My mind drifts off, remembering everything that has happened within the previous weeks: the Reaping and how a twelve year old girl was chosen. How I couldnt stop the words I volunteer from escaping my lips when I saw the waterfalls pouring out(p) of her eyes. How she looked me directly in the eyes and hardly asked me why. How I responded with Because this shouldnt be allowed to happen. How she hugged me tight, refusing to let go fifty-fifty when the Peacekeepers yanked her away. How Cord and I left our friends and families, our lives behind in District 8. How we both already knew we were going to die. How no one evaluate anything of us, including ourselves. How, five days into the Games, I watched the life drain out of Cord. How I hunted down the boy from District 4 and killed him. How I cried over his death, Cords death, everyones death. How I stumbled through the mountains and twisted my ankle. How a small silver stick out floated down from the monger with ice. How I realized there was simply four people left. How the girl from District 9 found me and tried to decapitate me.
How I managed to throw a poke at her throat. How she died. How there was only three. How later that night the sky told me there was only two. How I allowed myself to dream of home for the prime(prenominal) time since the Games began.
I snap myself back to reality. This is it, I think. at once Ill go home.
I can see the rays of aurora light filtering through the dense fog; I install out one deep sigh and pack up what little supplies I have left. Forcing myself to put weight on my ankle, I leave my shelter of trees. As I yard out from the forest, my ears are jolted by the screams. I cut down my head to the right and see the boy from District 1 is caterpillar tread; its obvious that hes been running for a long time by the...If you want to dismay a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com
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