The little girl dies so suddenly.
One second, Katniss is lounging about in the trees, the Careers storming the woods to gather food for the first time in the Games. Rue didn't light the third fire because the redheaded girl from Five was much too near. She scaled a tree and waiting until the other girl moved on. She must have been eager to get back to Katniss because she didn't see the trigger point, the net that would entangle her.
The spear pierces Rue just as Katniss reaches her. The boy from One, Marvel, dies shortly thereafter at the point of her arrow. As the little tribute dies, Katniss holds her in her lap, singing until the final breath. I feel a hard lump form in my throat as I watch the life drain from Rue. Then, the camera switches suddenly. I start, wondering why they'd choose to block the view of this emotional death? They usually show the whole thing, focusing on the corpse and the killer. It's only when the camera returns for the briefest of moments that we see little Rue's been decorated in flowers. Only one person would have done that. Katniss turns to Rue and presses three fingers of her left hand to her lips, then holds them out to the dead girl.
It's our symbol - the one we gave her here in Twelve. I don't think I've ever seen a tribute salute another like this in all the years I've been watching the Games.
Throughout this whole poignet goodbye, Peeta's been oblivious. He's hasn't moved - his leg must be hurting him too badly to even go farther up the bank. Now, he's in the process of camouflaging himself. This can only mean he's prepared to stay here until death. Using mud and weeds, he becomes almost invisible. It's a slow process - at even the littlest movements, he gives out soft moans. Sweat trickles down the side of his face as if it's costing him a great deal of effort. When he finally finishes, I can no longer tell he's there. Even though I know he's safer where he can't be seen, I hate it. I can't see his face - I have no idea how he's faring. From the way he looked earlier today, he's not well. He'll die and I might not even know until the cannon goes off.
Another thing troubles me as I stare at the mud concealing my son. Katniss has received a parachute already from their mentor. Sure, her burn was serious. And she might not have gotten away from the Careers without it. But Peeta is dying. He hasn't had food in ages and he hasn't been able to hold down much water. Every time he tries to drink, it comes back up. Surely this is worth something from a sponsor, isn't it? Katniss did get the eleven in training, but Peeta had a very memorable interview. I begin to resent their drunken mentor, Haymitch. He's clearly rated Katniss over my son and now, as the boy's life is seeping away one excruciating moment at a time, he gets nothing. No silver parachute to save him or put him out of his misery.
The field is down to eight - well, it was until a few minutes ago. Early this morning, they came to do personal pieces on the Twelve tributes. When the reporters showed up at the door with their bright, colored clothes and freakish hairdos, we had no choice but to answer their questions. They asked them so nonchalantly as we struggled to remember every moment that had to do with our son. The same son who was dying in a mudbank for their entertainment. It was sickening.
They asked me about Peeta's hobbies. I told them about his frosting work. About his skills in the bakery. They ate it up, telling me that if he won, to send some goods to the Capitol. They'd be all the rage.
They asked me about his disposition at home and asked me to show them his room. I was forced to tell them about his sweet, honest personality. I left out any mention of my wife's abuse. I can only handle so much.
Talking about Peeta made everything so much harder because it really brought to light how much I miss him. His smile, his laugh. The house seems so much emptier now. I wonder if he truly knows how much he brightened my life. Because right now, I doubt I'll ever get to tell him.