Summary
Roya Chiveski has always lived a quiet, undisturbed life with her father and three older brothers. They don't gain much, they don't lose much - they aren't the wealthiest of folk, nor are they the poorest. Comfortable with where they are, the only thing that haunts their thoughts is the annual reaping for The Hunger Games. Of course, isn't that everyone's worst nightmare? It turns into one as Roya's name is drawn from the glass ball, and suddenly her life is dangled before her eyes as she must fight to survive the most deadly, cruelest man-slaughter ever to be known to man-kind.
Preface
I can feel the liquid scarlet pouring out from the gaping wound poised above my breast, a chilling sweep of ice drips through the fibers of my body as I lay unmoving on the damp forest floor. My tongue glides over my cracked lips, an iron, bitter taste erodes my mouth. It takes a moment to realize I've coated my lips with my own blood instead of saliva. Either way, it has temporarily ceased the burning sensation. It only reminds me though of how much I miss the silky feel of my lips feeling healthy; but these are the consequences I pay.
I don't hear much, nor do I see much. My sight is blurry and my mind heavy, and I think that maybe I hear a steady river somewhere nearby. Then again, I'm dying - I'm hallucinating hope. With each excruciating second that passes, I can feel each ounce of my soul leaving my body, simply floating invisibly into the air, above the carcass of treetops shadowing out light, and maybe if I'm lucky, somewhere far, far away from the arena. My fingers twitch against the mossy ground, more mud collecting beneath my ragged, bleeding fingernails. It stings for a minute, and I wince like the coward that I am. There's camera's trained on me, I feel them without even having to look. The entire population of Panem is probably huddled around their television set, just waiting for the tragic announcement of the silence of my heart. So, I'm going to make my death memorable. As unforgettable as possible; but I don't have strength to even figure out how when suddenly I'm pulled into a lonely darkness, my name being whispered into the breeze.
