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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 31, 2014

    Spear's Dance: Part One

    The ghost girl that was once me tries to stomp on a flower, but falls to her knees in the soft fields of the district. This is where she will find what she needs, find out why Thresh was influenced to kill me. Having traveled far from my old home in District 2, the ghost desperately needs food, water, and rest. Her stomach growls in response. I got this feeling a lot, when Cato would steal my dinner while I was forced to thoroughly wash my hands. Stone mining had worn her hands to bloody meat. And it was all worse then. <p>
    5 YEARS AGO... <p>
    Flickering light twirls through my vision as I take in the pain. The 11-year-old boy is standing over me, muscular and fierce, grabbing the shaft of his spear with a grip of stone. The spear has entered my shoulder and blood spills over my jacket. This is a minor injury for Career Training. Once, this monstrous boy cut a deep gash in my head and knocked me unconcious for a week. This is only the beginning of what it will be like as the Games draw near. <br>
    I catch the sillhouette of a man in my blurred vision. "Clove, you aren't blocking. Let's say Cato was going to stab you in the heart. What do you do?" The man says carelessly. Cato raises his spear, a straight, quick swing away from rupturing my heart. I put my hands over my chest and, quick as I can with my injured shoulder, roll away. He narrowly misses a fatal kill and stabs my shoulder blade. I hear a sickening crunch. <p>
    I can't see anything but flashes of red. Moaning, I cradle my arm in the other. Cato laughs. "Shake it off, shrimp." He tugs my arm until it hangs loosely by my side. "All better." I start to roll my shoulder to find I don't even know where my shoulder is. The bone hangs somewhere around my prominent ribs, hanging by layers of fragile skin. I feel my arm. The shoulder blade seems to be shattered, and the socket is empty. "You flimsy scum-of-a-girl," the man rasps in an unrecognizingly cruel voice that sends pain shooting through every injury I have. "The Games have begun, and you won't survive a day with Cato." I shudder. Me and Cato are tributes.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 28, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

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