A Hunger Games fan fiction (I know it's a bit late!) about what happens in the games run by the districts for the capitol children as revenge for the Hunger Games. Please tell me what you think!!!


7. A Scarlet Dream

 Shaking violently, I take a step back. Red. So much red. Too much red. The word pounds on the inside of my head like a rampaging animal trying to escape. Red. The red of the curtains, of my face, of my dress, of the walls and the deep velvety red of the blood soon to be spilt. Cold, scarlet blood. Drip, drip, dri-. Blood. Katniss's blood. Red.


 I take another step back, I can feel a trembling in the air, the booing of the enraged crowd. Manky bits of half-eaten food are hurled in my direction- orange peel, popcorn boxes, tomatoes. Red tomatos. Snap out of it! I think, only I don't think it. I can't have. Simply because there is no room in my head for words. My head is a blurred mixture of sweat, blood and tears. And red.


 In fact it wasn't the booing, the food being flung or even the mighty punch from Katniss that clears the red. It is the picture on the screen. It floods my mind like it is the only thing left in existence. Me. Only I don't see me. I see my worst enemy. I see my grandfather.


  I can just make out a voice, it makes the screen ripple, pixilate. "That all you got Snow?" The red mist clears. Vroom. It was the strangest experience- like coming out of a darkened tunnel. This can't be happening! Katniss is towering over me brandishing a bloodied knife. Bloodied like her nose, and her lip appeared to match the same colour of a plum. Trembling, I feel the lump on my head. This simply can't be happening. It CAN'T!!! What was Katniss, the winner of the 74th Hunger Games doing looming over me weilding a bloodstained knife? And where am I?


 "Well?" The sound is so overwhelmingly deep and I can feel it ripple through my quivering body. She's going to kill me... I can just make out another voice before I black out, a higher voice. "Oh, oopsie daisy! I do think she's going to faint! Do put that thing down and call a doctor now dearie, what was your name again?" Petra Marfleet squints innocently at Katniss. "Move it!" Katniss growled back. It was like being in a pressurised bottle, waiting for it to blow. Millions of faces waited. Watched. Petra wandered closer. I could hear Katniss growl like a motor engine  firing up. A bad taste fills my mouth. "Pardon you!" Petra cooed, peering over me with a worried expression on her face.


 "Now," She continued, "Do call the doctor. She looks awfully pa-."


 In fact, I just had time to watch Katniss plunge the knife into Petra's back before I blacked out. And I prayed. Prayed it was just a red, blurry dream.


 Or was it a scarlet nightmare?

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