𝘪𝘹. 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙡𝙡

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CHAPTER 9
- 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗹𝗹
( 𝗯𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗯𝘂𝘁𝘀𝗸𝘆𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 )

CHAPTER 9- 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗹𝗹( 𝗯𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗯𝘂𝘁𝘀𝗸𝘆𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 )

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             For a moment, the world stops

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For a moment, the world stops. As the strong waves of water slosh over my feet and the breeze makes my lips dry, I can't focus. Everything around me is rippling—the ground, the tributes, the Cornucopia. The gleaming horn is about 40 feet away on a small, circular island, and twelve spokes extend from it with two tributes poised on each end. I focus on my breathing, trying to stop the unyielding dizziness that has suddenly taken control of all my senses. My throat tightens, and as the gong sounds, I do the only thing I can think of.

            I dive into the water, clumsier than my usual perfected form, towards the center and towards the other 23 bloodthirsty tributes. The water cools my face and slips into my mouth when I rise up to take a breath. It's salty, which definitely complicates things. But the waves are easy to navigate through, and I see why the skin-tight jumpsuit was a good option.

            My pace is steady, but before I can make it to the middle, a large body falls on top of me, pushing me deeper into the waves. The person is undeniably male, very much alive, and from the way he shoves me down, very eager for my death. He propels me deeper into the waves, my lungs screaming for air that won't be given anytime soon, so I attempt to maneuver my legs to hit him between the legs. My shot is miscalculated, and my foot swoops to hit nothing. I scream in pain as my back slams into the sandy floor.

             I never knew I would go down this easily. In my own territory, in water where I was practically raised back home. My struggling is useless when his hands lock around my throat, and in the moment, I open my eyes to see Brutus. The beating of my heart slows, and all my previous panic seems to be released at once. Death, it's what I've wished for all these years, to be relieved from the pain and horror. And now, it's finally greeting me. Death's hand is reaching out to me, begging me to join him on a walk into the afterlife.

            But, is this truly what I want? To die so quickly, so suddenly without the chance to see the government fall and see the Mockingjay's victory? I won't hug Crane, my little brother with those bright green eyes. I'll never see the Finnick again either.

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