Fantasy Audiobook Introduction: English, Standard British Dialect
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
British (England - Cockney, Estuary, East End) British (General) British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
the Hunger Games. Chapter eight. As I stride toward the elevator, I fling my boat to one side and my quiver to the other. I brushed past the gaping at boxes who guard the elevators and hit the number 12 button with my fist. The door slides together and I zip upward. I actually make it back to my floor before the tears start running down my cheeks. I can hear the others calling me from the sitting room, but I fly down the hall into my room, bolt the door and fling myself onto my bed. Then I really began to sob. Now I've done it. Now I've ruined everything. If I stood even a ghost of a chance, it vanished when I sent that arrow flying at the game makers. What will they do to me now? Arrest me, Execute me, cut my tongue and turn me into a new box so I can wait on the future tributes of PanAm. What was I thinking? Shooting at the game makers? Of course I wasn't. I was shooting at that apple because I was so angry at being ignored. I wasn't trying to kill one of them. If I were, they'd be dead. What does it matter? It's not like I was going to win the games anyway. Who cares what they do to me? What really scares me is what they might do to my mother and prim. How my family might suffer now because of my impulsiveness. Will they take their few belongings or send my mother to prison and prim to the community home or kill them? They wouldn't kill them, would they? Why not? What do they care? I should have stayed and apologised or laughed like it was a big joke. Then maybe I would have found some leniency. But instead I stalked out of the place in the most disrespectful manner possible. Hey, Mitch and Effie are knocking on my door. I shout for them to go away, and eventually they do. It takes at least an hour for me to cry myself out. Then I just lie called up on my bed, stroking the silken sheets, watching the sunset over the artificial candy capital