Broken Glass
She looked at me square in the eye. It was probably pandemonium in the capitol. People placing last minute bets on me and the girl I was trying to kill. We were the final two tributes of the 65th Hunger Games, after all. The Cornucopia lay directly behind me. I still remember the first day, rising up into the tree covered arena. Why hasn't she killed me yet? We're out in the open, nothings stopping her from stabbing me with her puny knife. I was tired of her little game. I didn't know what she was playing. I just wanted to go home. So I lifted my trident and hurled it at the young girl's chest. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the victor of the 65th Hunger Games, Finnick Odair!"