The room was stuffy. It was made solely from grey brick, and had two single chairs. I occupied one of them, the other waiting for a visitor to come say goodbye. I waited for about 5 minutes before Coryl showed up, showing no signs of remorse.
"You're strong. If you're gonna die, make sure the girl wins. We need a District 12 winner, even if it is just for the extra food. Protect her. Protect yourself. I'll see you on the other side." And he leaves, just like that. No hug, not even a handshake. Not a single tear. Before I have time to react to this, my mother walks in, bringing her strong scent of ash and baked bread.
"You have been a good son." She pats me on the head awkwardly, later regretting the decision.
"Coryl wasn't that nice to you, huh." I shake my head, my eyes flaring down.
"District 12 might finally have a winner." She says. To compensate for the head pat, she gives me a short hug and leaves. Even by her short goodbye, I was still comforted by her saying that she believed in me.
VOUS LISEZ
The Hunger Games - Peeta's POV
FanfictionEveryone knows about Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire. But does anyone know what it was like for the boy with the bread? Here are some side tales, explanations for certain behaviour, and a descriptive story of The Hunger Games from Peeta Mellarks'...
