Waking Up
My time in the arena until this point is a blur to me. I still remember the feeling of driving my spear into Ismene, and watching the last remnants of life drain out from her. The first night was by far the worst. I rocked in place, a wild look in my eye the likes of which hinted at lunacy. After that I was mostly in a daze, staring off into space, vaguely aware of what was happening. I am so thankful to Verma. He guided me along, prompting me to move and follow around our alliance.
But now I am awake.
Something about seeing Barton's face in the sky drew me out of the darkness. As I stared up at him, remembering the gentle boy who was so kind to me on my first night in the Capitol, I felt a breath of life within me. I inhaled sharply, looking down to the hand on my shoulder. Verma. I stared at him in the dim light, and for the first time since the ball a weak smile came to my lips. "Rest in peace, Barton." My first words in the arena.
