The Game to End all Games [COMPLETED]

Chapter 29

Shaking the envelope, a piece of card falls out. Staring up at me is one of Peeta's unmistakably beautiful paintings. Undefined and rough, yet breathtaking. His small hands, clasped. His tightly shut eyes. His small, curled body. He is so perfect. A small tear slides down my cheek and reaches the corner of my smile
"You have a nephew," my mind stammers with excitement. "He's so cute!" A longing sense of melancholy smacks me as a wave of homesickness crashes through my gut. I sit, against a tree, lips pressed together, tears streaming down my cheeks. "But... but... you might not get to see him," my mind whispers. Getting to my feet, I see that the boys are also absorbed in their own world's. Hiccuping with internal screams, I turn and quickly walk away. I forget about the cameras. I forget about the audience; who have, for the most part, only seem me cry. But I don't care. I want to make it home. And I will. I'm still here and I'm still fighting.
"I want to meet him," my mind whispers, and again it is correct. Jasper peeps out from behind a tree and walks over to me, having been dragged out of his peaceful world by my disappearance. Lyam stands behind him, a tight smile distracting from his glistening eyes.
"We're nearly there," Lyam says. "Let's try to get there before night fall,"

The sky is a pale, sickly blue as we march towards the Cornucopia. I feel light-headed from our continuous walking and head injury but I force myself to push on. Tipping the canteen back, I feel the last of the water drop into my mouth. Pink and orange clouds skim across the sky, fluttering in and out of view. The light begins to fade between the tree branches. Ahead, a golden spotlight shines, hurting my eyes. Shielding them, I am able to make out a glistening outline. As the trees thin around us, I'm able to make out more and more of its shape. It's is overwhelming in stature. Its metallic surface gleams in the glistening rays of the evening sun. The world disappears around me as I stare directly at me. Jasper and Lyam, scavenging for useful equipment, disappear. The trees and their enticing, sweet pine scent vanish. The whole world crumbles. As I stare at her.

Her cheeks are sunken, accentuating her cheekbones. Her hair is a mess: knotty and tangled. Small cuts are scattered across her face like constellations. Bags have formed under her eyes from want of sleep. Her fingers, cut and stiff, get caught running through her hair. Oh, how I have changed.
"I've found a comb!" Jasper exclaims.
"That's mine," Lyam swoops down and plucks it from Jasper's grasp.
"Hey!" Jasper shouts. "That's mine!" He leaps onto Lyam's back. Lyam laughs, holding it out of his reach. The laughter stops with the flash of a blade. "I said," Jasper hisses, "that that is mine." Lyam passes it to him. Sickle in hand, Jasper jumps onto a mound of ropes and slinks away.
"I'm sorry," Lyam calls. "It was just a joke!" He runs a hand across his throat, looking sheepish and on edge.