N o t h i n g can prepare you for the E N D
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@black-thg-white
N o t h i n g can prepare you for the E N D
“You know how to hunt.”
“Animals.”
“It’s no different, Katniss.”
there are much worse games to play.
The point of my arrow shifts upward. I release the string. And President Coin collapses over the side of the balcony and plunges to the ground. Dead.
t u r n y o u r w e a p o n s t o t h e c a p i t o l .
I hear my name rippling through the hot air, spreading out into the hospital. “Katniss! Katniss Everdeen!” The sounds of pain and grief begin to recede, to be replaced by words of anticipation. From all sides, voices beckon me. I begin to move, clasping the hands extended to me, touching the sound parts of those unable to move their limbs, saying hello, how are you, good to meet you. Nothing of importance, no amazing words of inspiration. But it doesn’t matter. Boggs is right. It’s the sight of me, alive, that is the inspiration.
I'm light-headed with giddiness.
My name is Katniss Everdeen. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games.
I escaped.