The End. (a hunger games fan fiction)

*this is an exerpt from the story*
Tears rolled down my face. My voice dead, my mouth still in a wide 'o' from screaming. My ears were ringing, as I grasped for my life. I was going to die. I screamed for my mother, for my best friend. For anyone to answer. And all I got was nothing. As I grasped the air, I could feel my life slipping through my clenched fingers.
*Sorry if it's not as long as you would like. This is going quicker than I expected.*

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3. three

I woke up in a heartbeat. I dreamt something. Something weird. I searched in my mind, trying to grasp whatever was sleft of my unseemly dream. 

After showering and brushing my tangled hair, I pulled some clothes on. I walked down, to the dining compartment. I tried to disappear,  pulling the hood on my sweatshirt tighter and tighter. I fiddled with my fork, hoping this is all a dream. And unfortunately for me, Effie can spot fashion a mile away. And what I was wearing was NOT it.

"Dear, can you please change?" She asked in her ludicrous capitol accent.

"Effie, it's 5 AM. Now is not the time to badger me." I said. I could hear Chase stifling his laughter.

I saw Haymitch start to go after a bottle of alcohol. I threw a peice of toast at his hand, and he dropped the bottle in absolute shock. It fell to the ground, shattering into shards. Effie walked away in disgust at our manners. I smirked.

"What was that for?" Haymitch asked me.

"Well, we need a mentor, your the only living victor, I want to win... so yeah. Put two and two together. " I responded. He scowled at me. I smiled grabbed a fork and started eating. When Effie walked in, I made sure to use the worst manners I could manage. And again, she walked away in complete and absolute disgust. Chase and I started laughing. We were both fifteen, and twins. Only definitely not identical. Chase has our father's Brown hair and light skin, but he still has the gray seam eyes. I on the other hand... well, you already know. Haymitch, still scowling, got up and walked away, probably to his room. I was very bored so I walked to my room, too.

Haymitch had been considering my idea. 

"So, you want to win, huh? Well, I've had many people say that and fail. How do you know that you're different?" He asked, viscously.

"A hope. A dream. A wish. A promise. I have heart, I can hold my own, and I can withstand pain. So please help me win. The only thing you have better to do is drink all day until you become a pile of rubbish." I snapped. And Haymitch agreed to help me.

"Okay, Haymitch, first we have to get you sober. You can't mentor if your entirely drunk." I dictated.

"I'm starting to have second thoughts." He muttered.

"Well, you better believe that I will win." I said. Under my breath, I muttered, "win by keeping chase alive." If I didn't say I wanted to win, he probably wouldn't agree. But what do I care? All I care about is keeping my brother alive.

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