Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or anything related to it.
The door slams behind me and I feel it; that feeling you get at the back of your throat when you know that you will never see her again, the girl who only a number of hours ago you were intent on running away with, the one you would start a family with, if she would let you. And she never even knew.
I feel my jaw clench as the Peacekeeper leads me through the cruel twisting corridors of the Justice Building, out into the coal filled air of District 12. As the suffocating feeling that has nothing to do with the coal crushes it's way down my throat and into my chest, the lack of oxygen causing my head to scream, a haze spreads across my vision, distorting the once familiar sight of my district and stinging my eyes with the pain of a hundred tracker jackers.
And then I can't bare it a moment longer. I need to run, to scream, to hurl the full force of my body at something, someone! I despise the Capitol and their sick Games! How they watch cozily as they tear innocent people away from those who love them! As they pit them against each other in a fight to the death for their own entertainment and force us to watch as a reminder to those of us who suffer in the districts that we will always suffer! I want to tear it all down, the stage, the screens. To strangle every one of the Peacekeepers swarming about this district, for them to suffocate as I am now. But no, that would be too kind.
I want to run into the woods, our woods, mine and hers; maybe there I could breath, no, I couldn't, not there, not now, not with her gone and the raw pain searing into my flesh. And today there are so many Peacekeepers, placed here specially for the Reaping, I'd never get past the fence without being caught. Fuck it! Let them catch me! Punish me, kill me! Nothing they could do would even come near the brutal agony they are putting me through right now! Death would be a relief; at least I would be with her again soon.
But the words resound somewhere in the furthest part of my mind, those last words I will ever hear pass her lips, "don't let them starve", and I know that death is not an option. Not for me. They are all relying on me now, both our families. And at that moment, I hate them, everyone; for taking away my life, my death, my Catnip.