Yell- Cato

I never imagined that dying would be difficult. Truthfully, I never even imagined death itself. I was so confident in my abilities that dying in these games never crossed my thoughts. Yet still, here I am, reduced to a sniveling baby all because of a skinny girl and the Capitol's muttations. And now, thoughts of living are slipping with every tear the wolf-creatures make in my flesh. Instead, a thousand easier deaths pop into my head as I wish for them with everything I have. But nothing happens. Only groans, then whimpers, escape my lips. The night wears on and on, but no salvation comes. I try to close the one eye I have left, but I can't find the energy. I have long stopped making any sounds. When will it end? When will I be free? The day finally dawns, but all it means to me is more broken dreams, more hurt family members, more pain. Is it hours or seconds until I see a figure in the distance raise its weapon? I can't tell, and I am far past caring. Death is finally here, what I dreaded; now welcome is impending. I could leave the world like the pathetic coward I am, and forever be remembered as such. But the world is amassed with trickery, so I try to remain brave. The warrior inside of me mutters one final yell, and then the world turns black.