take one last look at the world, trying desperately to find one last thing of beauty to take with me. I see my sister. Her braid flop as she whips around to watch my body be engulfed in the flames. I smile one last time, and I give way to the dizzying black world.

My name is Primrose Everdeen, I am 14 years old, and I died trying.


I know, I know, BITTERSWEET, I had to feature Prim first, because she was as innocent as can be. Prim didn't deserve to die. The next one will be Rue. Should I do one on Pres. Snow?