Hello ma chérie! I wrote this tonight and I hope you don't hate it. Pretty please with a cherry on top review and tell me what you think. I love you always!
Yours,
Pigeon
When she pulled the knife across my throat I never expected to open my eyes again. Of course, things never go quiet as I expect them too. I didn't expect to die at the hands of a District twelve. Quite frankly, I didn't expect to die at all. And if I died I thought it would be more honorable then it was. Or at the very least more climactic. The least the squeamish District twelve could've done was actually fight me.
Of course, had she I'd have killed her in seconds. But I would've given her a better death then she'd given me. The knife across my throat was cold, and the blood that poured out of my throat almost soothing. I was particularly confused when I heard a cannon go off; I tried to open my mouth to call out to the game makers that I was still alive. Of course nothing came out but a small trickle of blood.
Twelve stood there gawking, I wanted to stab her. I tried but nothing happened. Finally she turned and ran off. Mama and Papa would be disappointed I didn't win, but the only one who I guessed would cry for me was Lana. She was weak; but I would excuse this. If only because of her young age.
Numbly I feel myself being pulled through the air that is suddenly much thicker then I'd remembered. My surroundings are becoming dark, finally I close my eyes. Needless to say when I opened them again I was surprised.
The darkness held my un-beating heart in the palm of its cold hand. I see something moving in the darkness, only because it's cloaked in a shadow of its own. It nears me quickly and I reach for my sword, which isn't there. I'm not there either if I'm going to be exact. Not really, or that's not what it felt like. It felt like I was nothing but air. Could it be my soul that was sitting in this darkness? Never.
I feel it hesitate ad try again to speak, this time successfully. This also surprises me, but I pretend it doesn't. "Show yourself." My voice is weak, I'm almost immediately embarrassed.
Something cold touches me, and I feel as though I've turned to ice. The darkness looms inches from me, close enough to touch. "Stella Bason, District One?" It asks, I know the instant it speaks who it is. I nod mutely; I had no desire to speak to Death. His voice chilled me more than his touch, every nightmare that has ever baned a living soul has a whisper of death in it. I know because this is not the first time I have heard his voice.
Though the darkness still surrounds us I suddenly see him. He looks almost exactly as I thought he might. Hair as dark as the blackness of the deepest abyss, his skin as white as bones, which speaking of had nearly no flesh on them. I looked into the eyes of Death and see something I do not and have never expected. Sympathy. Remorse. Pity. Compassion. Love. Could such things exist in Death?
"I don't believe in Haven." I whisper suddenly. He laughs, a cold crisp, painful sound. Somehow I enjoy it.
"Neither do I." His smile fades slightly, but not entirely. His lips are red as blood. I note this as they press gently against mine, my final thought lingers after me.
Perhaps dying isn't so very bad.
hope that wasn't to awful. Again PLEASE review and tell me what you thought, I would really love that! I love you always.
Yours,
Pigeon