I had killed fifteen already… and that was to be expected. I was a Career. A very popular one, too, because I kept getting those little parachute things... I forget what they're called. Anyways, one was some flint, another was some beef stew, some apples, etc. etc. I was a brute. I was one of the last two tributes. I was going to be famous.
And I was bored out of my skull.
I had just finished some tomato soup, and now I had nothing to do.
I knocked my head against the tree of which I was laying at the base.
I sat up. Was that weirdly worded? Hmmm.
Look at me. I snorted. I was worrying about my English.
I sat back. I really needed someone to kill. These Games were boring. Very different than I thought they would be. I thought they'd be hard. Like, I'd actually break a sweat hard.
But they weren't.
Closing my eyes, I listened to the noises around me.
I must have drifted off, because the next thing I know, the other tribute is standing over me with a knife in his hand, aimed at my neck. He brought it down.
Oh, shit.
I wasn't the victor.