I have not come for you jewels

Nor for your crown

Sir I have come

To burn your kingdom


Your hands shake, though they are frozen by the frigid air. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest and rings throughout your ears. This is it- this is the end. The end of your life, your hopes, your dreams. The dreams of becoming victor vanish. Instead you're left with fear. Cold, harsh, fear- the kind that starts in your stomach and makes you shiver and shout. The boy has you in is arms, shaking you,

"YOU KILL HER?! YOU KILL THAT LITTLE GIRL?!" He asks, his lower lip quivers.

"No," you answer honestly breathing out the word, but he will never believe you. He's a stubborn boy.


"It wasn't me, it wasn't me," you muffle, afraid he'll torture you, like you did to many others.

"CATO! CATO!" You manage to shout now for your last hope. He'll come right? He has too, he's your ally.

"CLOVE!" His voice is far, but it means he's coming. He's here to save you.

The boy knows it too; terror fills his large brown eyes. He perpetually looks like he's pouting. You smirk momentarily, before realizing that it's his cue. His cue to kill you. You spot the rock in his big hands seconds later. This isn't supposed to be how it happens. First off, you were meant to live, born to survive. Secondly, if you had to die at all it would be proper, not by some child with a rock.

"CATO!" You cry again, even more desperate than the first.

"CLOVE!" Cato replies quickly, much closer now. Your hope rejuvenates.

Then it happens, the rock is lifted in his hand. The boy brings it over his face and shuts his eyes, baby, you think. Goodbye mom, dad, you know they'll never miss you. Sure, they were proud of you accomplishments and were excited when you volunteered, but miss you? Never. They'll simply remain disappointed forever. The rock strikes downwards, crashing into the side of your head. The pain is strong, but only for a moment. You cringe, then relax as you tumble towards the ground. Cato will miss me, are the only words roaming through your mind.

"CLOVE!" He cries, sprinting to your body.

"Cato," you mutter.

"Clove," he says again, now his voice more like a plea.

"I don't want to die," You whisper.

"You won't die. Not here, not in this arena. You're coming home. With me," He tries to smile, but his face twists into a crooked grin. You smile softly then drift into sleep.

three days later

Your cannon hasn't gone off yet. The gamemakers had it ready though, but never fired it.

"CATO!" You scream as you wake up, remembering where you last were, dying at his side. Next to you a figure in the dark jolts.

"Clove," he whispers in awe, sitting up. The dark sky is lit only dimly by the fake stars. Through the blackness you can see his eyes, glowing in the night.

"What the hell?" You look puzzled, contemplating what happened days earlier.

"What's wrong!?" He jumps to your every need, thanking the heavens you survived the blow.

"How am I here?- I mean, what happened?" You croak.

"After he tried to kill you, I came and carried you here. You got us five sponsors," Cato replies softly.

"Did you kill him yet?" You try to jump up, but a sharp pain in your head forces you back onto the ground.

"No," He frowns, ashamed.

"Good. I want to do it myself!" You cackle, rolling over to your back.

"That's my Clove," You smile when he says this. He said my Clove.

I have not come for you jewels

Nor for your crown

Sir I have come

To burn your kingdom


Should I write more? If so, it would continue in this manner with Clove and Cato continuing through the arena.