chapter twenty-five

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25 ; VICTORIOUS

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25 ; VICTORIOUS

She's awake.

— Effie Trinket

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My eyes are focused on the dead body of my first lover. I'm still holding around the knife that killed Percy and Peeta. The sharp weapon is covered with blood of my friend and my worst enemy. Peeta is a metaphor for trust which has been broken in the worst way possible.

I lean my head down onto his not moving chest and close my eyes when the voice of Seneca Crane fills the entire dark arena.

"And with a pleasure we announce the Victor of the 74th annual Hunger Games, Ophelia Blake!"

I'm angry at the Capitol, the Gamemakers, this sick system of children killing children.. But mostly at myself. I let them all die, I was too late.

"No.. no.." I whimper into Cato's chest before moving up. "No!" I scream out, my voice cracking while tears run down my face. "Our blood is on your hands! Every single death was your wish and choice, Capitol!" I scream out in desperation. My mind switches between the deaths of Rue, Thresh, Percy and Cato.

I clench the knife in my hands in my knife before bringing it up to my throat.

Everything goes black.

I open my eyes but they have to adjust first to the light. Where am I?

My head pounds and my throat hurts, making it Incredible hard to focus on my breathing.

"She's awake."

I immediately recognize the voice, it's Effie. I look around in the white empty room when my eyes finally adjust to the light and see her next to Haymitch.

"Believe me, I never was relieved to see someone alive." Haymitch smiles warmly while Effie takes my hand.

"Where am I? Where's Cato?" I was shocked to hear my own voice. There was almost no tone coming out.

"They saved you, my dearest." Effie was the one to respond with her soft voice.

"What?" I whisper in confusion.

"You don't remember, don't you?" Haymitch asks while he sits down on the white bed I'm laying in. I just shake my head to avoid to speak.

My Mentor then continued, "You slashed your own throat after everything in the arena hit you emotionally."

It wasn't a dream. It was a memory. My right hand goes up to my throat. There was a bandage around my self-inflicted wound to heal faster.

"They needed a Victor for Panem, so they saved you"

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 ━ CATO HADLEY₁Where stories live. Discover now