Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. I don't own the song, "Titanium" (by David Guetta ft. Sia) either. I am not pretending to be anyone. I'm just a random girl who suddenly felt the urge to write a Hunger Games fanfic.
Author's Note: Hey there! So, here's my very first attempt at HG fanfiction. If you haven't realized already, it's a songfic to David Guetta song, "Titanium". Katniss's thoughts are a bit OOC, because this isn't meant to be strictly canon.
Hopefully this story isn't ridiculously horrible. I like to think that it gets better towards the end.
I would love it if you could review and give me feedback!
Titanium
I had nothing more to live for. My father, my friend, my daddy had died. We received a worthless, mocking medal, reminding us of our littleness, our nothingness, and our inability to change anything.
Times changed. I quickly came to terms with our horrible situation a few weeks after the tragedy. We had no more support from the government. We had no money, no food. But, somehow, I had to take care of Prim: she was all I had left.
Prim was my reason to live. She was the innocent, sweet girl that everyone had taken a liking to, and I wasn't about to let everyone blame me for her death. I had now someone to live for, yet I had nothing to live with.
"Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!" Caesar Flickerman exclaims over the booming microphone as he throws my hand up with his. The Capitol audience applauds and shouts loudly, enthusiastically, some wobbling up from their exquisitely cushioned seats onto their impossibly high shoes to cheer me on. Their multi-colored hair and make-up look artificial, too bright to be real.
Too bright to be real.
This isn't real.
I can't be going into the Hunger Games, I can't be expected to stand a chance, and I can't come back to District Twelve.
This can't be real.
But, this is real.
I am going into the Hunger Games.
I am the girl on fire. I can do anything. I can win.
I can keep Prim alive.
As the District 2 girl's knife hitches into my backpack, I'm growing more and more apprehensive. Sure, I've just narrowly escaped death and even received a knife, but can I go through this and win it? If I win, I live. If I don't, I die.
I've got to try harder than I ever have.
I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away
As we hear Cato's anguished screams and pleas, I can't help thinking that this is just wrong. I've known that for a long time, but I've always accepted it.
But now, even after being hardened by the sight of all the killing here in the arena, this still feels wrong. Maybe even more so.
Lies. Deceit. Death. Berries. Love. Is this what it all comes down to?
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away
I'm back with Peeta in District Twelve. We are both alive. I don't know if I love him. I don't know if he loves me. I don't know if we're fully healed or not. I don't know if we've even started to recover.
President Snow hates me. That's all that I do know.
And now I'm back in the arena. The Quarter Quell, they call it.
I'll bet that the card was not originally there; I'll bet that it was placed there purposely as the perfect solution to getting rid of all of us.
It doesn't matter. We'll all still die anyway.
You shoot me down
Tributes. Clockwork. Mutts. Hovercrafts. Peeta.
They left Peeta behind. They left him behind. They should've just killed me.
But no, I'm stuck here, still alive.
But I won't fall
I am the mockingjay. I am the rebellion. I am hope.
I am titanium
They've killed Prim. They've killed her.
Who would've known that the Capitol could drop so low into killing innocent children?
But now, we have Snow. We have taken control over the Capitol. We have won.
But Prim's dead.
It had to be Snow. Only he could be so cruel.
I find my arrow pointing determinedly at Snow. But then, I find that it tilts ever-so-slightly, so that it's pointed straight at Coin. Because only then do I realize.
I'm almost too late.
Prim's dead.
Because of Coin.
It was Coin.
My fingers deliberately, skillfully, smoothly unclench the bowstring.
Coin's dead.
Snow laughs, a disgusting, sickly sound. Or maybe he's choking.
Chaos ensues.
And then, he's dead.
Snow's dead.
I must die. I struggle to bite off the nightlock pill.
Hopefully they weren't lying when they said it would be painless.
You shoot me down
I taste blood. I have bitten Peeta's hand. I didn't know if I loved him.
But I won't fall
In the end, how could someone be so traitorous? I'm pretty sure I hate him.
He knows I cannot take anymore. Does he know if he loves me?
Does he love me?
I am brought away and kept in a room. A room that makes me want to scream. A room that makes me want to curl up into a ball and forget the world. A room that I must stay in for ever and ever and ever…
Until the door finally opens. And, there stands all my former "allies", telling me about how we have won once again, and how I will not be executed. They say all this joyfully, as if they expect me to be happy about staying alive.
I get back to District Twelve.
I wait, forlorn and distanced, for the world to stop spinning. I wait for a few days, forcing myself to eat meals. Forcing myself to wait. To wait for him to answer the question that has been itching in the back of my mind. And only then can I die.
He comes.
He comes, a few days later, with the grace of a knight in shining armor, ready to rescue an undiscovered princess from the enemy. He comes with the grace of a warrior, ready to defend his true love no matter what.
I tell myself I don't want to be rescued.
I tell myself I don't want to be defended.
But I run up to him, despite all the things I tell myself.
Before I die, I must know one thing.
I'm caught up in his embrace, and, before I can say anything, he looks me straight in the eye.
"Don't do that again."
He looks sad for a moment as he says that, but then smiles gently at me.
And I smile back.
And I know the answer to the question that has been itching in the back of my mind.
And maybe I don't want to die anymore.
I am Katniss Everdeen. I am alive.
I am titanium.