I NEVER WANTED ANY OF THIS, I JUST WANTED TO GO HOME..
'I KNOW, BUT NOW YOU HAVE A CHOICE TO MAKE..'
I DON'T WANT TO CHOOSE..I LOSE BOTH WAYS..
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frag·ile
/ˈfrajəl,ˈfraˌjīl/
adjective
1. easily broken or damaged.
"Before there was a dangero...
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"YOUR LIVING PROOF OF THAT.."
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Sitting amongst the sea of Victor's and Mentor's, she cowers in her seat at the commentary provided by Cesar Flickerman and his co-star. It was bad enough that they had been ushered into a tightly packed room to watch the final two of the Games battle it out, but the commentary just made it worse. Comments like, 'There he goes off the edge of the cliff! Let's replay that sound for the audience so they can hear his skull crushing.' Just gross, disgustingly gross.
Turning her head away, she flinches at the sickening sound of the boy from District Two crushing the girl from Seven's head with his bare head. Covering her mouth with her hand, she holds back the urge to hurl her lunch, the sounds so loud and vile. It sounded like something straight out of her Games and worst nightmares. Feeling a gentle hand on her shoulder, she flinches at the touch, her body instantly kicking into full alert.
"Hey, it's almost over. Just a little longer, kiddo." Haymitch whispers, his voice surprisingly soft.
"The boy from Two, is he..?" She stops herself, not able to actually speak of it.
"It's almost over. The cannon is going to go off any second now and it will all be over. I promise you."
"The girl is she..?" She whispers, turning to look back at the screen.
"Hey, hey, hey! Don't look, don't look." He whispers, blocking her view of the TV screen.
Listening to his command of not look, she flinches as the loud bang of the cannon goes off, the persona she tried to present of being unphased by the Games crumbling. She wanted to be brave, to be this perfect Victor, to prove that she was fine and not affected by the Games anymore. But, it was all crumbling down. She wasn't being brave like she wanted. She was being weak.
Holding back the urge to burst into tears, the room is a mix of sullen and loud celebrations for the newly crowned Victor. The glint in their eyes saying what they were all thinking, the girl from Seven's death was brutal even for the Games. Digging her nails softly into his arm, she chews hard on her bottom lip, hoping that they get dismissed from the room.
"Don't look, don't look." He whispers, "Don't look, kiddo."
"Please tell me that it is over, Haymitch."
"Shh, it's okay. It's almost over." He whispers reassuringly, patting her on the back.
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Picking apart the piece of pomegranate, she places the juicy seeds on the plate, Finnick instantly eating the seeds off the plate. Neither one of them yet acknowledges the horrific end of this year's Hunger Games. The way that the boy from Two crushed that poor girl's skull in with his hands. No person, no kid their age should be able to do something like that. It was just...traumatizing, more than her Games ever were. She swore to District Twelve and back she could still hear the sickening crunch in the back of her mind, the wheezing of the girl, then the boom of the cannon.
