Голодные игры

           I’mforcedtostopasmybodyconvulses,tryingdesperatelytoriditselfofthepoisonsI’vebeensuckinginduringtheattack.Iwaitforthenexthiss,thenextsignaltobolt.Itdoesn’tcome.Theforceoftheretchinghassqueezedtearsoutofmystingingeyes.Myclothesaredrenchedinsweat.Somehow,throughthesmokeandvomit,Ipickupthescentofsingedhair.Myhandfumblestomybraidandfindsafireballhassearedoffatleastsixinchesofit.Strandsofblackenedhaircrumbleinmyfingers.Istareatthem,fascinatedbythetransformation,whenthehissingregisters.

           Mymusclesreact,onlynotfastenoughthistime.Thefireballcrashesintothegroundatmyside,butnotbeforeitskidsacrossmyrightcalf.Seeingmypantslegonfiresendsmeovertheedge.Itwistandscuttlebackwardonmyhandsandfeet,shrieking,tryingtoremovemyselffromthehorror.WhenIfinallyregainenoughsense,Irollthelegbackandforthontheground,whichstiflestheworstofit.Butthen,withoutthinking,Iripawaytheremainingfabricwithmybarehands.

           Isitontheground,afewyardsfromtheblazesetoffbythefireball.Mycalfisscreaming,myhandscoveredinredwelts.I’mshakingtoohardtomove.IftheGamemakerswanttofinishmeoff,nowisthetime.

           IhearCinna’svoice,carryingimagesofrichfabricandsparklinggems."Katniss,thegirlwhowasonfire."WhatagoodlaughtheGamemakersmustbehavingoverthatone.Perhaps,Cinna’sbeautifulcostumeshaveevenbroughtonthisparticulartortureforme.