I sit in a tree, thinking. Should I just wait for the others to kill each other off? I feel like that's the cowardly way to win, but then again, I've been pretty cowardly this whole time.
I wonder what will happen if I go home. I won't be the same person. Not the same sweet, healing Prim I've always been. I've seen death up close, and not just people who get injured in the mines. Deaths that only exist because of the Capitol.
Seventy-four Hunger Games....Twenty-four tributes....Twenty-three dead every year...more than one thousand unnecessary deaths since the games began.
Then, with a pang, I think of Peeta. I left him behind. But I had to. Otherwise we might have to kill each other, and that won't happen on my watch. I left him the bottle of disinfectant, though in retrospect, I think I need it more than he does. His shoulder has been healing quite nicely, but my wrist hasn't been so lucky. It's sticky with infection, and I think I have a fever.
I climb down the tree and find a small pool. I soak my hand and wrist for a while, and hear a distant scream. The District 5 girl. The cannon rings out in the mid-day air.
I place the bandage on my wrist again and set out. I don't care if I die anymore. I would rather Peeta wins than have to watch him die. I'm going to find Marvel, fight him, and die if I need to.
I left the sword with Peeta, though I'm not sure how good he is with it, but I need my knives. I take a deep breath. This is it. But I'm not afraid. I am a different girl.
I run through the woods, purposely making noise. Maybe I can attract Marvel's attention. I stop, start a fire and wait for a few minutes. Looking at the fire reminds me that I haven't eaten since yesterday. And before that, when I was with Elm.
He doesn't come, so I begin running through the woods again. Eventually, I see a figure walking slowly through the trees, towards me. Marvel.
"Where's your 'big brother?'" He asks. "You're going to die, you know?"
"Not if I can help it," I take off back the way I came from with Marvel chasing me.
See, my plan is to make it almost as far as where I left Peeta. Then when Marvel kills me, Peeta will be so angry and kill him himself. I'll be taking a major risk. Sacrificing myself when I don't even know if Peeta will be lucky enough to kill him.
I break out into the massive clearing where the Cornucopia is. And I see Peeta at the other side of the clearing. No! I can't let Peeta kill Marvel before Marvel kills me!
I skid to a stop and Marvel trips over me. He slams me to the ground and drives his spear through my shoulder. Out of instinct, I drive my knife into his foot.
Why am I doing that? I'm supposed to die, not defend myself. I guess I'm more afraid of death than I thought.
Peeta's been running to us and tackles Marvel. He takes his sword and lifts it to kill Marvel.
"No!" I rasp. I push Peeta out of the way and stop him.
"Why would you do that?" Peeta demands.
I don't have time to answer. I'm obviously not going to be killed by Marvel, because he's too caught up with Peeta.
"I'm not going to kill you," I pant. "I don't want to watch you--"
Marvel knocks me over and attempts to pierce Peeta again. He blocks the blow, and stabs Marvel in the gut.
"No!" I say as loudly as my injured throat will allow.
Marvel sinks to the ground, clutching his abdomen. We just wait a moment and the cannon goes off.
I fall to the ground, tears filling my eyes. Who knows what will happen now? I refused to kill him, and I still won't. No matter what. He promised to protect me. I doubt he'd kill me.
"You were supposed to let me die," I croak. "Then you could kill Marvel, and go home."
"No," He says. "I don't know what will happen, but I won't kill you. So you must kill me."
"I won't kill you," I sob. Then I shout all around me. "I won't kill him!"
Those words have barely left my lips when there's a sound of barking in the trees. It's coming closer.
"Mutts!" I say.
We take off towards the Cornucopia as fast as we can, using the other for support. The mutts behind us are of all shapes, sizes and colors. They're wolf-like creatures, but they're massive. They're growling, and there's about twenty-two of them. Twenty-two.
Twenty-two dead tributes. These are the dead tributes in mutt-form. I choke back a sob.
We jump and try to climb the Cornucopia. I get to the top, but see that the mutts are pulling Peeta down. I reach my hand out to help him up. As I haul him to the top, the horrifying sound of a leg disconnecting from the body meets my ears.
I can't hold it back anymore. I scream, the loudest my voice has gone since the boy from District 10 choked me.
I lay him down, and his leg is gone from the knee down. The mutts are still crowding around the Cornucopia, trying to climb it.
I take the bandage from his shoulder, trying to use it for his leg. But we both know he's losing too much blood too quickly.
"I'm sorry, Peeta." I choke out through my tears. I'm having trouble speaking again. "I. Nev-er. Should. Have. Left. You."
He looks like he's trying not to cry from the pain. "I-it's okay, Prim. You did what you thought was right."
"But--"
"Shh," he says. "You're about to win the games. You'll never have to go hungry again." He lets out a feeble cough. "You'll be sa-safe. Finally."
I cover my quivering lip. I can't believe the games are ending this way. I should have just run off, waiting to starve to death. Then he'd be safe.
"Show them, Prim." He says quietly, so that the cameras can't hear him. "You are and you'll never be just a piece in--"
He's gone. The mutts leave. I let a scream escape my throat again. A sickening, blood-curdling scream.
I was right all along. I'm not the same Prim from District 12. That Prim wouldn't have let this happen. That Prim wouldn't be plotting to get revenge on the Capitol, in whatever way that may be. That Prim wouldn't be planning to cause trouble in her district. This Prim is different. This Prim is ready to do both those things. She's ready for revenge, for trouble. This Prim wants to tear apart the Capitol piece by piece.
And I think I like her.
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