BANG
She ran, faster and faster, away from the enemies she knew were approaching from the depths of the 23rd Hunger Games arena.
Clarys Donohue did her best to ignore the horrible pain in her foot as she sped through the forest. Unfortunately, it was not that simple.
Tears spilled on to her cheeks, terror and pain fuelling her racing heart. Clarys tried not to remember that these could be the last beats she felt. There was someone in the Games, killing off Tributes as if they were annoying flies. The cannons sound was frequent enough to point this out. Clarys didn't know who it was, or how they killed so swiftly, but she knew she was next.
Suddenly, her panicked sprint skidded to a halt. There was a dead end. The chances of finding an end like this, was close to impossible. The boulders shaping the edge of the landscape had no caves to hide in, no footing to climb on. This was the arenas edge.
No, no, no! Not now! I'm not ready! Dizziness rattled Clarys' mind. Her foot was losing blood, and the hysteria was slowly getting to her.
A feeling of imminent death sank her heart as she paused. Was it worth it to delay her fate? Before she had time to contemplate, a small, insignifigant sound plagued Clarys' ears like a disease. There was nothing, right now, more terrifying.
Without hesitation, her partially-marred feet took her away again; in no clear direction, to no certain location. Just as far away from there as possible. That sound meant nothing less than Death's voice, calling her. The sky was too clear for her to die today. Nameless forebodings crept upon her as she bolted beside the rocky prison walls. She tried to resist them, push them away, yet they came at her relentlessly.
Neither agility or speed was one of the District Seven girl's strong skills. She was sure, that had she began to escape any second later than she did, her murderer would have already claimed her life.
Although, since she grew up in the shadow of the Hunger Games, death was a subject that was attached to everyday life. Clarys always imagined that she would die safe. Maybe in her home by the mill, a nameless face and an honest worker. Never as a Tribute, representing a pawn on a chess board, to be pushed around by the powerful, for entertainment.
A fearful, shudder-inducing scream pierced the silence in the almost tranquil forest. Clarys tripped and fell, alarming the birds nearby. The pain in her foot and elbow was unbearable.
But she had no wish for her last thoughts to be on such a grim subject. Instead, she thought of her brothers. Jon, Alexander and Lucas. She thought of her mother, father and favourite cousin, Adelaide. She thought of her best friends, Cathryn and Hazel. She thought of her boyfriend, Sean. Clarys thought of her pet dog, Lupe. Such a happy dog, full of life and energy.
But the same, unfortunately, could not be said for Clarys Donohue. A poisoned arrow shot her in the neck. The assasin took no second glance. The lethal toxins grasped her heart, a brought it to a standstill.
This was just another cannon-shot, a dismissed demise of just another Tribute. At least, there was a meager consolation. At least a peaceful smile ghosted on Clarys' face, as her spirit slept, heavy with finality.
A/N: Thank you for reading, please review!
The phrase, "Nameless forebodings crept upon her as she bolted beside the rocky prison walls. She tried to resist them, push them away, yet they came at her relentlessly," is indirectly from Harry Potter, book 7, chapter 14.