Grief

I run in frantically, panting and half crazed, but when I arrive, there is nothing to do but stop. I am too late. The spear already impales her fragile chest. Whirling around, my arrow is in District One's neck before he can even pull out the spear. Rue's wide eyes water, but she never cries. Those eyes are hauntingly like Prim's: deep, fraught with emotion, and now, slowly fading away. I want, more than anything, to just look away; I want to run far away from this tiny clearing. Rue is going to die, but I refuse to let her die alone. I realize she is asking me about our plan, the Career's food. I force myself to look at her, to push the words out of my clenched lips. It's all gone. I will win for both of us. She whispers, asking me to sing, so I do, a lullaby that I sing to Prim when she is sick. The song speaks the truth. She is going somewhere better than this, but I love her here. When she finally dies, a wave of emotions hits me. I am angry, lost, and confused. But what hits me the hardest is something deeper than the rest, something I haven't felt since my father died. Grief. As I bury Rue in flowers, it is digging into me, making me listless, careless, and insane all at once. Somehow, I know I will never stop grieving.