All Characters belong to Suzanne Collins ©

So I'm supposed to be doing homework. But this drabble/one shot has been annoying me for a while. And it's Katniss' birthday today so I thought I'd might as well write it. I've written another drabble/oneshot about Snow's end of you want to read it.

Prim's end depresses me. Goodbye little duck~


I am not like my sister in many ways. I'm sure that if I lived in the forest I'd be no help at all. The plants that save. Those that kill. Those that I can eat. All of them are categorised in my brain. I wouldn't be able to kill anyone. I can't shoot and arrow or throw a punch. Can't reach many people's faces to do so. I don't even think I'd be able to give anyone poison. Or, at least; I wouldn't be able to watch them die.

I'd carry the blame all my life if I did such a thing. I'm weak like that.

But you're strong. Killing affects us both the same way, but you can hide it. I envy you for your strength, Katniss. My ability to help is nothing if I'm not strong. Not with the sort of strength that Thresh had, but the will to do things that change the world.

And you're changing the world as we know it. You have that gift.

You went to the Capitol to kill Snow. We were worried about you. We honestly thought that you were dead. But the television had lied to us before. So we dared to hope. I'd been sitting with Mother, but she was called away to work on the rebels that had just been carried in. She told me to wait where I was. I sort of laughed at her, joking that Buttercup would keep me safe. Mother had smiled and walked away.

And then Alma Coin was standing in front of me in a panic. She told me that they didn't have enough medics working in the Capitol. That she needed a few more to help the rebels.

You know what I did. I volunteered. I rarely get the chance to do that.

Sitting in a hovercraft has a strange quality to it. You're floating and jerking about in air. You're flying. I wish I could fly. You could try, Katniss. It would be fun to watch. If you fly away from Panem and our troubles, remember to take me with you though. I don't want to live without you, sister.

If I fly though, you must stay. You have people that care. We both do. But they need you more than I. You're the Mockingjay. I'm the Mockingjay's little sister. I'm the duck.

I smile at nothing in particular. I love you, Katniss; you know that, right?

We've landed now and adrenaline rushes through my veins. We need to help. We medics are needed right now. People may die without us. Can't keep them waiting.

I don't see you at first, I see the injured. They're everywhere. It disgusts me. I can't kill, but I can hate. I hate the Capitol. I hate that they've led us to believe that the parachutes meant good, only to give them to children younger than I. That they've brought the five year old I'm kneeling over to within an inch of his life. I give him my jacket and check his pulse.

Thank goodness he's still breathing. But his breaths are coming short and fast. I don't know where to start. Mother told me to clear the airways first, but the burns covering his skin mean that I can't move him without causing him more pain. I look around and almost smile as I remember the snow. But I can't smile because I see the red splurges, smearing the once peaceful blanket of white with horror.

Is that someone's hand?

I refuse to listen to the perverse voice in my mind that tells me to hold it. You do that for people who are dying, you comfort them by holding their hand and stroking their face. But the tiny finger haven't a life to grasp onto. It hasn't a body for me to comfort.

I remember the snow and choose the cleanest pile I find to cover the boy's skin. It sizzles. I look around once more, to see if I need to get out the way for others. People are swarming. Like bees. I'm scared. Not so much for me. But for the bodies lying on the ground. They'll be trampled. And you, Katniss. I'm always afraid for you. Since the day you volunteered for me and long before then. I don't want to lose you, my sister, the girl on fire.

Everything is happening so fast. I think I only landed next to the boy about forty seconds ago. I'm twitching which makes me take in things faster than usual. I scan my surroundings and I see you. You're wearing strange clothing. Brightly coloured and a hood pulled over your lovely dark hair. But I know it's you. I try to smile. I want to show you that I'm all right. That I'm glad that you're all right.

There is a flash of light as I feel the flames lick up my skin. Around my arms and legs. Grating them raw. Everything is white and I can't see. I can't even see the white. I can't hear anything either. It's too loud for me to hear anything. I'm covered in a blanket of fire and for a single moment I wonder if this is what it's like to die. But I'm not completely gone yet. My mind is still speaking to me.

I'm having a conversation in my head that no one will ever hear. I pretend that you can hear me and the last image I saw is of you. I hold it with my soul and try to make you hear what I think.

I love you, Katniss. You're good for this world. You're absolutely mad. And nearly always grumpy. But you're a good person. Please don't blame yourself for my death. You probably will; I know you well enough to know that. But I don't want you to live your life with guilt. I'm not scared and neither should you be.

It hurts.

So love Peeta. He's good for you. As much as I love Gale, he's just as grumpy as you; anyone can see that. Burn the bread with Peeta and have children. They'll be safe from the games, I know it. You'll stop them. Don't do anything hasty. People won't always let your medical bracelet be a reason for your comments. They'll blame you at one point. You've been through a lot. But be nice, okay? Be nice to everyone. Look after Mother. Look after Peeta. He loves you, I know that.

It burns.

I said I couldn't kill anyone, but the Capitol will burn, won't it? That's what you said. I'm burning and so will they. I think my mind's little chat is ending now. I didn't think it would last that long anyway. I'll miss you darling, Mockingjay.

The parachutes went off.


...Are you alright? I'm not. I miss Prim. :3

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-Oujdagirl