132nd – Pyrite Thames, District One
…
Look, Koa may be young, but he's not stupid. He knows that there is no way he ever beats the boy from District One. In fact, Koa has no idea how he's even made it this far. He should have been dead a long time ago. From the moment his name was called in the square in District Eleven, he knew he was dead meat. Twelve-year-olds don't usually win the Hunger Games. It's not that it's never happened—it's just that it's not going to happen to him.
So he knows. He knows. He's huddled on top of the Cornucopia, hoping that there might be some chance he could get the drop on Pyrite, but knowing better. Pyrite's coming for him now. He just heard the cannon signifying the death of the girl from Four, and Koa's next.
The only reason he's still alive is because he's been running. Every time he even came to another tribute, he ran. He ran from the bloodbath on the first day, and he hasn't stopped.
There's nowhere to run now. It's just the two of them. Koa has no chance of escaping.
Pyrite's large, bloody hand slams down on the metal of the Cornucopia, and he's pulled the rest of himself up in no time. He's massive. At least six feet tall. Koa hasn't even hit five feet yet. He was always short for his age, but his mom promised he was going to catch up.
He's never going to get the chance. Pyrite has a whole torso on him. There's blood dripping off of Pyrite's clothes and the tip of his sword, and Koa is so fucked.
Yeah, that's right. He thought the word fucked. His mom would be dragging him to the sink to wash his mouth out with soap, but Koa's about to die. Cut him some fucking slack.
He just stays huddled there against the raised tip of the horn, hoping for something. A miracle, maybe.
His miracle would be Pyrite having a heart attack, falling off of the Cornucopia, and cracking his neck. That's the only way that Koa wins this.
"Come on, kid," Pyrite says through his heaving breaths. "Let's make this quick."
Koa gets to his feet, trying to ignore the way his legs feel like they're about to give out. He's so close, yet he's never going to get there. It's impossible.
Still. Koa has to try, right?
He charges at Pyrite, swinging his dinky little knife wildly. To his credit, Pyrite looks just a little bit shocked when Koa runs in knife swinging, but it doesn't last. The boy from One raises his sword and cuts straight through Koa's chest.
His legs give out. His knife hits the metal of the Cornucopia with a resounding clatter. Koa stares up at the boy from One as blood bubbles out of his chest.
"Hey," Pyrite says. "Sorry about this."
"It's okay," Koa mumbles. "I wasn't gonna win anyway."