A/N: Hey guys, little Rue is next, because they were as inncoent as can be, and they didn't deserve to die. My name is Rue, and I died with flowers in my hair, and a spear in my body.
If you don't already see the pattern, the last thing they will each see will be Katniss, in excpetion to maybe Finnick.
I'm in the Hunger Games. I am 12 years old and I am in the Hunger Games. But I guess, not for much longer. In District 11, I used to signal the end of the work day for the farmers with my four note melody and the mockingjays spreading it around the orchard. I'm entangled in netting, and I'm calling desperately for my ally. Her. I can see her, hear her now. She's calling back to me, despite the boy that will bring my death peering around the tree. I catch sight of her, and I have enought time before the pain comes to see her sigh of relief turn into a gasp of horror. And that's when the spear enters my body. The pain is horrible, a burning in my stomach as my insides explode and my body starts to slowly, torturously, fail.
"Sing?" I manage to choke out.
Maybe the last word Panem will hear from me. She takes a deep breath, looks toward the boy who she directly killed. She sheds a single tear, and she sings. She sings of a beautiful meadow where I can lay with daisies gaurding me, and where I can dream. My eyes take a glimpse at her who is now clutching my hand like she could give life back to me. Like she could miracuosly take the spear away at throw it away, somewhere it could never be seen. But she can't. I decide the sight of her smoky gray eyes clouded by tears, and her broken angelic voice echoing will be the last thing I hear from this world. I close my eyes, and slowly take my hand away from the spear. I give myself one more content sigh as she finishes the song, and I let myself slip away to the Meadow where my dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true.
My name is Rue, and I died with flowers in my hair and a spear in my body.
Sad little Rue and Prim died before their time. Screw the Capitol. :(