This chapter changed a lot every time I wrote it. This is the final games chapter, who knows who's going to win? When most people, just read.
I take some food out of my backpack, knowing that I have time, the Gamemakers will want the death match to viewed by the people of Panem not at at midnight when the strict viewing hours have ended. Of course if it did happen now, my family is surely watching, forcing themselves to stay awake and watch me. I think of the girl who took the blade, she said sorry, she was so sure that the person was watching that she said sorry to them. I can't help but think about the person she said sorry to, was a friend or a sibling. Whoever it was they watched her die, and watched me live instead. I would hate me if I was them, if someone lived instead of someone I loved. As time moves onwards, the moon refuses to move leaving me, and everyone else in still cringing onto live in this arena, completely unaware of the real time. Unless someone has a clock of kind, but the likeliness of that is next to impossible. I don't think the sun would have rose by now, but it could of, even if the moon was moving time means just about nothing in here. Nothing apart from the seconds slowing counting in till someone or something seals you fate. I climb up a tree, thinking of everything that has happened in this arena and realise that I've not even been in here for a week, and yet the time I've spend here makes me feel that like I've been in for weeks. I look at the bracelet that's still on my wrist, why did Saffron give me this, she could have just kept it. Maybe because she wanted to make sure it went to her friend, because she didn't know if her friend would take it. I find myself running my feather through my fingers, and a tear beginning to run down my cheek. She was innocent, I guess everyone in here was innocent, and each one of us is made to kill for crimes that were done eighty years ago. I get out my sleeping bag, knowing that sleep could just save me in the final battle. I wake up to a long scream and a boom of a cannon to show it was their last. Just one more tribute, it's me or them how gets of here alive. A thought still hovers in my mind, why would a person about to make it to the final two let someone scream, therefore giving away their position? They wouldn't, so it had to be something else that killed that person. It could have been a simple trap, but I think the more likely killer is mutts. The scream came from behind me, how far behind me I don't know. I grab my sleeping bag and stuff it into my backpack before climbing down the tree. They come out of nowhere, large black cats with claws sharper than the knifes I wield. Their eyes are almost impossible spot the same black as the fur that covers their body. I run, but they're fast making me fear if I stop that I'll caught and face a death that I can't fight. The snow crunches under my feet, reminding me how the jungle died like that tributes in this arena. I make it the the clearing what holds the Cornucopia before I trip. I think that the mutts are going to kill me, but they don't. I stand and and see them, refusing to move pass the edge of the jungle, like they were chasing me out of their territory. I see her on the other side of the clearing, her light brown hair going down onto the pale blue fabric of the coat that she's wearing. A long trident is in her hand shows as she turns to look at me. Her sea green eyes looking into mine, ready to kill one last time and go home. I take one of my knifes knowing how far we have both come, but it's all or nothing. She walks towards me, a devilish grin on her face knowing that she has the advantage. She's older, she's trained and has just as much right to go home as me. She throws her trident which just slices my hip, a wave of pain going through my body. I relieve that now she has no weapon, as I throw the knife in my hand hitting her in the shoulder. She curses, as I throw another hitting her in the stomach as seeing her fall to the ground, not dead but slowing dying.
"I'm going to play a game Heather," the words I said runs through my mind, that's what they've been making everyone do, be a piece in their games. The girl doesn't seem to be able to get up, she had before this, there must be people who cared about her. I take one final knife from my belt, and throw it into her heart letting the final cannon boom. The final child free from the pain of the arena, and me, the winner free to live in luxury for the murder that I did. The trumpets sound and Claudius Templesmith's sounds like it did yesterday,
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Eightieth Hunger Game. I'll give you Autumn Malet of District 11." Yet all I can think, after everything I've seen in here, why was I the one who won? Why did Saffron and Odin have to die? Who deceived that I'm better than everyone else who come into this arena? Twenty-three people died in this place, why was I the one who was aloud to came out?
So Autmun won, that wasn't the plan but Fox told me that she should win not a character never talked about in till this point. Any ways Emily, I came so yeah.
