Clove's Death Part 1

       And then Clove slams into me, knocking me flat on my back, pinning my shoulders to the ground with her knees.  This is it, I think and I hope for Prim's sake it will be fast.  But Clove means to savor the moment.  Even feels she has time.  No doubt Cato is nearby, guarding her, waiting for Thresh and possibly Peeta.
      "Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve?  Still hanging on?" she asks.
      Well, as long as we're talking I'm alive.  "He's out there now.  Hunting Cato,"  I snarl at her.  Then I scream at the top of my lungs.  "Peeta!"
      Clove jams her fist into my windpipe, very effectively cutting off my voice.  But her head's whipping from side to side, and I know for a moment that she's at least considering I'm telling the truth.  since no Peeta appears to save me, she turns back to me.
      "Liar," she says with a grin.  "He's nearly dead.  Cato knows where he cut him.  You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going.  What's in the pretty little backpack?  That medicine for Lover Boy?  Too bad he'll never get it."
      Clove opens her jacket.  It's lined with an impressive array of knives.  she carefully selects an almost dainty-looking number with a cruel, curved blade.  "I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show." 
       I'm struggling now in an effort to unseat her, but it's no use.  She's too heavy and her lock on me too tight. 
       "Forget it, District Twelve.  We're going to kill you.  Just like we did your pathetic little ally...what was her name?  The one who hopped around in the trees?  Rue?  Well, first Rue, then you, and I think we'll just let nature take care of lover boy.  How does that sound?" Clove asks.  Now, where to start?"
        She carelessly wipes away the blood from my wound with her jacket sleeve.  For a moment, she surveys my face, tilting it from side to side as if it's a block of wood and she's deciding exactly what pattern to carve on it.  I attempt to bite her hand, but she grabs the hair on the top of my head, forcing me back to the ground.  "I think..." she almost purrs.  "I think we'll start with your mouth."  I clamp my teeth together as she teasingly traces the outline of my lips with the tip of the blade.
         I won't close my eyes.  The comment about Rue has filled me with fury, enough fury I think to die with some dignity.  As my last act of defiance, I will stare her down for as long as I can see, which will probably not be an extended period of time, but I will stare her down,  I will not cry out, I will die, in my own small way, undefeated.  Look for part 2 soon!