Embers of Hope: The 69th Hunger Games

Prologue

Smiling at Ray, Brooke raised the knife in her hand to her neck.

The cold metal sent chills down her spine as it touched her skin, the sharpness already drawing blood. Brooke's hand didn't shake, it was as still as the surface of the water surrounding the Cornucopia.

She knew she must be the one to do this, she knew she must be the one not to make it. Ray must live.

Brooke met the eyes of her best friend, she saw the widening of his eyes in panic, fear taking hold of him. A stab of guilt plunged into her gut as she thought about the fact that she was doing this in front of him, and her death would undoubtedly leave him with more trauma. She did not want to terrorize him in his nightmares. She saw as his mouth opened in protest, in a desperate cry as he reached for her as if he could close the distance between them in time. Brooke smiled, knowing, he won't have enough time.

She looked upon his face one last time, drunk in his deep brown eyes, and whispered a silent goodbye.

She didn't feel any pain, and she didn't register the spray of red as her knees buckled and she fell. The knife clattered from her hand onto the black obsidian of the Cornucopia she had stood upon.

Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she glimpsed poor Ray letting out a scream as he fell to his knees, crawling towards her and placing his hands on her shoulders. Brooke couldn't feel it.

He rolled her over and her eyes met the sky for the last time. Then his face filled with blue and his tears like salt water, began to fall on her, he sobbed. Then she could see white, just peaceful white. The colors blurring together. Then emptiness, just an endless emptiness. Brooke didn't feel anything, she didn't see anything, it was just nothing, nothing at all.

A quiet ringing began to fill her ears, low at first, before growing louder, more consistent, like a telephone calling to her as she furiously tried to sleep. She was suspended in this peaceful emptiness, this nothing that held no fighting, no bloodshed, no pain. Then before everything stopped, before everything truly faded to black, Brooke thought of him. She pictured his smile. His eyes that captured the oceans. The taste of his lips on hers. She wondered what he'd do. How he'll feel when she's gone. Brooke almost felt guilty for this. For leaving him, for breaking their one-sided promise.

The last thing Brooke heard before she was truly swallowed by the blackness, was the ringing sound of a cannon, blasting through the air, the welcoming sound of death, reaching his hand out towards her.