Rowan screamed in pain as he dragged himself away from the lake. The mud stained his clothes and rocks tore at his body as he crawled away, blood dripping from his mouth. He had left the alligator mutts behind when he had pulled himself over the slippery drop-off that had been too steep from them to climb. He stained the grass scarlet as he pulled himself away.
Propping himself up against a tree, he took inventory of himself. His entire body was cut and his skin was bruised in different variants of grotesque colors. Trembling, he reached downward to feel his leg. The pain was so severe that it threatened to overwhelm him. The wounds gushed ruby liquid onto the ground and he felt as if his strength was being drained away.
His life flashed before his eyes.
He was little, only three, standing on the deck of a beautiful boat. The rising sun painting the landscape in gorgeous pinks and yellows, the light reflecting off the water like a mirror. A flock of birds flew in V-formation off in the distance, heading somewhere cooler for the summer months. His mother sat next to him, reading a book, her long black hair flowing in waves and her bark green eyes sparkled in the light of the rising sun.
He was five and on the beach, playing Frisbee with his father who laughed. His father's smile was beautiful and bright enough to light up all of District Four with its radiance. They kicked up sand as they ran and dived after the Frisbee and his mother watched them with a silent beam from where she sat on a dark green blanket a few feet away.
He was seven, tears racing down his cheeks as he stood next to his mother and watched his father's body drifting away on the small boat. His mother silently threw the torch on the dead body of her husband. Rowan watched as his dad was devoured by the flames.
He was thirteen and at his mother's bedside as her breathing slowed. Her skin was grey, all its color and beauty had been drained away. With a shaking hand she reached up and caressed her only son's face. She used her last breath to say, "I love you."
He was sixteen and standing silently at the Reaping when his name was called. He made his name up to the stage; confetti flying through the air and the calls and shouts of District Four reaching his ears. He couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his face.
He was walking in the arena and suddenly fell, landing hard in the water. Alligators the sizes of horses with glowing yellow eyes and thrashing tails were on him immediately, ripping at his flesh. Three of them went for his right leg, tearing at his skin so violently that chunks ripped off and blood poured out like a waterfall.
Everything had been taken from him in his life. Now his life would be taken from him as well.