Gone

The girl is crying again, it's like she doesn't even realise she's doing it anymore. So what if her sister's gone now? It's not like she's the only one who's lost someone to the games, my dad lost his brother when he was younger and it's likely he'll lose one of us soon enough. There's no point crying over someone who's gone, there isn't anything to be done but carry on. That's what they would have done if your places had been switched. Say goodbye while you can, and man up when they go. They're gone, you can't change that.

Over

It's over now, it's done. Goodbye childhood, goodbye fear, goodbye Hunger Games. You turned nineteen yesterday and you're free, sort of. You don't have to be entered into the reaping anymore, but you can't take tesserae for your family either. Your brothers and sisters will have to be entered more times to feed themselves. They might get chosen and you would have to watch them die because there's no way in hell that they'd survive. What if you had children? They would be entered, they might be chosen and then you'd have to watch them die too. It's never over.

Out

"And District 5 is out of the game! That's it folks, both tributes knocked out at the cornucopia. Goodbye District 5! Hope you have better luck next year!"

Two children have just died. They have just been murdered in cold blood and people are cheering for it. People will forget the names of these children by tomorrow. People will laugh at how quickly this girl and this boy were "knocked out of the running." Think on that for a moment. No one will remember these children in twenty years, but would anyone remember you either? Does anyone even care anymore?

Death

It's quick, almost easy. The nightlock slips between your lips and you break the delicate skin between your teeth. It won't be long now, thirty seconds at most until it's over. You start to count, twenty-nine. You remain sitting and start stroking the long grasses around you; you breathe deeply and feel a pain in your heart. Twenty seconds left. Your vision starts to blur and it feels like a better idea to lie down now. The grass is soft around your head; your fingers begin to twitch. Twelve. You take another breath. Five. You shut your eyes, two…one.

Below

When you die, your spirit goes to the sea, that's what she's been told. All the tributes lost and all the others too, they get to spend eternity below the waves. Sometimes she wishes she could go there, just for an afternoon. She wishes she could ask them if it hurts to breathe underwater, or if it doesn't really matter because they're dead anyway. When she goes swimming, she always tries to keep her eyes open in case she sees someone who was lost, even when the salt makes her eyes sting and go red. She just wants to see.

Years

He's dying on screen in front of millions of people for entertainment. It isn't quick; he's bleeding out and desperately trying to plug his wound with his hands, his clothes, anything. It isn't fast but it'll be over soon enough for him. For everyone else however, this death will last for years, there'll be action replays, there'll be slow motion versions, sped up versions, there'll be ones set to sad music, set to happy music. People will recreate the scene at home with red sauce for blood; children will play it out in the playgrounds. That's just how it works.

Everyone

You never think it'll be you, but it always comes for you. Everyone has to say goodbye eventually. It could be a friend, or a cousin, or a brother or sister, it could be your son or daughter crying for help that will never come. The Hunger Games will get you, it doesn't matter who you are or where you come from, they will find you and they will make you suffer. It doesn't matter if you're a career, or if you've been trained or if you think you're ready. You aren't, nobody is ever ready. The games get everyone.

A/N: I'm not really back, I just don't want to do homework :P I hope you enjoyed it :)