𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 ❦ The Hunger Games Third Book

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CHAPTER fifty-three| THE STATE OF THINGS

One republic~ start again
❝You see my world is feeling like it just might explode.❞

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DEATH WAS A word that had always been seen as a villain. Death was cruel, it did not have a conscience when it chose who it was that it was going to take from the word and it did not wait until that person had done everything that the wanted to do; death did not feel the need to wait at all. The cruelty of it stripped families away from each other; once the hand of death gripped around someone's throat it would not let go until that person was blue with age or wrinkled to the touch of anyone that cared enough to watch it.

Death was blind -it didn't see race or status or colour or age- it only saw a heart that it could stop, a set of lungs that it could take away and a set of memories that it would erase forever without a shadow of a doubt. It was harsh, cold, unforgiving, relentless, selfish: but it was also so much more than that.

It was sparing. Death could save a life, make it complete again after someone had been stuck for so long in an endless pit of something worse than death- some form of pain that could torture them a lot more than anything death could throw at them. Death could make a family complete, death could save them from someone that was trying to rip them apart because it was also a shield from the harshness of the planet that they had been forced onto. Death was mercy from something worse.

And, to more and more people in a war like this, death was a gift. The rebellion was built with death, it was a honour to die for something that you believed would lead to better things in the end and it was something that had taken thousands of lives already. To the people that were in the small plane with me towards District 2, death was the most they could give and they wanted to give it to people like me or to people like Katniss to see the world light up again. Death cannot be just cruel- it can also be stupidly valuable.

Death was horribly present as the helicopter flew over the mountain that cut the once rich District in half.

From beside me, Remy gripped onto my hand tighter as he watched the fire spread up the mountain and into the air that must of smelt toxic. The night hid our aircraft and the sins that were going on beside one of the entrances to that same mountain, but it did not hide the carnage that had been thrown apon it. I saw now why they pushed me out of my room in 13 to come, this place was so full of death that it overflowed onto the streets around it.

I glanced at the security team around the plane that consisted of a girl and boy I had never seen, a honey blonde with tanned skin and a tattoo of a gun poking out of her bullet proof vest and Finnick. He did not look at me, I did not look at him but we both knew that this was not what we wanted. He looked at the fire too, but he looked at it as if it was the only thing that he was allowed to watch while I was in the same room as him. Then we landed.