The dark haired girl draws her arm back, taking the string of her bow with her. And suddenly, it's like I'm back in the control room watching, and the Capitol as slowed the picture to make it look more dramatic.
No.
His sister and I made a promise. He would be the one getting one of that arena, not the dark haired girl or the blonde boy. Even if they meant something to the Districts, something that could give all of Panem the freedom we deserve. My daughter could live the rest of her life in peace, free of the reaping and sick life of being a Victor. I make my decision even before the girl lets the arrow fly.
I fly across the sand towards him, throwing myself in front of his body, even as he starts to push me away, but I know even before I start to move that I'm simply too late. The arrow sails over the top of my head, slightly brushing my hair, and there's a sickening crack as it reachs the target it was always meant for.
An massive force slams into my shoulder and I'm thrown back, landing in the sand besides him, and thought the pain on my shoulder could kill me at any second, my first thought is that he's not moving.
He's not breathing. This can't be happening. I made a promise to myself, in the night of the interviews, that He would be the one getting out of the arena alive. The Victor of Victors. I can't let him die. I won't let the Snow win. He already killed enough people I love.
I feel her trying to get me up, drag me out of this fight, but I know it's of no use. Still, we manage to get out of the Cornucopia before all hell breaks loose.
I colapse into the sand, still holding his dagger on my left hand. With the last of my strenght, I take his hand in mine and then I hear them, the cannons.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
How weird. I didn't saw anyone else dying.
My last thought is that one of them can't be for me because I'm still alive.
I open my eyes to nothing but endless white.
My first thought is that I'm not really awake at all, that I really did die in the arena and I just thought I was lucky enought to survive. Maybe the stories back home in District 4 were right.
Maybe when I sent a quiet, sailor's prayer like the man in my mother's stories sent on the wings of the grey gulls, the gods thought that I was worthy enough to die in that arena.
I don't really think that flashing eyed Athena heard my murmured prayer, or Ares, the brozen god of warrior and blood would give me strenght to get up and kill the girl that murdered my love. But in our darkest moments, we cling to the small pricks of light that give us strenght and makes us want to fight back.
I force my body to stand up, and abruptly everything hurts. The sheet that covered my body falls back, and I realize I'm naked under it.
My instict is telling me to pull it back up, but before I can, I see the scar on my shoulder. It's still slightly red and darker than the one I have on my chest from the first games.
I stare down at the harsh red line across my tanned skin as everything comes back to me. The Quell. The Arena. The Jungle. The Beach. Gloss, Cashmere, Brutus and Enobaria. Mason's axe. It all happened, so why am I still alive? Why am i still alive when they aren't?
The pain that consumes my entire body finally reachs my mind. Everdeen's arrow flying over my head, throwing myself in front of Gloss but I wan't fast enough. Gloss is dead. The other half of me is somewhere I can't follow.
I stumble out of the bed, even thought everything hurts.
Suddenly, I know where I am. Of course. There's only one place in Panem that could have something to heal me so quickly.
"YOU! ," I scream at the top of my lungs, ignoring the pain, knowing that they are surely watching me.
"I HATE YOU CAPITOL! WHY AM I ALIVE?! HE'S DEAD!"
"I HATE YOU SNOW!,"
"Liar...I hate...love...you...Gloss"
The footsteps are the last thing I hear before I feel a sharp pain at the back of my neck and I know only one thing before I fall into the darkness.
Gloss Floyd is dead. I've never felt so empty in my whole life.
The next time I wake up, I'm sitting in a chair rather than a bed. They've dressed me in some paper tunic, which me feel worse than if I was naked. Sitting in front of me is President Snow. Of course.
"I would like to have a word with you, Miss de Margaux, now that you're awake."
Seeing Snow's face like that, his snake-like staring right at me, made me realize something. I want to kill him. I want to make him suffer before he dies and make sure no one knows his body when I'm done with him.
"We're not going to hurt you, my dear Miss de Margaux. Surely you most realize how much trouble we've taken to safe your life?"
My voice sounds dry and suddenly I'm not shaking anymore. "Why didn't you all just left me to die in the arena? I wish it all my heart you had."
"It has been decided that you're more useful to the Capitol alive rather than dead, what about you start by telling me where Katniss Everdeen and the others are hiding while they plan the rebellion?" He taunts.
"I don't know anything, " My voice is suprisly calm. "If there was anything rebellion between us, you would have know when you brought us Victors, here to the Quarter Quell. I don't see how an president like you couldn't know what's going on in the Districts."
"Indeed," A Peacekeeper comes out of nowhere. "Let's see if Miss de Margaux still says the same after we're done with her."
The last thing I hear as I black out is Snow telling the Peacekeeper to take me to room 4.
They keep me in the same cell, for it feels like a lifetime. For all I know, it could have been only a matter of days since I talked to Snow. Every minute of the day is fulled with dread and fear, with Darius' death, Johanna's screams as they torture her with water and bowling wires, where we can see, Peeta's screams for Katniss as they inject the tracker jacker venom into his viens.
They show me images of Gloss and Enobaria's death over and over again, and I know the injections the Peacekeepers give me contain tracker jacker venom because I've never seen horrors as the ones I see when I close my eyes.
My name is Bianca de Margaux. I'm twenty-eight years old. My home is District 4. I was in the 63rd Hunger Games and I survived. Gloss and Enobaria are dead. The other half of me and my sister in anything but blood are gone. Why am I still alive? I should be dead. The Capitol destroyed me and the ones I love.
A/N: Written for FireBird128's contest. Slightly AU.