Hey all!! This is the result of an english project, but i thought i'd put it up here for kicks. Be sure to Review and tell me what you think!!
Summary: Peeta has just gone off to make sure another tribute is dead. While the readers are led to believe that he finishes the girl off himself; what really happened in the girls final moments? (Note: the italics are lines from the book)
A Silent Vow
"We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and lets move on!"
"Go on, then, Lover Boy" says the boy from District 2. "see for yourself."
As I head to the area the Fire-Starter girl was in, I can't help but wonder what Katniss would do if she saw me now. She'd probably react violently after the initial shock; I've learned that that about her. My eye stings as I blink and my leg throbs with every step; the Blood Bath at the Cornucopia really did a number on me. I don't think I'd be able to get up if she did that. The whole reason I joined up with these Career Tributes is to protect her. When I told Haymitch of my feelings for Katniss, he reminded me; "it's kill her or be killed by her, kid. And if you don't, someone else might. Either way, one or neither of you will walk out of the Games alive." I knew this and I already had my answer: I can never kill the girl I've loved for so long. By joining up with these blood thirsty tributes, I've made it so that if we come across her, I can try to defend her. Or she can kill me without feeling guilty afterwards. After all, the Career Tributes are hated by all save their own Districts. Allying with them is to be hated worse.
When I reach the tribute, I can't help but stare for a moment. Cato ran her straight through; blood is pooling around her, and her ragged breathes are shallow and wet. She will last only seconds longer.
I've seen death in the Hunger Games all my life. Hypothermia, starvation, dehidration, and straight forward killing; it's not new to me anyone in Panem. But being so close, being actually here; it sends a rush nausea through me. I can only just barely keep my stomach down, though I'm sure I've turned more then slightly green. That's ok, I'm beaten to hell anyways, the audience won't figure the color change is from more then bruising. The girl's hand suddenly twitches drastically, and she's making this loud gurgling noise. Her times up. She's dying as more blood oozes out of her mouth.
Anger replaces the sickness in me. This girl is probably no more then 14 years old, yet here she dies for the pure enjoyment of those Capitol pigs. All she wanted was warmth, and was killed by a brute who then celebrated her death because of it. It's not fair! What did we do to deserve this? None of us were there when the war was fought, none of us have defied the Capitol (small black market trades aside; people have to live somehow), and none of us have a choice in any of this! And yet what can I do? If I openly defy the Capitol here, they can kill me with the push of a button. So what then? Live and make it out of here? That will just continue the cycle. And to speak badly of the Capitol would just put me in the same position as the Avox*girl Katniss knows. Or the boy who the hovercraft killed. There is absolutely nothing I can do about any of this. I'm powerless. Except for the Capitol, everyone is powerless.
I swivel around sharply, I can't stand to be here anymore. Can't stand the girl's dieing attempt to breathe. To live for just a moment longer. Though it's kill or be killed here, I find that my hands are shaking at the thought of doing that to another person. Another kid, just like me. I don't allow myself to think of that happening to Katniss; I can't bare it. I can't live without her. I feel something in me tighten, and realize I've clenched my jaw. Katniss is strong, and has a better chance of surviving the Games then I do, hands down. She is not weak enough to be killed like that Fire-Started girl. I know if it comes down to it, I can kill to survive. But how far will I let myself be pushed before the instinct of survival kicks in? I don't have any reason to go back home alone. I realize that the tightness within me is my resolve as I make a silent vow: I will not kill anyone, unless they directly threaten mine or Katniss' life. I will die before I let her be killed, and fight for her.
My fists clench, and I no longer feel the pain in my body. Instead I feel the hum of adrenaline through my every nerve ending. As I approach where my "comrades" are, I feel my spine straighten as I solidify the last of my oath. I will do any and everything I can to make sure Katniss Everdeen is the victor of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games.
"Was she dead?" asks the boy from District 2.
"No. but she is now," says Peeta. Just then, the cannon fires. "Ready to move on?"