Hey guys… I absolutely HATEHATEHATEHATE ending it this way but I started high school and it's a school that assigns a LOT of homework….I'm talking five hours a night. But that isn't important-over the breaks, I may rewrite the ending and make it different…but I can't do anything now. So just read this and hang on until the long weekends and breaks!

Anyways review if you want- but please don't tell me you hate me. I really want to make you guys happy but if you aren't then tell me what I can do to fix it. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE tell me if you like this "twist." Please.

All characters belong to Suzanne Collins. Go Mockingjay! Yay

CHAPTER 6

KATNISS POV

The screens flicker on. We see Prim and Crist standing on a small metal circle, both pairs of knees knocking from the nerves. A voice blares from the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the 3rd Quarter Quell- the 75th Hunger Games!"

Green. Everywhere there is green. The golden Cornucopia is already beginning to lose to the rapidly growing vines surrounding the small opening in the forest. Prim and Crist struggle to catch a glimpse of the other tributes but with no luck. The thick forest seems to make it impossible to see someone standing a yard in front of you. The camera pans to show the audience a wide view of an endless swamp.

"Let the Games begin!"

The seconds tick by, with Crist flitting his eyes from tree to tree, determined to find the Cornucopia. He finally spots it, a gold and green structure overflowing with food and weapons. I hope there is something to clear branches and weeds with, because it looks impossible to travel through the arena without tripping every other step.

The gong rings out, loud and clear. Prim seems confused, only standing on her metal plate. Crist is determined to reach the gold horn, but has some difficulty pulling his boots out of the wet ground. At least their suits provide some camouflage. The tributes are wearing dark green full body jumpsuits, perfect for sneak attacks. The black boots don't look easy to walk around in, as if they were purposely made to get stuck and slow down the user.

Prim has started to move, but away from the Cornucopia. She must be looking for Crist by the way she's moving her head, but she's going in the wrong direction. She might be able to find some edible plants, but I haven't seen any animals suitable for food on the screen. At least she's leaving the other tributes. The tribute pool made up of mostly experienced killers. My fears quickly turn into panic, and I want to hold Peeta's hand. I need support. I need Prim to be safe.

She keeps tripping, sometimes falling on her face. She gets covered in dirt quickly, and Crist isn't looking too good either. He however has already gotten as many supplies as he can carry and is heading in the same direction as Prim. He's got a set of knives attached to a belt he has already strapped around his waist, a first-aid kit, water bottles also dangling from the belt, a long spear in his left hand, a bow and arrow slung over his shoulder and something that looks like a folded-up bright orange tent. These seem to be good supplies, but he'll need to open the first-aid kit soon because he's got a long red cut on his cheek bone. This help has come at a price.

I look at Prim's screen and find her stopped dead in her tracks. She seems to have heard something that's forcing her to make no noise at all. I see a rustle in the thick leaves, and see a shiny black boot step out, followed by a long, sharp spear poking out in front of it. She sees it a second after I do and tries to bolt, but doesn't get far. She screams as she's running.

I'm terrified for Prim, but I can't do anything about it. She screams. I try to jump up and ball up my fists, but the straps and my wrists and waist hold me down to the bed. I let out a shriek too, not because of the restraints but because I might be watching my sister die. I turn my head to see if Peeta is as scared as I am, and see him trying to rip off his own straps. An Avox flies into the room, banging the screens and effectively turn them off. A cold liquid flows through a tube and into a vein in my right arm. I am left with the sharp, bitter smell of the white room, the tightness of my restraints and the knowledge that Prim is most likely dead as I quickly fall into sleep.