The Quater Quell: 50th Hunger Games

Chapter 27

      We had finally made it up the cliffside and onto a chateau. It was beautiful. We walked for a few more minutes and finally came to a drop off of capacious canyon. "Is this it? The end?" I ask, baffled. I thought it would be more intense than just a big hole in the ground. Who knows, maybe you could climb down the canyon and have even more acreage of the arena but I wasn't going to find out.

      To be honest, I was a little disappointed. "This is it..." Haymitch sighs and faintly smiles. We rest for a few minutes and snack. I had butterflies in my stomach. I knew, that within a few hours, the game makers will have us all forced together and I will either be crowned victor, or leave this arena and this life for good.

      "Come on Haymitch, let's head back." I urge him. He halfway turns around to me and gives me a genuine half smile. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm staying." He finished as he turns back to the canyon.

       "It's okay. I think it's time for us to part ways. I-I don't want it to come down to the two of us. Good luck Haymitch. And thank you, for everything." I nod my head and smile to him, fighting back tears. The boy from 12 turns around and smiles sorrowfully, nodding back to me.

        I turn around and head back to the direction of the Cornucopia, but not the way we came. I don't want whichever tribute left, to have followed our tracks up here. I hope I won't have to kill anyone else. Hopefully, they will kill each other and I will be the victor. I want to go home. I wish I wasn't in here. I wish I didn't live in Panem. I just want to go home.

         I hear a rustling in the trees ahead of me. I get Deans dart gun ready and wait. Dang it, I shouldn't have given Lartens sword to Haymitch!  I'm not exactly rehearsed at this whole dart gun thing.

       More rustling escapes the tree tops to me left. I turn to face it but no one was there. Another sound comes from my right. I can hear something flying through the air, coming straight at me. I bring the blow gun to my lips and inhale. I duck and turn to my right. I release the dart before my eyes can lie on the target. I only catch a glimpse of a pink bird and know what would follow next. I scream.

      I am met with a sharp and burning pain at my throat. I can't breathe and am choking. A warm liquid pours from my throat. I clench my throat and then steal a look at my hands. Blood.My hands are drenched in it. I see Haymitch running towards me and try to call to him, but I cant. I fall over gurgling. I knew I was dead. There was no fixing or stitching this. I should have known better-to have hoped that I was actually going to make it out alive. I feel foolish as I lay there, swimming and drowning in my own blood.

     The pain was immense and more than I ever thought was possible. It just kept stinging and aching. But what was worse was that I was drowning in my own blood. The taste was metallic and bitter. I couldn't breath. My windpipe was slashed wide open and was being filled with blood. I gasped for air but it did no good.

     "Raven!" Haymitch cries out and falls to his knees. "It's going to be okay!" he assures me and wipes away a tear. "You're going to be okay!" He looks around, as if looking for the tribute that did this. I point to the trees above me and he turns pale. He realized that another friend of his was claimed by the pink, needle nosed birds.

      My vision begins to fade me and I can't help but think, "Raven, of all the ways to die, you are killed by a freaking bird." I smile faintly and close my eyes. I grab Haymitch's hand and hold tightly. The last thing I hear on this earth was the faint exploding boom of my own cannon.