Prolouge

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We were all sitting on the edge of our seats back home in District 12.
It was the 65th games.
The games my 16 year old brother got picked.
He was running through a field with a Career pursuing him.
We were sure he was going to get away,
but he stopped to catch his breath.
The trident entered him before we could scream for him to keep on running.
The Career pulled it out, the trident glistening with his blood.
He stabbed him again.
I will never forget the sight of my brother writhing on the ground, and goes still when the cannon fires.

I hate you Finnick Odair,
I hate your guts.

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