Every other tribute faced the same death; Rue, Glimmer, Foxface, Thresh, Clove, Cato, Marvel, etc. At the end after being attacked by mutts and the death of Cato, the rule that two tributes can win was revoked. This is what happened....
As I stoop to pick it up, Claudius Templesmith's voice booms into the arena.
Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed, "he says. "Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."
There's a small burst of static and then nothing more. I stare at Peeta in fake disbelief. I hope he would relize that they never intended to let us both live. This has been devised by the Gamemakers to guarentee the most dramatic showdown in history. But I wasn't a fool, and I didn't buy it. And unknown to both the Gamemakers and Peeta I had a trick up my sleeve.
"If you think about it it's not that surprising," he said softly. No duh I muttered, mentally rolling my eyes. I watched as he painfully makes it to his feet. Then moving toward me, as if in slow motion, his hand pulling the knive from his belt--
I pretend that I am not aware of my actions and quickly drop my bow and the last arrow onto the ground. I hear a splash and see the knife has already left his hand slowly sinking in the lake.
I know Peeta is too much of a wuss to take me on and I knew in his state especially that I would easily beat him. I knew the Gamemakers could only have one victor, and that's exactlly what they are going to get.
My fingers fumble with the pouch on my belt, freeing it. Peeta sees it and his hands clamp on my wrist. "No, I won't let you."
"Trust me," I whisper. He holds my gaze for a long moment then lets me go. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour a few spoonfus of berries into his palm. then I fill my own, however I had no intention what so ever to eat them. "On the count of three?"
Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. "The count of three," he says.
We stand our backs pressed together, our empty hands locked tight.
"Hold them out. I want everyone to see," he says.
I spread out my fingers, and the dark berries glisten in the sun. I give Peeta's hand one last squeeze as a signal, as a good-bye, and we begin counting. "One." I'll miss him. "Two." But I want to go home, to see Prim, Gale, and my mother again. "Three!" We both put our hands to our faces, I can tell Peeta is eating his, but I shut my fist, at the last second.I can feel tears falling down my face and I whisper, "I'm sorry Peeta, I'm so sorry." He looks at me confused, and with that I open my hand and watch as each berry falls out of my hand and hits the ground. "Forgive me," I whisper tearfully. He looks at me and nods, "I forgive you," he whispers.
And suddenly his grip on my hand loostens and his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he falls to the ground with a thud.