Hey guys! Thank you to Guest! She recommended the song Garden by Hasley. I heard it and it was absoulutly awesome. Hope you like it.
My name is Iskra and I won the 63rd Hunger Games. All the tributes I killed come back to haunt me every night when I close my eyes. I pray every night that they would stop haunting me but I wonder if anyone is answering because they keep on haunting. No one cares about me anymore, my family is dead, my sister, my mom, my two older brothers, all except for my father. But he disowned me, he tourtured me, I just had to kill him. I have no one else to love or care about. I live alone in Victor's Village. I can remeber the last words he said to me before I stabbed him. No one cares about you, Iskra. Slap. Who you praying too? huh?. Slap. No one is listening to you.
Those same words haunt me every night too, but instead of my father saying them, the dead tributes say them. My dream takes place in the garden behind the house. The tributes I killed on one side, me on the other. And a blackhole in the middle. Then more start to appear out of no where. The suround me and start to slash their weapons at me. I try to fend them off but in every dream they always seem to be stronger than me. They push me to the egde of the hole and I am about to fall into it, I slip. That is when I bolt up, awake. I have to breathe several times and repeat to the same words over and over again. It isn't real, the're dead, they can't harm you, you're safe.
I get out of bed and go outside and sit by the fountin in the middle of the garden. I look at my reflection in the water. The girl staring back at me isn't the one I knew before the games. The shy, tough but little girl who couldn't hurt a fly is gone. What I see before me is a killer. A girl who killed inncoent kids. They had no right to die. It wasn't there fault they got stuck in the games. I can feel tears starting to form in my eyes. My delicate blue eyes. In a matter of seconds, tears start streaming down my fair skinned cheeks. No, this is not what the old me would do, she would face the truth. Just lke I did when I volunteered in my sister's place in the the games. I have to be strong, not a weakling. I stand up, wipe the tears from my cheeks, go back inside and get in bed. The minute I close my eyes, the dream comes back, but this time, I'm prepared.
So, what do you think? Remember, have a song you think I should write about write a rewiew and I just might write it. I've been thinking about it, I just might accept one or two happy songs, and try to write a happy story.