Part 26
I'm the last to wake up, but I feel refreshed. I can feel the sunshine on me and the birds are chirping. I haven't felt this rested since I was in the bush. Slowly, I stretch and climb down my tree. The ground is still wet with dew. It feels like a spring morning. Rue is already up and is using her crutches. I walk to her. "Hey, are they a good size?" I ask her. She nods, "Yes. How did you know what size to make them?" She asks me. "Well, we are the same height. I just made the crutches so they could fit me." I tell her. She smiles and says, "Thanks. They are great. I didn't know anyone could make crutches out of wood. And if they could, I didn't know they worked so well." She tells me. This time I smile, "Well, my mother is a healer at home. I help her a lot and I picked that up. Hey, can I sing your 4 note whistle? I want to hear the mockingjays again." I ask her. "Sure, go ahead." She tells me and that's what I do. The notes are simple G, B, A, D. I sing it and everything is quiet. Then, song bursts out! Beautiful notes are sung by the mockingjays. The notes harmonize so perfectly and everything is so peaceful. "That is amazing." I tell her. I sing it one more time and Rue echoes me. It creates a commotion with the birds, deciding which one to listen to. About half listen to Rue and half listen to me. Rue's notes are a little higher, and the mockingjays sound beautiful. We haven't had music on our house for a long time. It's been, since my father died I have heard anything so beautiful. "Hey, where is Peeta?" I ask Rue when the mockingjays start to stop singing. "I think he went to the pond to get some fish. Do you want to go find him?" She asks me. Yes, I do. I nod and we start walking. The crutches really do work well. I'm glad. As we walk along, I have to wonder what the smell hitting my nose is. It smells like someone is cooking food. Why would Peeta start a fire to cook the fish now? The careers are probably just on their back to camp and may see him. We go a little further and I hear a voice. I hear the boy first and I thought maybe it was Peeta. Then I heard the girl and I stop in my tracks. Rue hasn't heard her yet so I have to tackle her, causing a commotion. I know we are too loud and the careers have heard us. They slowly stand up and start walking toward us. I put my hand over her mouth and was very quiet. I held my breath waiting for them to pass. Instead, of course, they stop right by our bush. Very quietly, I lift my head as they are picking up one of Rue's crutches. "Hey Cato, were there any crutches at the cornucopia?" Clove asks. Cato walks over to her and grabs the crutch. "Even if there were, someone made these. The cornucopia would have had fancy ones, not ones made from a tree. Someone is close, let's look around." They first start in the other direction, but Rue's foot slips and they freeze. They slowly turn around and head toward our bush. I have my bow and the arrows I stole from Glimmer. As they are about to open my bush, I shoot Clove right through the heart. I feel bad of course, but there is nothing I can do. Cato throws a spear and it just misses me. I shoot at him, but I only catch his leg. He takes off limping. I'm not chasing after him; I don't want to kill him. I do however, shoot another bow at him so it slices his other leg and he will be laid up for a while. I hear Clove's cannon go off. I turn to Rue, "Man, that was a close one. I'll go get your crutch." I tell her. As I'm exiting the bush, she grabs my hand. I turn around and see the spear Cato threw at me, sticking out of her stomach. "No, no this isn't happening. NO!" I try to be quiet, but no one will hear me. Except maybe Peeta, and I need him. I kneel down beside her and I assess the wound. It went all the way through her stomach and out her back. There is no way I can save her. Even if I could, she would be paralyzed for sure. I start crying, but her shaky voice stops me, "Prim, its ok. Don't cry please. Please Prim, don't cry." I hold back my tears. If her dying wish is to not see me cry, then I will give it to her. Slowly, as I did when she first got injured, I move her head. I let it rest on my lap. She says to me very quietly, "Music. Singing. That is what I loved most. Can you, sing to me until I..." I won't let her finish that sentence. I don't know what song to sing to her. One of my father's songs maybe, if I could remember one. The Hanging Tree stands out, but that's not something to sing to someone who is dying. Then, my sister pops up in my head. She sings this song to me whenever I'm scared or upset about something. "Deep in the meadow, under a willow. A bed of grass, a soft green pillow." Her breathing is starting to slow down. "Lay down your head, and close your eyes. And when again they open, the sun will rise." She is starting to close her eyes. Her chest is moving slower and slower. "Here it is safe, here it is warm. Here the daisies guard, you from every harm. Here your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true." She is taking her last breath as I slowly and very softly, whisper the next line, "Here is the place, where I love you." Silence, a few birds, than a cannon. Tears start to spill. I already kept my promise though. I didn't cry until now. My tears fall onto her face and down her cheeks. Her face, once so alive with happiness and hope, are pale. I kiss the top of her head and slowly lay it on the ground. She loved everything beautiful in the world. Everything bright and colorful. I can't let her death be like all the others. I have to do something that pops out. I pick some primroses from a nearby bush, and place them in her hands over the wound. I stand there, looking at her. It's horrible knowing she was alive only 15 minutes ago. We were walking together only 15 minutes ago, and now she is gone. I still have tears running down my face as I look at the bird on my bracelet, and whistle her four note tune. I stand there, putting the 3 middle fingers on my left hand to my lips, and reaching them out to her. Back home, this is something we usually do at funerals. It's our way to say goodbye to someone braves. Someone you love. Someone you respect. All three adjectives fit Rue.