Catching Fire: Prim [Completed]

Chapter 27: A Piece in the Games

It's all deja vu. Buzzing sounds erupt around me as everything explodes. And by everything I mean everything. Trees go up in flames, dirt showers everywhere, and sparks of light illuminate the sky. The gamemakers must have wanted to create even more of show for the audience. The vibration is definitely there like the last time, except it's on a much larger scale. I try to block my ears to stop the ringing but the earth is shaking so hard, and my arms won't cooperate. The difference between this experience and the last is clear. The last I was smiling, enjoying how I outsmarted the Capitol by using their own weapon against them. This time the smile is upside-down, and I'm terrified of what's going to happen next.

[Will they let anyone survive? Will there be a victor of the Seventy-fifth Hunger Games? Maybe not. After all, what is this Quarter Quell but...what was it President Snow read from the card?

"...a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol..."

Not even the strongest of the strong will triumph. Perhaps they never intended to have a victor in these Games at all. Or perhaps my final act of rebellion forced their hand.] (page 380, lines 10 through 19)

What is it with myself and following the rules? What have I done? A horrible thing, that's what you've done... I was in it to save Rory and now I've robbed him of his chance of living by breaking the rules once more.

I don't see it, but I somehow know when a hovercraft appears above me. Under normal circumstances, everything would have gone quiet and I'd hear the soft tune of a mockingjay, announcing it's arrival. But I'm not under normal circumstances. There isn't the slightest chance that my ringing ears could make out such a delicate sound under all this bombardment.

I feel the cold metal claws sliding under me. My instincts tell me to scream, run, climb out, but I'm frozen in time and space, helpless, unable to do anything. And suddenly a scary thought materializes in my head. I wish I could die just like this. Because really, what more could happen if I live? Awaiting inside the hovercraft will be people from the Capitol, people that've ruined my life, people that'll make my death as slow and public as possible. So I wish I could die just like this.

But I just can't. I can't die without Rory knowing that I really did try to save his life. I can't die so young. I can't die in the hands of the Capitol. I can't die like this.

The face of none other than Plutarch Heavensbee greets me when I reach the top. Head Gamemaker. What have I done to his well designed games? With his intricate clock, fierce field of victors, and cleverly planned arena horrors, I'm sure it's been one of the best games yet. But I've ruined it for him. I've done it again. He'll lose his life as Seneca had the previous year. And It'll be my fault.

I watch as his hand reaches over for my face and I expect him to smack me. But he does something worse. He brushes his fingers over my eyelids, exposing me to darkness. They can do anything now, and I won't even see what's coming.

I feel my heart thumping wildly in my chest. It isn't from fear, nor exhilaration. I feel the moss on my arm soaking up with blood. Perhaps I'll lose enough blood and die right here. Perhaps I can die before they make me pay the price. I silently thank Johanna for the brilliant wound she has carved out as I black out.

I don't know how much time has passed when I resurface. I'm still semiconscious but...I'm alive nonetheless. I'm so vulnerable in my weak state and I'm afraid of what's to come. I feel a padded table under my back and I know I'm still laying down. I feel tubes down my left arm and I open my eyelids for confirmation. Tubes. They're trying to keep me alive.

I lift my head up slightly for a better look of my surroundings. It's a fairly large room, with a low ceiling and silverly lights everywhere. And I'm not alone. Around me are two rows of beds, facing each other. I can hear the faint breathing of my fellow victors and I want to scream. Why can't they just let us die? In frustration, I bang my head backwards onto the table, and black out.