The food lasted me for just two days. Two days of pure torture, two days of dismay and tears. I lost everything, just because of the games. I lost my life, I lost THE life, OUR life, the baby. And it's just because of the cruelty of our lands. I just want to hold Marvel again, touch him, be with him and our baby, but it's no use. This is a game and Marvel has already lost.
There's just me, the two (fortunate) lovebirds, Cato, and Thresh. Cato terrifies me the most, he's the strongest and the well trained, and I know that with just one flick, I would die, and I doubt he'd just do it one flick, I know that I'd feel every second as he slowly drags his sword onto my skin, enjoying my pain.
I trudge along the woods, the sadness and anger in my heart, and the fear in my brain, as I reminisce the familiar steps, the steps the forest I have walked through during Marvel's last hours, I have grown accustomed to. I camp out where he died, the willow tree where his blood trickled. I always picture him there, but not as a dead man, but as a father, playing with our would be child, sitting in the grass, laughing and inviting me to join them. I would reach out my hand, eager to come, eager to leave the mess where I am, but it's useless, because I know the only way to reach him is to end my life as well.
And the worst part is, I think the possibility of me joining Marvel is very high, as the days pass by.
YOU ARE READING
Through a Fox's Eyes
FanfictionShe sees things. She understands. She has a burden larger than any tributes, even Katniss'. She's the typical wallflower, who was smart enough to be in the final five. Join her in the games, see the Hunger Games through a fox's eyes.
