"What's her name?"
"Birdie I think, she's from district 1. A career?"
"She looks too, fragile to be a career. Not a bird. A chick right out of her egg"
"She'll be dead the second she steps into the arena. Only thirteen, I think. Definitely not a thr...
Hey guys! Ok warning; this chapter probably won't make sense and is horribly written since I did it very fast but it'll be better in the next chapters. Reminder that this is after katniss died so the games are stricter and more people are reaped and there is a new president. Read the description if you don't understand completely! Hope you like it! Xx
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I couldn't say I wasn't beautiful, my face fresh as a daisy, with cold piercing eyes that were emerald some days, grey to blue on others. Soft blond hair fell past my shoulders touching my arms. My lips red as blood.
Birdie?'. I hear a voice sharp and clear. Familiar. I wanted to run but the voice was so familiar. Footsteps ran through leaves, past trees. I need to run, maybe she won't see me. 'Birdie?". She knows my name. I should really go now. But her voice. I know it and it roots me to the spot like an anchor. Why do I feel so strongly towards this person. From who? Where? No time to think. I want to move. I really do. But I can't. It's like my feet had literally sunk into the ground. That's when I catch sight of her. And familiarity hits me like a cold blow. Her face so young and pretty. Her hair willowy blonde. Like mine? My eyes widen as she nears. I try to scream, need to scream, as she runs past me calling my name again and again. She can't see me. I know she couldn't and it hurts so much. I try to scream again, so she knows I'm in front of her, but my mouth was as clamped as my feet. She's running to a boy, smiling. I'm screaming soundlessly like crazy now. My eyes shedding non existent tears. Not him, I wanted to yell. No no no not him, anyone but him. She couldn't see me or hear. It was torture. A knife is in my hand. I could throw it? My hands stiff, fling the knife at the young girls feet. She bends down and picks it up. Our eyes interlock and I see scared recognition in her eyes. Too late. The boy plunges a spear into her back. The girl hits the ground with a hard thud and sinks into the mud. My screams die away as my own knife hits my back as well. Then my neck. My hands and my legs until I'm just a pool of blood.
"Birdie". My eyes jam open, half expecting a jabbing pain throughout my body, blood seeping out all around me. Instead I'm in a small bedroom, not a forest. I'm alone. It was just a nightmare, I reassured myself, taking deep calming breaths. The dream was so real and painful, my head was pounding. My body stiff and aching.
I couldn't get the girls face out of my head, how betrayed she looked when the boy stabbed her. She loved him, trusted him. I think he felt the same way or maybe it was just an act. But the girl, she let her feelings come first. She was only nine at the time. The first of our district reaped out of the new harsher hunger games. I gave an agonised sob. I remembered the boy, from district 2, on the victory tour like it had been yesterday, not three years ago. He looked scared and sad, possibly regretful. I could've forgiven him. I knew I couldn't now, it was too late.
On the victory tour, our district, district one, came first and he watched me the whole time he made the speech to the four grieving families who's children, or siblings, had been murdered in the games. Being the only one in her family, I stood their, sister-less loathing the boy who killed her.
