The Hunger Games : Rue's Perspective

The Hunger Games from Rue's Perspective from her death to the finale of the 74th games.


1. The Games

Dying isn’t something that you ever believe will happen to you. Not until you’re stood face to face with your killer. Not until there is nothing you can do to save yourself. Knowing that you have to face your imminent death. You see a swift movement, something being thrust in your direction. Then a sharp pain. You get a momentary glimpse of your life, the better life that feels as though it was an infinity ago, your favourite memories; younger siblings, playing in the long grass back in your home district, hearing the mockingjay whistles, symbolising the end of a day’s work in the orchard. Even the grainy, scratchy tesserae bread seems like a luxury. Then the moment is over and you feel nothing. No happiness, no sadness, no pain. Then you start to feel as though you’re floating and no sensation will ever feel as abstract as seeing your own, lifeless body laying limply on the floor. You see the murderer start to walk away, as though nothing had happened. As though an innocent, twelve year old girl had not had her life brought to a brutal end because of them.

You hear a cry, and whip your head around and see your ally. She looks at you, the lifeless you, and her eyes go dark. Your murderer has seen her now and they turn to run away. She’s too quick for them, though and before they can get out of her range, she releases an arrow from her quiver and fires it into his chest.
Then the unexpected happens. You watch The Hunger Games every year, people form alliances, one of the allies dies and the other seems to move on. Not this time. She walks away for a moment and you think it’s happened, that she’d forgotten already, was relieved even. You wait a moment, examining the clone of you on the floor. You wonder why the claw hasn’t fallen to take you away yet. Wondering why you’re not being probed by the Capitol. Wondering why you’re not in a wooden box on the way back to your family. It can only take this long if there’s someone in the proximity of your body, and there can’t be anyone left. Unless the careers came to find their deceased ally. The one your ally killed. But they didn’t, they didn’t come back for their friend. Katniss did. She’s holding something that you can’t see. Not until she puts it around you, and brings herself into a kneeling position. Flowers. She surrounded you with small, white flowers. You are momentarily taken aback by the thought that someone had done that for you. Almost broken the rules of The Hunger Games. For you. You hear a cracking sound, and look up. The claw was coming. She shuffles back a few paces, as to not interfere with the process. You feel a shiver down your spine as you see the other you getting hauled into the air. You watch yourself fly halfway up to the hovercraft, and glance to your side, at your ally. She looks as though she’s trying to hold her composure, whether to seem strong to the sponsors watching, or to try and convince herself to stay strong, I don’t know. Either way, what she does next surprises you. A district 12 symbol. A symbol that means thank you. That means admiration. That means goodbye to somebody that you love. She takes the middle three fingers on her left hand, presses them to her lips, and then holds them up at the air towards you, then walks away. Away from your murderer, still laid on the floor. No-one came back for him. That’s what usually happens in the games.


You decide to go back to your home district, and visit your family. To say goodbye, without saying goodbye. You expect it to be like it is during every games, families standing around the screen in the square, hoping, praying for the survival of friends, friend’s children, anyone from your district. But it isn’t. No-one is paying any attention to the games, despite your district partner being on the screen. There are peacekeepers everywhere, holding back the citizens. Everything seems so loud, people screaming; at the screen, at the peacekeepers, at each other. At themselves. Angry at themselves for not volunteering. For letting a twelve-year old girl go to The Hunger Games. For making face her death too soon. The smell of the fire burning outside the justice building overpowered the normal, homely smell of the district. They were burning the only place from the Capitol within the district. Fighting the people that worked for the Capitol. The people of your District were fighting the Capitol – because the Capitol had implemented the games. The Capitol had sent you to your death. You look over at the screen for a second and see your ally. With a parachute. She unclasps the seal to it, and you see something familiar. Bread. Not the usual tesserae bread, but the real bakery bread from your district. You can see the confusion register on her face as she realises where the bread is from. As she realises that the people who can’t feed themselves have just sent a gift to her in the arena. The people around you still aren’t looking at the screen. They still don’t know that she has received their gift. “Thank you to the people of District Eleven” she says. The people look around at that, but the camera only stays on her for a minute, then goes in search of the Career pack. And then the riots start again, only more intense.

That night you go back to your family home, to be faced with the sight of your parents telling your siblings what had happened, not the gory details, but that you won’t be coming home again, then seeing them have to walk away to console one another. Your siblings don’t seem to understand the reality of what happened. Neither do you. You decide to go and check on the streets, if anyone has given up on the fighting for the night. As you approach the main square, you can smell the smoke again, the justice building is mostly gone, and the fire has started to spread. People are still showing resistance to the peacekeepers, proving they aren’t likely to give up anytime soon.  Proving that they won’t forget about your death anytime soon. You start to turn away, go back to your family when the anthem begins to blare out from the speakers surrounding the screen and tributes faces begin to illuminate your district, and probably the arena. You turn back to the screen just in time for the first of the deceased to appear on the screen.  District 1. Male. Your murderer. Then you. You think of your district partner as the tributes see your face, the proof of your death. You wonder whether he is sad, you wonder if he regrets not helping you train, or helping you run from the cornucopia. You wonder whether he ever considered that it would be you and him going home. You think about your ally. Whether she regrets leaving you to start the fires alone. Whether she regrets starting an alliance with you. Whether she found her district partner after the announcement.


You spend the next few weeks watching over your family. The resistance in the square seems to have died down a little. More forces were sent in from Two, and people resided after that. Everyone still seemed angry, but were too afraid of pain being inflicted upon them to do anything about it. Your family don’t seemed to have gotten over your death any. It seemed for a few days that they were starting to control their emotions. Then they received the wooden box containing your body, and lost all composure again. Too afraid of stepping outside in fear of being questioned by Capitol reporters. They went out once – to go to your burial, to which it seemed almost the entire population of 11 had turned up to. That was three days ago. Your siblings seem to be looking after your parents more at this point, and you want to do nothing more than tell them that they need to start up work again, provide for your 5 younger siblings. That you’re okay. But you can’t. You’re trapped. Alone.


A few weeks later and the games are nearing an end, it’s easy to tell. There was a feast last night, there were only tributes from 4 districts left. 2, 5, 11 and 12. Now there’s only four tributes left. Your district partner died right after the feast. He took his pack. Then Two’s. Your old ally came in then, and so did the girl from Two. She saw Two’s pack missing, and blamed your ally. Nearly killed her. Then your district partner came back. Killed the girl from Two, and spared your ally. Told her that it was because she protected you. And then they took their packs and left. The boy from two came to the cornucopia then, only to be met with no packs left outside, and his district partner laid dead, blood dripping from her temple. He didn’t show any emotions when he saw her, just started running. Running to where none of the players had been to within the arena. None, besides your district partner. Everyone watching had predicted what was going to happen then. Ten minutes passed with nothing. And then the cannon. District 11 were out.


You go and see your district partner’s family, curious to see whether they have reacted in the same way that your family did. They didn’t. You had expected a large family. Parents. Maybe a few younger brothers or sisters. Maybe a few older. But there was only one person there, staring at the TV as though he was still in the game. Must have been his Grandma. And she was alone, showing her grievance sat alone in a cold, three roomed house. You wanted to tell her to see your family, that they understood her grievance. That they could comfort her. But really, they couldn’t. They didn’t understand. Their child was slaughtered, she got respect signs from other districts. Covered in flowers. A rebellion started in their district because of their child. They had someone to go home to. To cry to. What did she get? Her grandchild’s death shown only by someone running in a specific direction, and a cannon? Having to grieve alone? Your family didn’t understand at all.


You miss the games the next day. You spent your day flitting between your family, and your district partner’s Grandma. Two days later, when you see the games again you’ve missed half the day, but from what you can assume, they’re down to the final three. Your ally, her district partner and the boy from two, a career versus two district 12 citizens. The boy from two, the one who killed your district partner, held your ally’s district partner by the throat, only stopped by her firing an arrow into his hand, causing him to fall off the cornucopia. Then the mutts. Then the cannon.

They were the last two, your ally and her partner. They should have won. Together. But there was silence. No-one to take them out of the arena. You hear an announcement telling them that only one can win, and the male starts to tell her to kill him. She silences him. Refuses. Rebels. You see her hand something to him, which they both lift to their mouths. They hold it for a second, hoping for an announcement. Something to tell them that they can both win. Both live. Silence.  They swallow. Then they crumble to the ground. Then you realise, that’s the game over. No tributes survived this year. The 74th annual Hunger Games. The first ever Victorless Games.

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