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A/n: Argh, no time for anything! Please enjoy for it may be a while before the next.
26) Madge Undersee – Coffin
I would like to say I died with my family in a heroic manner – holding hands, tearfully telling them I love them. But no. That's the sort of thing which happens to other families. I died alone, in my room.
In my life, I probably stayed in my room far too much. Father certainly thought so; he thought I should be making an effort to befriend the other children in my class. But I could never summon up the courage. So, in the evenings and weekends, I would spend a lot of time in our house, in my room. It's remarkable how much you can do in one room without being bored.
Even when Katniss came over, we usually ended up in my room. I was alive for seventeen years. The amount of time I spent in that room probably amounted to about eleven years.
On the night of the firebombs, I watched Katniss destroy the arena and went up to my room to worry about it. I had just closed the door when the lights went out. The door had been broken for the last week and if pulled too hard, would lock itself. I was stuck.
My father came up after a few minutes to try and coax me out. When I explained my problem, Theren stayed outside while my father went to get my mother. In the dark. I didn't hear from him again. Instead, Theren talked about random things such as what he was planning to do to the flowers which grew outside our house.
I could see the orange glow of the Seam from my window and I could see the firebombs come closer. When Theren asked after my silence, I hesitated. What would be kinder? To tell him we were being attacked or to pretend there was nothing?
"Firebombs," I gasped out. "You have to run. I can't get out but you can."
The decision, when it came to it, wasn't that hard.
"No, Miss Undersee," he replied firmly. "Your father would not abandon you or the people of District 12. You wouldn't. Your mother wouldn't. And I serve your family so I won't either." And then, "I won't let you die alone up here, Madge."
I sat next to the door and thanked him. He began to tell me more about beautiful carvings and paintings and flowers. I tried not to focus on anything except him. It calmed me.
When it happened – the bomb which fell on my house killing us – I thought about my parents and Theren and Lera and Katniss and other people I'd loved. And I thought about how ironic it was. I'd practically lived my life in this room and now I was dying in it. My coffin. Not the sort of death which other people have. But maybe the one best suited to me.