Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. All rights go to Suzanne Collins.
This is exactly 100 words.
His blue eyes pierce me right down to the soul.
Enrage.
Accusing.
Betrayal.
His fists clench and unclench around the white apron on his waist. Sweat drips slowly from his forehead. White teeth bared at me flash dangerously in the dim light.
"Get… away," he growls.
I stumble, tripping over my feet as I try to back away.
He growls and snarls as he whips his head around, trying to rid himself of the pictures the Capitol forced into his head.
Tears fall silently down my cheeks, as I look at the monster the damned, cursed Capitol so heedlessly created.
