It hurts. It hurts. It hurts and I'm running, running for my life, trying to keep moving so I don't die. If I stop, I shall die. A momentary rest could be fatal.
If I keep travelling, maybe I'll reach water. There was water around here, right? I think there was, but I couldn't be sure right now. If I reach water, and I get in it, then maybe they'll leave me alone. They don't want to drown, just like I don't want to be stung to death.
I'm racing as fast as I can, trying to keep my distance from the wasps. What's their name? Tracking jackets? Something like that. I don't even know any more.
It's hardly like I exactly care either, is it? A name doesn't detract from the agony I'm in.
The pain as I run is awful, I feel as though I am dying. I think I am dying. I can't run any longer, as much as I want to, and I fall to the ground, losing all useless hope that I had until this point. Let them sting me to death, I'd have died from the venom already inside of my bloodstream regardless.
I lie here, on the forest floor, with the wounds getting bigger. And bigger. And it's disgusting. It feels like someone is pinching me. Maybe they are. Would that really be a bad thing? It's a moment's distraction from the injuries I've managed to gain. The ones which mean I am dying.
Mother always told me to never give up hope, to always try to see the light at the end of the tunnel. But in death, it seems, there isn't a tunnel to see through. Just a load of people pinching me. At least, it feels like people.
It must be humans, since a finger begins to poke me in my right eye, and another not long after to my left, pushing them inside of my skull, blinding me. It's like a nightmare. But it isn't a nightmare. It's so real.
I scream, "Make it stop! Make it stop!" But they just jab harder. I wonder why I must be tortured so, why I can't be dead already. I go to reach for my knife, to end it, but I can't remember which pocket I put it in, and I can't see without any eyes.
It may be too late for me, but maybe my allies still stand a chance. Clove and Cato and Glimmer and Marvel. Maybe they're all okay, and it's just me.
I very much doubt it. The girl who did this to me, she wanted to kill us all. She wouldn't have gone to all of that effort just to get rid of me.
Sure enough, I hear a muffled cannon. One of the others, it must be. District 1, I presume. Clove and Cato are bright enough to find safety, but Glimmer and Marvel? Maybe not.
All of this is unbearable. I didn't volunteer for this, not a single person warned me of the consequences of being a tribute. Enter and win, that's what I was taught.
But it really isn't that simple.
I can feel my body getting lighter and I feel almost weightless. I can see again and I am weightless. A cannon sounds and I know it's for me. I can't go home again, nobody can save me now.