hakuna matata {58th hg finale}

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Rosetta
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hakuna matata {58th hg finale} Aug 23, 2011 17:43:21 GMT -5

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Post by Rosetta on Aug 23, 2011 17:43:21 GMT -5

Lethe Turner

[/center]

Now, Camalia was an odd sort of lizard and she knew it too. She wasn’t a mutt. She couldn’t spit poison, bite off heads or do amazing feats. In fact, she couldn’t even communicate with other lizards. Some kind of abnormality in Camalia had deemed her unable to talk to her family, the small group she travelled with. Such a deformed lizard wouldn’t last long, but Camalia was clever. She found another way. She used her tongue.

Licking other lizards wasn’t common, but Camalia did it to show affection. She licked away, perfectly content on this form of communication. Licking meant she liked you. However, eventually, her family found this lizard much too strange and she was cast out from the group. Alone in the forest, Camalia struggled from mate to mate, desperate to find someone who’d understand her. The problem with finding a mate in the life of a lizard, was that they had to be of the opposite gender. However, Camalia had always had one dream: to mate with a girl lizard. But, that simply wasn’t to be and not only did Camalia become outcast to her family, but also to all the lizards in the forest.

Dejected, Camalia travelled for many days, hoping to starve, knowing she was never to find a mate. It came as a great surprise to her when she looked around and found herself in a magnificent, brightly colored city. People stepped all around her and cars raced by. Camalia was sure she was to be crushed, but then a man picked her up. She didn’t know who he was and his hands were cold, so she didn’t lick him. He spoke in a strange tongue she didn’t understand and as he carried her, she shook. Finally, they came into a large building with more men who spoke the same language Camalia couldn’t understand. They stared at her and laughed. They nodded and agreed.

A week later, Camalia was shipped off in a cage with several other lizards. The hovercraft was filled with an array of beasts much more ferocious than Camalia and the other lizards, who appeared only to be there for decoration. Like all the other lizards she’d met, they instantly scorned and turned her away. Camalia was on her own once more.

She was dropped off in a strange, dry land with a scorching sun and cracked earth. In fear, Camalia fled to the most friendly place she could find: a river. There, she hid among reeds and water, skirting past poisonous fish and any other threat. A few days later, the humans arrived.

It was odd, but the arrival of the humans somehow gave Camalia more hope. Something had changed. Perhaps for the better this time. Days sailed by with nothing, until one day a blonde girl stumbled into her midst. At first, Camalia stayed quiet, hoping she wouldn’t be noticed. But, the observant girl saw her and for the first time in her life, Camalia met someone kind. Someone who liked her. And Camalia found she liked her back. Really liked her. And this one didn’t object when she licked her!

It seemed Camalia had finally found her mate.

Lethe was Camalia’s mate in Camalia’s eyes even if she didn’t know it. What did it matter that Lethe was a human? She was still something, and a girl to boot. And even more, Camalia could sense Lethe had an issue herself, hiding underneath her skin. There were a lot more alike than anyone else could see. So, Camalia was determined to protect Lethe. Lethe had taken her in. Camalia owed her.

The lizard’s eyes widened in horror as Lethe took more hits. Blood was dribbling from all down her body and a pit of fear was forming in Camalia’s tiny stomach. She hated this, hated to see her mate crumbling under the pain. Clinging to Lethe’s shoulder as the girl lurched backward again, a new wound opening up on her head, Camalia frantically licked Lethe’s neck. Stay with me, Lethe![/color]

Camalia couldn’t bear to lose her too. She deeply resented this other boy, this boy who dared to harm her mate. She didn’t want to lose Lethe, Lethe was all she had when others had turned their tails on her. No, she couldn’t lose Lethe.

Camalia licked and licked Lethe until the girl’s one good eyelid fluttered and she seemed to have regained more consciousness than she previously exhibited. Camalia’s licking didn’t stop until Lethe had gripped another one of her knives and had thrown it with all her remaining strength.

You can do this, Lethe, Camalia willed her inside of her head, do it for me.[/color]

[lethe attacks razor, thrown knife]
[dice=200+9000]
[deep gash on calf: 8]
[/color][/size][/blockquote]
[rand=29715960002282769656066918144641484591358178934232944302619347895]

Last Edit: Aug 23, 2011 18:41:35 GMT -5 by Rosetta

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!

charade
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hakuna matata {58th hg finale} Aug 23, 2011 18:30:39 GMT -5

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Post by charade on Aug 23, 2011 18:30:39 GMT -5

Razor Creel

[/color][/size]

"All the lights, Were too bright to see the spark
That I've been missing for too long.
Something I've been missing for too long."

The axe struck the blond girl in the back of the head, sending ever more crimson liquid out into the atmosphere. “How do you like me now?” But who was he fighting? The blond girl shifted into Lethe again, before becoming yet another face. The tiny redhead from seven that had been the first to injure him. She laughed playfully before turning into the cowboy from five. “That’s my hat you have there.” Razor shook his head and blinked rapidly and the thing became the long-haired punk from nine. The eyes never changed though.“I don’t like your attitude.”

"My empty cup, could never fill another.
I have spilled all I've had, To make things better.
But the love of all others, Has made me new."

Was Razor going insane? Had he been insane the whole time and not known it? He took another step back. Where was Lethe? Where was the girl he was supposed to kill? Planting his feet firmly in the mud he tried to focus on whatever was coming towards him. Now it was Dustin from district twelve.“Thought you were planning to kill me?” Dustin’s form grotesquely changed to that of Jamie, a knife protruding from her chest. “What’s a matter?”She taunted.“Feeling down?”The Jamie-thing pulled the knife out from her chest and threw it at him. The blade buried itself in his leg. Razor cried out and slipped to the ground yet again, tears spilling from his face. Tears of pain, tears of anger, just tears. He hadn’t thought he would have any left after the night where Saskia had died.

"I've died inside every time I tried To lie to myself about feeling alive, alive.All these distractions, Kept me from seeing what I needed all along, An understanding."

Apparently he was still capable of crying. Leaning on his sword like a crutch, Razor got himself back up and faced the abomination before him, the bloodstained hatchet gripped so tightly in his hand his knuckles turned white. “You think you know me?”He took a shaky step forward.“You don’t know anything. You don't know what I've done to be here. You don't know how many days I trained for this. What I've sacrificed. You don't understand why I have to win.”He raised the hatchet above what he thought was Jamie. “I have not come this far to die now.” The hatchet struck.

"I need to understand what we've grown to be."

[dice=200+11000]
[Deep gash on bicep 7.0]

"Tonight, when I look into the sky
I know this is why I am alive."

[/justify][rand=38772702189191767645197227442451447787523442248942784621072072826]

Last Edit: Aug 23, 2011 18:32:50 GMT -5 by charade

16 Jul 12, 23:43
GB: I bet you just sit at your computer with a tea cup and a monocle

Rosetta
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hakuna matata {58th hg finale} Aug 23, 2011 18:43:02 GMT -5

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Post by Rosetta on Aug 23, 2011 18:43:02 GMT -5

Lethe Turner

[/center]

Just another hit…another hit…

Lethe could feel herself, faltering, her soul tugging at her naval, trying to stay rooted, but at the same time, trying to get away…just another hit, just another, Lethe, please?[/i] Lethe’s heart was racing and her body was drenched in rain water, blood and sweat. Her weak hand fingered another knife. Lethe, do it. Please.[/i]

Camalia licked her, trying to keep her on her toes. You gotta do it, Lethe, please, do it![/i] Lethe found her eye drawn to the ground. Saliva and blood dribbling from her lip, down her front and do the soil. Could she do it? She had to. She just had to. And so, Lethe forced herself to straighten up, gripping her next knife, focusing on that shadow.

Just another hit, Lethe, just another.

[dice=200+9000]

Even before the knife hit his stomach, she knew he was dead.[/color][/size][/blockquote]
[rand=69777446256451014328131101838923666440012379993573264300229746]

Last Edit: Aug 23, 2011 18:45:23 GMT -5 by Rosetta

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!

charade
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hakuna matata {58th hg finale} Aug 23, 2011 21:04:15 GMT -5

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Post by charade on Aug 23, 2011 21:04:15 GMT -5

Razor Creel

“Waiting for the end to come, Wishing I had strength to stand.”

The axe pulled free from Lethe’s head with only a little difficulty, spattering Razor with blood, bone, and what was probably brain matter. Her remaining eye looked glassy now. Not milky, like Saskia. The girl in front of him wasn’t blind, she was dead. The little lizard perched itself on its master’s chest. Did the little creature know that its owner was dead? Probably, judging by the way it hissed at him. “Don’t look at me like that. I had to do this.”It cocked its little reptilian face at him. It couldn’t understand him could it? No, that was all in his head. Just like the figures materializing out of the rain around him right?

“This is not what I had planned, It's out of my control.”

Off to his left he saw a pair, boy and girl, Staring at him and Lethe’s body. The boy had short brown hair and a scar on his throat,;the girl had…green hair? It took Razor a moment, but he recognized the pair. How could he not? He had studied the previous hunger games with a passion, looking to see where tributes from his district had failed, eager to not make the same mistakes. These were his thoughts as the ethereal forms of Ismene Clemet and Archer Fields were joined by more. There was Autumn Radiata, who had drank tainted water and eaten poisonous plants. Argent Mealanger stood behind her.

“Flying at the speed of light, Thoughts were spinning in my head.”

Theodore Croggstad appeared next, a shoe sticking out of his head. Razor shook his own. He wasn’t really seeing this was he? A short wiry brunette with a serious look on her face took her place beside him; she had been slain by her Arena lover, a situation Razor was glad he had never found himself in. Saskia hadn’t killed him the way Topaz Ross had killed Nash Harvey. Well. Whatever the things around him were, they didn’t seem threatening, even though they stood in a circle around him and were still being joined by more.

“So many things were left unsaid It's hard to let you go.”

The next to fashion themselves a body from the air(or perhaps it was the rain?) was truly beat up. Ghostly gashes were everywhere on this one, it was by the blond hair, and natural dislike that Razor knew this Azulon Cornoli; who was in turn soon joined by Maia Grayson, and Sylvania Legend. The nine apparitions stood around him in chilling silence as if they were waiting for something. There was an empty spot in front of Razor, in between Sylvania and Archer. The mists swirled some more, taking a bit longer this time to form than the others, but Razor knew who it must be. The grinning face of his father completed the circle of deceased inhabitants from district two.

“I know what it takes to move on, I know how it feels to lie.”

“Well done lad. You have succeeded where others have failed in recent years.”The image of his father waved around at the nine forms around him. “It’s clear to me now that you have what it takes. You won’t need me anymore. I’m proud of you son.” Razor found himself smiling in spite of himself. His dad shimmered and faded away. The nine tributes around him nodded or smiled, disappearing in flashes of light or in puffs of smoke and fire as they did so.
The helicopter whirring over head brought Razor back to his senses. It was time to move on. He had proved himself above all his opponents. He had done what many previous district two tributes had failed to do. He had achieved what he had always wanted. Fame and fortune paid for in blood. So why was all he could think about a dead blind girl from district nine?
Razor Creel had become the victor of the 58th Hunger Games. He was alive. He was dead inside.

“All I want to do, Is trade this life for something new, Holding on to what I haven't got.”

He awoke, covered in a sheen of sweat. The blanket stuck to him and he pulled it off hurriedly. He had had the dream again. Once more in the throes of sleep, he had found himself back in the arena over the body of Lethe Turner. There had been a moment when he thought she had killed him, thought that he had felt fire in his gut yet again, but he had been wrong and his axe found her skull.

“Sitting in an empty room, Trying to forget the past.”

Time after that had been a blur; he vaguely remembered having to watch the recap, watching people die from every angle possible. The victory tour was a true blur, and Razor found it odd that he couldn’t remember the events in between Lethe dying and waking up in his room. And it was his room. What a house. The capitol knew how to treat their victors right. The place looked like a damn castle. Windows everywhere, stone. Everything was stone. Leaving his bed, Razor looked down to see a prosthetic foot. That was right. Rather than stick some fake toes onto his injured foot, he had requested they remove the whole thing. Not like his hand. A silver pinky adorned his hand, a small blade concealed inside it.

“This was never meant to last. I wish it wasn't so.”

Making his way over to the bathroom, Razor sighed. He should have never doubted his father. The tattoo on his back had not been a lie. The odds had truly been in his favor. He turned the water on and washed his face. As he turned away, he caught sight of something in the mirror . His father’s face.“Enjoying yourself?” Razor backed away as the face leered at him, and turned the faucet off, but the water wouldn’t stop. It filled the basin and spilled over onto the floor. It rose fast, much quicker than it should have, filling the bathroom with dirty, blood water. Frightened, Razor fumbled with the doorknob, but the door refused to budge.

“What was left when that fire was gone, I thought it felt right but that right was wrong.”

Razor closed his eyes as the water closed over his head. It was then that he realized that he was still in the arena. He opened his eyes in shock, breathing in short quick gasps. Lethe stood in front of him, looking much the worse for wear, her little animal friend on her shoulder. But why was he looking up at her? Looking down, Razor saw yet another knife protruding from his stomach. Why did his arms feel so heavy? Was he dying now? The answer was yes. He had fallen to a frail girl from District five. After he had put one of her eyes out. And now he kneeled in the muck as his last breaths escaped him.

“All caught up in the eye of the storm, and trying to figure out what it's like moving on.”

The hell with that. Mutts hadn't killed him and the elements sure hadn't. Nor had he been betrayed by his alliance. He had made made it farther than any of his predecessors had he not? And now he would die on his feet like a man. Die on his own terms. Though he nearly blacked out from the exertion, Razor got to his feet for what would likely be the last time. It was a struggle to make it over to where Lethe stood, but make it he did, leaning on his now useless sword. His blue eyes met her single green one. It took tremendous effort to speak, but at least he still had the use of his vocal cords. Grasping one of her bloody hands in his, he shook it. The handshake was a universal sign of respect. He hoped the gesture was understood in district five. “ Looks like you were right. I was no match for you.” He coughed, blood bubbling up in his mouth and spraying Lethe.“Remember me Lethe. Please. Remember why I died. Don’t forget the name or face of Razor Creel.”

“And I don't even know what kind of things I said, My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead.”

If there was anything else he wanted to say it was lost to time as Razor Creel slumped forward, his heart unable to pump anymore blood through his veins, his head resting on Lethe’s shoulder, ice-blue eyes to never see again. “So you see? You failed after all, never mind what fantasy your mind concocted.”Razor turned to see his father glaring at him. He looked back, and saw his body resting on Lethe. He was dead. He was dead and his father was still getting on his case.“Go away.” I’m afraid we can’t. You dissapointed me for the last time.” We? To Razor’s horror, the shades of District two tributes past materialized again, and this time they didn’t look so benign. No, this time they looked like they wanted to tear him apart.

“So I'm picking up the pieces, now where to begin, The hardest part of ending is starting again.”

“S-stay back.”He said, putting his hands up to defend himself. It didn’t help. The arena fell away beneath him and became a yawing abyss. The tributes and his father laughed, their features twisting and elongating to unrealistic proportions. They tore at him, threatening to tear strips of his skin off as they did so. Razor screamed.

“This is not the end; this is not the beginning, Just a voice like a riot rocking every revision.”

“STOP.”The voice rang out, clearly feminine. The demonic tributes around him paused in their hi-jinks. And then they began to scream. One by one they exploded into light, until only his father remained.“You can’t take him from me, he’s mine. My son.”Razor watched as his father howled and proceeded to explode into shimmering light as well. The ground was back. Who had saved him? The voice had come from behind him.

“But you listen to the tone and the violent rhythm, Though the words sound steady something empty's within them.”

“Hey there, flower boy, care to join me?” His heart beat faster and he turned to see Saskia. The girl who had taught him how to care for someone other than himself. The girl who had taught him how to love. The girl who right now, shimmered with radiance he could scarce explain. Everything about her was light. Her brown hair glowed, her skin shone, and her eyes. Her eyes were no longer milky, but clear. And the white dress she was clad in was nothing to sneeze at either. To her left was the blond boy from District ten. But was he doing here? "I just wanted to thank you for giving me a chance." The boy said as if reading Razor's mind. "I'll leave you two alone now. Have fun." Razor watched as he faded and then turned to Saskia. She reached a hand towards him and he took it. “Saskia?” “You know, you’re even more handsome than you felt.”“Y-you can see me?” “Of course I can see you. Why should being blind follow me through to the afterlife? Don’t be silly.”He smiled. It was really her, that same wit, that same fire. The emptiness around him shifted again, once more becoming the castle like house in the victor village.

“We say yeah with fists flying up in the air.”

“Do we live here?”“We don’t have to, we can live wherever. Anything is possible here."He looked down to see that his finger was back. It was likely that within the boot he wore, that those digits were back as well. Saskia pushed the door to the house open and he followed her inside. Other people were there, with faces he didn’t recognize.“They’re my family flower boy. And it’s not like we’re the only ones who exist here you know. The whole of Panem, the world even. We can go anywhere we wish. Anyway, it's dinner time!”Razor smiled and kissed his talkative love. Perhaps none of this was real. Perhaps all of it was. Razor was past caring. As he sat down, with saskia on his lap, surrounded by people he had yet to meet, All he knew for certain was that for the first time in his short and pain-filled life, he felt happy.

“Like we're holding onto something that's invisible there.”

So ends the tale of Razor Creel, who has gone on to a place beyond our realm of knowledge. A place to where we cannot yet follow. Rest assured that one day we will experience the same joy as this boy from district two. One day, we too will find a place with no more sorrow, and no more pain. For now I wish him the best, for his story has not ended. It has only begun. Dear reader, thank him for the time the threads of his story interwove with your own. Remember Razor Creel.

[/size]

“Cause we're living at the mercy of the pain and the fear. Until we dead it, forget it let it all disappear.”

Last Edit: Aug 23, 2011 21:10:07 GMT -5 by charade

16 Jul 12, 23:43
GB: I bet you just sit at your computer with a tea cup and a monocle

Rosetta
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hakuna matata {58th hg finale} Aug 24, 2011 18:55:52 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Rosetta on Aug 24, 2011 18:55:52 GMT -5

Lethe Turner

[/center]

Their eyes locked. He said words to her. But, they met the air in a jumble and faded away before she could catch them.

Now, he was gone.

Dead.

And she was crumbling to the ground, pain overwhelming her again, zapping her limbs and weakening her. Mud and bones smacked hard into her, coating her body, and piercing her skin. A groan passed through her lips. Her good eye only saw darkness, some shades of gray, but no specific colors. Blurry. It was blurry. Something was licking her-or maybe it was only the rain...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Lethe, you're eighteen years old now."

Lethe rolled her eyes, still facing away from her mother, her chapped hands dipping back into the basin of water. Her riding pants floated around in there, and Lethe scrubbed them with all her might, but the grass and dirt stains were determined to linger. She scrubbed harder as if that would block out her mother's next words, the words she knew were coming.

"You're an adult, dear," her mother reminded her as if she didn't tell Lethe every single day. Refusing to answer, Lethe focused on the ever depleting suds drifting around her pants. "You know, I heard the McGown's son, Rodrick, had his eye on you."

"He only has his eye on me because he wants to see if I can manage myself," Lethe couldn't help replying flatly. Suddenly, she could feel her mother's proud frown on her back.

"Why would you be unable to manage?"

"Everyone thinks I'm too frail, that my condition makes...different...like I'm a small child." Lethe instantly winced at her word usage. Throwing that it was thought she was like a child would only make her mother repeat her favorite words.

"But, darling, you're a lovely young adult." Aha. There they were. "Oh, Lethe..." Her mother sighed and behind her, Lethe heard her weight shift on the creaky kitchen chair. A moment later, her mother's warm hand was on her shoulder. Lethe looked up at her and found the same green eyes staring back.

Lethe knew her mother was very attractive. A curvy woman with bright eyes, silken hair and an award winning smile, she captivated the attention of many. Though her stomach had fallen prey to endless pregnancies, she was still gorgeous in her mid-life. One would think her daughters might carry the same looks. Well, they did. All except Lethe who remained tiny and pale. Her only striking feature was her eyes, but except for that, she had the attractiveness of a rat.

"I want you to be happy," Lethe’s mother told her, “and look how happy I am with your father. I think-”

“Mom,” Lethe replied, sternly, yanking her pants out of the tub with more force than she intended, splattering herself with water, “I don’t want to get married! Anything, but that!”

Anything, but that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The marketplace was bustling by the time Lethe arrived there with her younger sister, Sarah. People bartered, gossiped, and walked off with their purchases. More than one person had their eyes trained on Lethe, waiting expectantly to see what she would do. She looked away, cheeks burning. Sarah tugged at her hand, pulling her to a display table piled high with colorful fabrics. The woman behind the table smiled at the two, but her eyes flitted across Lethe’s face for a moment too long.

“This is Gigi,” Sarah explained to Lethe loudly as if she were deaf. “She’s the fabric seller. Last week you bought red fabric from her, Lethe. Mom said this week we had to get green. I’ll handle the money, okay?”

It was as if Sarah had stung her. Onlookers exchanged knowing looks to one another, having eavesdropped. Lethe felt her face burning brightly and she turned to Sarah, a forced smile on her lips. The girl was too young to understand shame, but that didn’t stop Lethe from attempting to make her understand. Bending down to Sarah’s level, she spoke through gritted teeth, “That’s okay, Sarah, I can handle the money perfectly. I remember what I bought from Gigi last week too.”

Sarah shook her head, as if scolding a child. “But, mom says that you can’t remember people,” Sarah said, matter-of-factly. “You need help.” And with that, the young girl turned to Gigi and held out the money in her hand. Lethe didn’t bother to correct her. Her irritation was reaching a boiling point, but she knew if she opened her mouth, all that would pour out.

Sometimes, she really hated everyone, hated how they underestimated her.

Sometimes she wished she didn’t have to deal with them at all.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bang.

Covered in an icy sweat, Lethe screamed. “No!” She tried desperately to escape her father’s grasp, but her efforts were fruitless. Her favorite horse was dead, shot. The words said to her, that the horse must be put down, didn’t seem to compute. Her eyes flitted around the stable, to the empty places once filled with horses, but now just replaced with stale air. The oil refineries had made it nearly impossible to keep up with ranches and Lethe knew it too. She watched every day as the stable came more and more into disrepair. The horses slowly disappeared, falling ill, put down…but Susie was the last straw.

Lethe’s breath was catching in her throat. The horse laying before her had to get up. No, she was alive. The trickle of blood on her forehead wasn’t really there. She was imagining it! No. She pushed out of her father’s arms and sprinted from the stable, tears pouring from her eyes, a pit of sorrow in her stomach.

How could she live without Susie?

What was worse than having the only thing that made her happy gone?

What was worse?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anything, but that.

Sometimes she wished she didn’t have to deal with them at all.

What was worse?

The Games.

“Ladies’ first!…Lethe Turner!”

That was her name. She was going into the Games.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lightning flashed, illuminating the white bones around her. Lethe was lying in the mud, having fallen there just moments before. Camalia was licking her face and when Lethe blinked her good eye, the lizard squealed in delight. Was she dead?

But, then, her eye flew to Razor and the breath caught in her throat. No, she wasn’t dead. He was. For a moment, she stared, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Then, it hit: She’d won the Games. Normally, by this point, the Victor would be cheering, jumping up and down, so overcome with relief and joy. But, even if she could cry out with glee, Lethe knew she wouldn’t. Numb horror had replaced the tiny bit of relief in her heart. She’d taken yet another life. Another stain in her soul.

Lethe couldn’t throw up anymore, there was nothing in her stomach. Why wasn’t she happy? She’d won! She was alive! She was going home. She was going to see her family. The truth slowly sunk into her butchered skin, but it didn’t find happiness. In fact, it found fear. It wasn’t the fear that she’d faced in the Arena, the constant fear that she might die. It was a fear of what was to happen next. Now what? Would it all be okay now?

Please, please, let it be okay.

Thump! Lethe gasped, expecting an attack, but it was only a rope ladder hitting the ground beside her. She glanced upward to see the hovercraft. For a moment, she squinted at it (with one eye), not yet trusting it, not yet believing it to be true. But, when it didn’t fade into shadows, remained there even through the lightning, Lethe knew it was real. She’d won.

Staggering to her feet, Lethe held a hand over her empty eye socket, the area that sent the most agony over her face. Maybe they’d give her a new eye. They had to. An exact replica of her other one. Maybe they’d fix up the scars, hide them away…even the ones of her cheeks! Slowly, that numb horror was evaporating into excitement. And, maybe, just maybe, they could actually fix her. Really, fix her. Make it so when she arrived onto the platform in District 5, she would be able to stride right up to the newly recognized woman and say, “I know you. You’re my mother.” And her mother would cry and swell with pride and all of her siblings would congratulate her. Her father would promise to get her a new horse. And everything would be alright. Why?

Because she won.

Lethe was reaching for the ladder when something caught her eye. Silver? For a moment, her heart stopped, but then she saw the tokens that had spilled out of Razor’s bag. Someone would want them back, right? She knelt down and scooped them up, slipping them into her pocket. Then, she saw Razor’s mutilated body.

Once so handsome, the boy had fallen prey to her-to Lethe Turner and her knives. For a moment, she felt bad for him, but then she remembered his taunts and the gleam of glory in his eyes. He didn’t understand what winning meant for her. All she wanted was to return in glory. He’d never understand Lethe’s reasons for wanting to go home.

Her voice was small, but at the same time strong when she spoke, “You know, I had to do it.”

And then, she was gone, gripping the ladder, ready to go home, ready to claim her place as Victor.

END OF 58TH HUNGER GAMES[/size][/color][/blockquote]

Last Edit: Aug 31, 2011 16:49:22 GMT -5 by Rosetta

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!