"Aaaugh!" He kicks again against her, this time harder, grabbing her wrist and trying to break her hold on his neck. Hot blood is dribbling down his neck, down his face, mingling with her saliva and his tears. He shrieks and squirms and feels her claws digging into his skinny chest. "Stop, stop! Eponine, it's me, I'm your friend, Eponine...!"
This has to be a nightmare. He's going to wake up soon, tangled in his bedsheets, covered in sweat and not blood, and he'll go downstairs to where Eponine's taken over his District 1 room, and she'll have her normal fingernails that the stylists have painted pink-
He twists around and gets out from under her. They're side by side. Her arms are still pulling at him, her mouth still biting. There's a flap like a wet piece of paper against his jaw; she has a strip of skin from his cheek stuck in her teeth, he realizes, even though he can't see it in the dark. His stomach turns. He kicks and shoves again, dragging her with him as he gets up and staggers to the window, slamming his elbow against it to smash the glass in.
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This has to be a nightmare. He's going to wake up soon, tangled in his bedsheets, covered in sweat and not blood, and he'll go downstairs to where Eponine's taken over his District 1 room, and she'll have her normal fingernails that the stylists have painted pink-
He twists around and gets out from under her. They're side by side. Her arms are still pulling at him, her mouth still biting. There's a flap like a wet piece of paper against his jaw; she has a strip of skin from his cheek stuck in her teeth, he realizes, even though he can't see it in the dark. His stomach turns. He kicks and shoves again, dragging her with him as he gets up and staggers to the window, slamming his elbow against it to smash the glass in.