Disclaimer: Still do not own Hunger Games...
I was thinking about not updating today, 'cause then I would have two less reviews than chapters, and I don't like differences of two.
Malia Falion (Age 12) female – District 5
While squinting against the blinding sun, I am beginning to believe I'm dead. Everything is black; if not black then everything is nothing. Is this is what it's like to die? There was no pain, so I guess that was a good thing. Death wasn't something that preoccupied my twelve-year-old life until recently. I only started to think about it when I was reaped for the Hunger Games, to be exact.
I'm starting to think that this isn't so bad; I don't even remember stepping off the platform. I don't even remember the gong ringing for that point. Perhaps it was just a memory lapse though. That is the thought that convinces myself of that. Then I hear a noise, followed by feet running, which is in turn followed by a scream a few minutes later.
Panic surging through me I start to blink my eyes rapidly. I'm trying to regain my vision that was lost to the sun. Slowly, too slowly, it seems, my vision returns to me. And once it does, my eyes open as wide as they can. I see the battle raging in front of the Cornucopia. Why I have yet to be struck is a mystery. What a fool I must be, standing here, unmoving. I try to think of what my mentor told me. Move quickly, get supplies and run once the gong rings. But how long ago was that? I struggle to remember. Would it still count now?
I shake my head, I have to stop thinking. I need to let instinct take over. But what if I can't? Urr! I'm thinking again! Without another thought, other than the thought to not have another thought, I run to the Cornucopia. I just need to let instinct take over. I can do this. I run forward enough to swipe a loaf of bread. Such a small picking that I'm forced to go farther.
Dashing in another fifty meters I grab a brown backpack. I'm shrugging it onto my shoulders when I see him. The boy with the golden bow, and I know he will kill me without hesitation. So I don't hesitate. I turn and run for the safety of the bog. I see him take aim, and I try to run harder. As fast as I can, but I can't outrun the arrow. I can't dodge it.
It pierces the base of my skull, and I involuntarily let out a bloodcurdling scream. I land with a splash in the water, scarcely breathing. My eyes are still aware of everything. I can see him now. He is running towards me, coming to retrieve his deadly arrow from my dying body.
As his shadow falls over me, I let my eyes slip close. The numbing pain becomes a new wave of misery as the arrow's head is ripped from me. I let out yet another scream, and the boy knows that I have yet to die. It isn't long before his foot crushes my skull; showing me what death truly is.
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