Foxface's Death (Through her eyes)

Foxface's Death (Through her eyes)

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Chapter 1

The berries

I sprinted quickly for the bush, the sun glinting off my red hair. I was quicker than the rest of the tributes. I watched Thresh carefully from my hiding spot, concealed by the patch of vegetation. He stood, tall and gleaming from the sun's rays. My stomach lurched as his gaze connected with mine. I didn't move. I could barely breathe. A smirk played across his face and he covered his face with his hands as if to say, "Go now and I'll pretend I never saw you." I took advantage of this little game and ran, heading away from the grain fields where he dominated. I had no idea why Thresh would let me go, but I was grateful. I scooped up a handful of water from a puddle nearby and sighed; it only made me more hungry. All this hiding, running, evading was finally taking its toll on my body. My ribs could be easily counted and my stomach was rumbling so loudly that it would probably give me away one way or another. I groaned at the pain nipping at my stomach. I watched the sky that night carefully, but there was no new face shining. I counted the tributes left: Katniss, Peeta, me, Cato, Thresh. That's it. I allowed myself a grin. I could really win this thing after all
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The next night was awful and it took all of my strength not to scream out in rage. The anthem ended and I shivered as the briskness of the night formed goosebumps on my pale skin. Thresh's face ended the show. He let me live. I should be dead. I try to shake off the thought, but I can't. So much has been lost already. The sky only makes my hunger-for food and revenge- more apparent. But I am not the one that goes straight for revenge- I have not killed a blessed person in these Games! It is a sick word, really. As the sun beats down on me, I know I need to scavenge quickly. The grass and twigs will not and cannot sustain me. I hear a rustle in the branches nearby and instinctively hide in the bush by my right. Peeta Mellark is humming some song softly and heading for a narrow river flowing nearby. He picks a handful of berries and I see my chance- He would not pick them if they were harmful. Once his back is turned, I grab them, and examine them in the sunlight: a defined, slight shape, the blue-black colored berries look sweet with a deep purple juice. I sigh and stuff them selfishly into my mouth. I don't feel a thing. My eyes widen and I fall to the ground, dead. I hadn't realized in my last moments that I had been nightlocked.

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