Okay, never mind. THIS is the shortest-but-most-intense chapter. But you'll read it, and you'll understand why it had to stand on its own.
…sorry…
I am horrified.
Traumatized.
Terrified.
Surprised.
Lots of other things, too, but four adjectives is all my mind can handle right now. Prim, Peeta, and I have all joined hands, for support. For strength. Mother has not joined the chain, but she is staring at a spot just to the left of the television, giving the impression that she has checked out completely. I cannot worry about her now.
Gale and Madge.
This is exactly what I was afraid of.
Something changes, as soon as the cannon goes off. They'd been holding each other- much like we are at home- but now they step away. Gale doesn't draw his bow, but he holds it at the ready. I suck in a huge breath of air, waiting for the inevitable.
Madge has tears in her eyes. She's always been a crier. I flash back to ten years ago, a substantially simpler time, when I beat her at hopscotch and she sobbed for the entire recess period. Granted, those tears may not have been as justified as the ones she's shedding now.
"I didn't think we'd make it this far," she murmurs. "Never in a million years."
"Neither did I." Gale sounds uncharacteristically serious. It's hard to believe he was, not an hour ago, taunting Cato.
It's different now. It's so different.
Gale and Madge are starting to look battle-worn too. There are spatters of dried blood on both of their faces, and in addition to the scorched hair, part of Gale's pant cuff is torn away from an overzealous mutt. More than any of that, their dead and devastated eyes show what they've been through.
"This isn't how I wanted it to happen," he continues. My stomach twists into knots as I realize I don't know what's going to happen- or even what I want to happen. "I just always thought…"
"…that we'd have more time," Madge finishes. She hasn't looked away from Gale, not once. I wonder if she's thinking the same thing I am: we have to drink in the sight of him while we still can.
There's no point in drawing it out. I know that; I know Gale knows it too. The wall of fire hasn't eased at all; there's no escape. Sure, they could stand on opposite sides of the clearing and refuse to kill each other, but the Gamemakers have proved they're willing to intervene. It would only be a matter of time before they decided to smite one of the remaining tributes, stripping them of their final choice and a dignified end.
"I don't want to fight you, Gale."
"I don't want to fight you either."
I thought, worst-case scenario, Gale would go down in battle defending Madge. I never thought their last opponents would be each other, standing off on the Cornucopia.
"Kiss me," she says, more forcefully than I've ever heard her talk. "Kiss me goodbye, and then it starts."
Panic flashes through me. Are they going to fight? I can't imagine the lovers turning on each other, but I guess we've already proved my imagination isn't that imaginative. It's certainly what the Capitol wants them to do.
Gale's face betrays nothing, but he slings his bow over his shoulder and obeys. I notice he doesn't put his last arrow away, though, keeping it clenched in his left hand while his right tips Madge's chin up to meet his.
This is the first time they've kissed, where I haven't been able to look away. So much love- their last chance to express it- so much passion, embodied in that kiss, so much tongue.
I start as I realize what he's doing. The arrow. Common sense finally sets in. He's pulling her closer; he's drawing his hand back. To swing, to stab, but it's not his own heart he's aiming for.
After he promised to protect her.
A cry escapes my lips. "Gale!"
It's as if they heard me. They break apart, and I watch in horror as Gale's grip on the arrow tightens. Just when I think I know what's going to happen, they surprise me one last time. Well, Madge does. She nimbly unbuckles her throwing knife- the one Gale gave her, to protect herself- from her belt and pierces her own chest.
Both tributes cry out. Madge crumples as soon as the blood starts to gush out of her chest, and Gale, apparently still possessing some common sense, catches her and eases her fall. Her technique was a little sloppy, I observe. She missed her heart. She will not have the quick death I always give my prey.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. Right. She stabbed herself to save his life, and she's sorry. "It had to be me. I knew that from the start."
"Madge…" Gale's voice comes out tiny. His face has turned deathly white, but he doesn't shed a tear as he arranges himself near her and strokes her hair. The Gale I know would never cry.
I feel close to tears, just watching the scene, and Prim weeps openly next to me.
"I'm sick. I'll die anyway." Madge's blue eyes are more soulful than ever, and for the first time, I don't resent her for it. I don't know what I feel. Every beat of my heart pumps a new, confusing, Gale-and-Madge intertwined thought through my head and I think the best thing is just to not deal with them until the inevitable end.
Gale doesn't say anything, but I can see the set of his jaw that means he's thinking really hard. He strokes her golden hair wordlessly as the life seeps out of her.
Horrified.
Traumatized.
Terrified.
Surprised.
This is not how I thought it would end.
"I'm just thankful-" Madge's voice is barely there. "-I got to spend my last days with you. That's all I could have asked for."
I see Gale swallow hard. He leans over and kisses her forehead, and her eyes close for the last time. A few more moments, a few more shallow breaths.
Gale explodes along with the cannon. He leaps away from Madge's body, leaps off the Cornucopia. Claudius is trying to congratulate him- for he has won- but he keeps shouting, cursing himself, cursing his mentor, howling like Cato howled for Clove.
It's his last words, though, that haunt me.
"Katniss!" he bellows. A white-hot bolt of panic shoots through me when I hear my name. Why would he say my name? "I'm coming home, Katniss! You hear me? I promise!"
I can't help it. I shudder.
"…an asset in the arena, but truly no common sense," comes Haymitch Abernathy's voice. As annoying as it is to hear him complain about Gale, I'm grateful they switched the feed. "And he's unbearably lucky. We don't have a single thing in common."
"You're aware he just won the Games, right?"
"Okay, one thing in common. But that's it."
I tune out. I feel numb.
Horrified.
Traumatized.
Terrified.
Surprised.
What. Just. Happened?
Like I said…sorry! Had to happen! Maybe someday I'll write a story where Gadge gets a happy ending, but there was no way I could avoid killing her in this one.
TWO CHAPTERS LEFT! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with Taking Sides thus far- you're the best!
