Chapter 4: Rowan Turner

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I rouse from dreams when I hear a loud, hauntingly-familiar shriek. I look beside me to where Jasmine had been the night before, and find it empty. I begin to panic. I struggle to my feet but find I can run just fine now. I sprint to the elevator, and when it opens, hop inside. I pick up Flick, Katniss and Peeta. Flick, seemingly, knows where to go. He presses the button down to the arena and when the elevator reaches that level, everyone gasps. The arena has been blown to bits. I run into the mess until I see Jasmine's black, wavy hair underneath a big piece of a concrete wall. "JASMINE!" I yell until I can hear myself over the screech of metal-against-metal. I rush to her side and find her thigh has been cut pretty deeply, her ear looks like it was mauled by a dog and she has a broken rib or something because it's sticking out at weird angles. "Medic!" I cry. Peeta rushed off to find a medic. I held her, gently laying her head on my lap. "Medic!" I yelled again, this time I voice-cracked really badly. She blinked her eyes open, her soot covered face and messy hair making him hyperventilate. "Medic!" I whimpered, and with a trembling hand, swiping her hair from her face. She caught my hand and blinked weakly, in a confused way. "Rowan?" She whispered. "What's going on? Why do we need a medic? Are you hurt?" She touched my face. For some reason it made me laugh, considering the state she was in.

By the time the medic had come, I was holding her limp hand in mine and she was unconscious. "We were lucky it was only her in here," Katniss said "Two dead tributes would have been worse." "She is NOT dead!" I spun around and snapped furiously at her.

"She WILL survive! She has to, for the games!"

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