I watch, my face twisted in an unimaginable expression as I watch my son getting his head get cleanly cut off my by the girl from district ten. The cannon booms. My lovely son, Iron. With his good looks, cheeky smile, intelligence, good heart. Is gone. I craddle my wife close as she lets out a blood-curdling scream. He's gone. I guess district two will go a third year without a victor. It's the third year into the games and we still haven't had a victor. I really thought Iron would come home to us. He's strong and determind. He's charming, he had loads of sponsors apparently. He lasted so long. He place third overall. I still can't believe it, he's gone.
I let out a small, smile as I see the district ten girl getting stabbed in the neck by Iron's ally, Glitz from District One. He's won. Better him than that creature from ten. Better Iron than him though.
"Babe, she didn't win. Iron's ally killed her, he won" I whisper soothingly in her ear.
Surprising, she bursts into floods of tears.
"But he's just a kid. They're all just kids. They shouldn't have to kill. Have blood on their hands. What hope do they have, they have no training. What are they supposed to do? What sort of sicko finds this amusing? To watch children fight to the death? Watching my son? Our son?" she crumples into a ball on the carpet.
I pick her up and put her to bed. She's hysterical. She reacted the same when our other son, Rock, died in the games last year. At least she still had Iron then. We had Iron. Now we have no-one but each other.
I sit in my study alone and think carefully about my wife's words. How can I help these kids? They need to train so they are prepared! They need training. They need to train together though, to unite. A lightbublb burns bright in my brain, as I pick up my pen and begin to write.
A/N hey! This is my new story Training and it is about how District two got a training centre and how they aren't just bloodthirsty careers. They are still children with hearts. Enjoy! Also check out my other stories! Thanks! xxx