Authors Note: This following short response is a creative scene from the book "The Hunger Games" by Suzanne Collins. My main focus in this piece is the use of figurative language.
Here I sit in the tallest tree within the whole forest, a tree that could touch the moon, a tree that can look over the whole world. While I sit on this sturdy branch, I listen if any of the remaining eight tributes left in the game are near, but all I hear is the wind whistling throughout the air; responding that I am completely alone. As I gaze into my thoughts, I find myself drifting into sleep, until shortly after woken by an announcement from the Gamemakers.
“There has been a slight change in the rules. Two tributes can both win if they are from the same district. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor.”
I hastily untied the rope attaching myself to the tree, climbed down, grabbed my things and ran as fast as I could, not knowing where I was going or how I was going to find him, but running as if I were a lion trying to catch my prey; not giving up until I catch it. After running for about 15 minutes, I’ve spotted him. He’s with the careers and looks like he’s scared to death, almost as if they’re going to kill him. I hide behind a bush, being as quiet as a mouse. I watch and listen to them as they plan how they’re going to kill him, so I shoot two arrows through both of them, each aimed right in the center of their hearts, and finally see both of them cease to the ground in immediate death. I sprint as fast as a cheetah towards the love of my life and rescue him from the ropes wrapped throughout his body, setting the one I intend to win the games with free, Peeta Mellark.
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