Why?
Who said that this was okay?
Who said that this was where I would die?
My mother is looking at the screen,
willing at me to get up.
To live.
We both know that I'm not coming back.
The pain is surreal.
It has made me so numb,
that I can see light.
The light from the sun.
The sun isn't real,
but the blood is.
Cannons.
One by one they fire off.
But where is mine?
The bloodbath has long ended,
so why isn't my life over too?
One will live.
But me,
I get to die.
Happy Hunger Games.