Author’s Note: I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY IT’S LATE! I had so much homework to do. But it’s all over now, and I’ll start writing more frequently now. Well, I leave for Canada on Thursday, and I come back next Tuesday, so I won’t be able to write. But I PROMISE I’ll give you a long and interesting chapter to tide you over until I come back! The next deadline is May 23, and it’ll be very good, I promise! I'm going to start a new thing. Every fan I have gets their own dedication, and also, I'll write something special about them. And every time you leave a positive comment, I'll dedicate a chapter to you. So this is dedicated to Josh Weissman, because he's commented three times. Thanks for your support and encouragement!
My mom used to tell me to count to 10 when you get angry. It used to work. But not anymore. I don’t think she would suggest her method anymore, not in my case. Not in a fight to the death. But right here, right now, with this dead man under my body, I need to release my anger somehow, before it gets worse, before I do something I’ll regret.
1
Do something I’ll regret? Like I haven’t done that already.
2
It’s not like I just incited a rebellion or anything.
3
Not like I set the Training Hall on fire and murdered the Peacekeepers.
4
Not like I defied President Snow at the opening ceremonies.
5
It’s not like I’m the reason Maggie sacrificed her life for me.
6
Not like I’m the reason Zane is dead.
7
Not like it’s my fault there’s a dead man under me with his head in two pieces.
8
Not like it’s my fault my sister won’t be coming out of the arena alive
9
Not like it’s my fault I gave Crystal a score of one.
10
Not like it’s my fault that Crystal and I are in the Hunger Games, and every other tribute, except maybe the Lovebirds, are targeting us as their first kill, so they can brutally murder us slowly and painfully...
My eyes fly wide open and I take in the scene under me. The big, burly Peacekeeper lies under me, headless. Half of his head lies a yard away, and the other half is nowhere to be seen. From the stump where his head should be, blood flows out in a steady rhythm. His white suit is stained blood red, soaking everything around him in the gooey substance. You can’t even tell his suit is supposed to be white, it looks as if it was supposed to be red. With horror, I see the bat still in my hand, and I drop it after noticing the amount of blood on it. But I notice something strange about this man. I hit him in the head, but some of his fingers are twisted around or completely broken off his hand, one foot is missing, his legs have cuts and bruises on them, one arm is twisted backwards, his back has a chunk of meat missing from it, and one kneecap is completely missing. I take in this bloody mess that I’m still on top of, and as I get up, my suit is stained blood red. Looks like I won’t be wearing this again. After close examination of my bloody skin, torn up suit, and damaged bat, I realize what happened.
While counting, I had been. releasing my anger for this man. But it wasn’t the counting that actually made my hatred vanish.
I almost pass out from realizing what I did.
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The 25th Hunger Games (fanfic)
FanfictionThe 25th Hunger Games have begun, and thanks to the Quarter Quell, the unbelievable has happened for 17 year old Zac Brennon, as he is thrust into the Games along with his 13 year old sister, Crystal. The tributes are bigger, stronger, and crueler t...
