The Statue Inside Me
Family/Friend Reactions of Galla Cinder's Death
by Gingerclaw
[A/N: For those of you who don't remember who these characters are:
Lucas Cinder: Galla's dad; Sally Taylor Cinder: Galla's stepmother; Beth Hannet: Galla's rival who got her voted in; Younde Harris: Galla's only friend; Talon Cinder: Galla's brother; Leah Cinder: Galla's half-sister; Galla Cinder: if you don't know this, you are have reached the wrong number, please read BTTTK and try again later.]
"It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things."
—Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid
Lucas Cinder
Lucas Cinder stared expressionlessly at the screen of the family's outdated television. It was showing a clip of the District 7 male tribute, Jonas Emerson. He was trying to fight huge ferret mutts, and not doing very well. Suddenly, the image on the screen flickered, and Caesar Flickerman's excited voice exclaimed, "Let's leave Mr. Emerson there for a moment and turn to another tribute! Well, would you look at that! Looks like one of our less exciting tributes, Galla Cinder from District 12, is in a spot of trouble with those same ferret muttations!"
Lucas straightened. Sally, in the corner playing with Leah, gasped and called out, "Talon! Get in here! Galla's on!"
Talon had been moping in his room, drinking and rambling to himself since the Games had begun. Lucas was not pleased with his only son. He was not bringing in any money for the family. He only let Talon stay here because the boy had nowhere else to go, but he was reaching the end of his rope. After the Games were over, Talon would have one week before he was kicked out of the house. Unless Galla won. Then they would all live in the currently vacant Victor's Village, the first family in Twelve to do so.
But Lucas knew in his heart of hearts that Galla was a goner. There was no way she could survive. So, in a way, he agreed with Talon. He wanted to hide from the world, to crawl into a hole and pretend none of this ever happened. But Lucas couldn't do that. He had a family to support. He had Sally, his wife, and Leah, his youngest daughter, to think of. He had to become the statue inside him, keep a businesslike and expressionless outlook on life. He had to be strong, the backbone of the family.
After a few moments, the door to Talon's room opened. He was bleary-eyed and clearly drunk, carrying a bottle of alcohol. "Wha'?" he mumbled, his voice slurred. "I don' care! Lemme alone!"
Sally rose from her chair to confront Talon. "Talon Ernest Cinder," she said sternly. "Get into this room right now! Your sister is fighting mutts in the Hunger Games, and you don't even have the decency to cheer her on!"
Talon quailed under his stepmother's stern glare. Reluctantly, he shuffled into the room and flopped down next to his father on the couch. Glaring at the TV, he muttered, "Those some mean ferrets."
Lucas tuned out Flickerman's comments as he watched his oldest daughter fight for her life against the ferret mutts. Her face was terrified as she lashed her arms out at the giant rodents. She didn't stand a chance without a weapon. Lucas hid his face in his hands as one of Flickerman exclaimed, "Oh, my! The muttation has bit our Miss Cinder's arm!"
A scream of pain came from the television as Galla watched in horror as the mutt slowly sank its' teeth into her arm, finally severing it from the rest of her body. Sally was watching with her mouth hanging open, one hand covering Leah's eyes and the other over her heart. Talon dropped the bottle he had been holding. It shattered against the floor, spraying shards of glass and drops of alcohol everywhere. The noise brought Lucas back to reality.
On screen, the ferrets had gone. All that was left in the forest was Galla, the stump of her right arm bleeding profusely. Flickerman's image appeared over it, and Galla's horrified face was shoved into the corner. "Miss Cinder here is quite wounded!" he said cheerfully. "How long do you think she'll last with a wound like that? My bet—one day! Any takers?"
Lucas reached for the remote and switched off the TV. "She'll hold out," he said quietly to his frightened family. "She can make it." But his words were hollow, and he knew that he had not even convinced himself.
The next words to come in the Cinder household were those of Leah, the youngest, still with her mother's hand over her eyes. "Father, when is Galla coming home?"
Sally Taylor Cinder
Sally looked up at her loving husband as he entered the family room the morning after the news that Galla was bleeding her life out on the forest floor in the Arena. "Sleep well, honey?" she asked gently.
"No." There was no surprise there. Sally herself had not got a wink. She was worried sick for her stepdaughter. They had never been particularly close, her and Galla, but she was still family. When Galla and Talon fought, they frequently brought up their mother, Martha Cinder, who was Lucas's wife before Sally. Galla had clearly loved her mother, and Sally felt an inadequate replacement.
The sound of the television being turned on startled Sally back into reality. Flickerman's voice rang throughout the room, recapping what had happened while the citizens of Panem slept. "That's right, friends, the muttations have retreated! Will they make a comeback? I don't know! Only time can tell!"
Lucas stared at the screen, hope in his eyes. Galla had not been mentioned. Was she still alive?
"And now, the night's fatalities! From District 9, Miss Juniper Harris has died when Jonas Emerson of District 7, the mayor's boy, killed her. And the other tributes are glad he did, she was going to poison their water source!" He laughed. "But of course, you all saw that." A flickering image of Juniper's pale white face appeared on the screen. "And now, from the lovely outlying District number 12—"
Sally and Lucas both took a sharp intake of breath. Galla? No! She's alive...it must be her partner, the Drake monster, who's died! It has to be!
"—District number 12, Miss Galla Cinder has died! Her death was quite entertaining! Caused by blood loss, you know, so the hallucinations and whatnot made it exciting. I'm so sad it happened at two in the morning! It would have been better live. Here you go, a video of her last moments! Enjoy!"
The screen cut to an image of Galla sweating and screaming in the forest. The stub of her right arm was caked with dry blood, still bleeding in places. Her leg looked swollen and puffy. Her eyes looked into the distance, shocked and repulsed at whatever it was her hallucination was showing her. She mumbled to herself, apparently talking to a hallucination of Talon. Her words were incomprehensible. Finally, she drew a long, jagged breath, and whispered, "Mother."
Lucas's expression was one of pure horror. Sally was covering her mouth with her hands; her eyes wide open with shock. Tears glistened in her eyes.
The camera zoomed in on Galla's face, twisted in terror. "Mother, Mother, save me. Take me back to Leah. Take me back to Sally and Father and Talon. I need to say sorry..."
She gasped, seeing some unknown horror. "No! NO! NOO! MOTHER, MOTHER SAVE ME!"
She let out one last spasm of horror, screeching, "MOTHER!" Then her eyes glazed over. She was dead.
Sally was crying softly into her husband's shoulder. Lucas's expression was stony.
Galla was gone. She was gone. She wasn't coming back.
Bethany Hannet
Beth leaned over the couch, resting her hand on her father's shoulder. "Da!" she exclaimed. "Isn't that the one we voted in?"
Her father didn't look up from watching the Games. "Yes. Do you feel our feud is settled now? She's dead, after all."
Beth frowned. Was it all over? Her large family was responsible for sending the Cinder girl to her doom. The other Cinders would be out for their blood. Maybe they shouldn't have voted her in. It had only made things worse.
To tell the truth, Beth felt terrible knowing that it was her fault Galla Cinder was dead. She had hated the Cinders. She still did. But no one deserved what the Capitol would give them. No one. She knew that the Cinders had tried to vote her in. She could just as easily been in the Games. If the Cinders were more than five people, she would have been. And would it have made things any better? No. They would be even worse.
"I...I don't think so, Da." She felt sick to her stomach. "Maybe we shouldn't have got her in...did she really deserve it?"
Da looked at her funny. "What are you talking about? It was your idea!"
"Well...yeah...I guess..."
"Hon', why don't you go and take a little walk. All the Peacekeepers are watching the Games, you won't get caught. It'll do you good."
"Yes, Da."
Beth strolled out of the house and into the day. She walked for hours, mulling over her bad decisions in her head. It wasn't until she was right there that Beth realized she had stopped in front of the Cinder's house.
For a moment she just stood there, contemplating how she had so unwittingly arrived at the last place she wanted to be. She turned to leave, if anything, feeling worse. Then she heard a muttered curse, and the sound of a bottle smashing against the ground.
Instinctively, Beth turned her head toward the noise. It was the oldest Cinder kid, Talon. He was outside their little home, vomiting into the bushes. There was a fragmented bottle on the ground. Bits of glass were scattered around the ground, and a sticky liquid was draining out of the partially intact bottle. Apparently, Talon had been drinking, dropped the bottle, and was now stooped over, fumbling with the fragments.
Beth stood frozen in the alleyway. If she moved now, Talon would spot her. If she didn't he would spot her anyway. What was she doing here in the first place? she berated herself. It was a stupid idea to come here!
Talon was still bent over the bottle. The pieces of glass were cutting up his hands, but he was drunk and didn't notice. Beth's mind raced, and she took a nervous step backwards. Her foot brushed against the debris of another liquor bottle, which clinked over the rocks. Her heart pounded as she continued to shuffle backwards.
Talon froze. Just as Beth was about to turn and run away, he lifted his head up and stared right at her. The Hannet girl widened her eyes as the Cinder boy straightened and took a step forward. She was trapped in his gaze. Talon's eyes were dead, black pits that seemed to see straight to her soul, rooting her feet to the ground.
Talon walked up to her. Beth gulped in fear as she realized that he was a full head taller than she was. Usually she had an older brother or two to help her when they got into a fight with someone as big as this. Granted, Talon was skinny as a weed, but he was drunk and had six inches on her. Beth had plenty of experience with drunks. She shuddered at the flashing memory of her oldest brother, Simon, in a drunken rage, and she resisted the urge to rub her cheek where the scars of his fingernails still showed.
"You," he said in a hoarse voice. "You—you're a Hannet." It was not a question. He knew who she was. Beth quaked unnoticeably in her shabby shoes.
"Y-yes," she stammered out.
A light showed at last in the Cinder boy's eyes, but it wasn't a good light. It was the flame of anger. Talon grabbed her with his bloody hand and gripped her shoulder tightly. He leaned down slightly so he could look Beth in the eyes. Then he spat in her face.
Beth stood rigidly through this. The sick feeling in her stomach was not getting any better. She felt Talon's spit slide down her cheek, and couldn't help agreeing with him. Galla's death was her fault—the ferret mutts may have killed her, but Beth had sent the Cinder girl to her death. Beth felt like a murderer.
Talon looked as if he were about to slap her, or something worse. Beth felt real fear tingle in her blood—she believed that Talon would hurt her if he could.
Suddenly, the back door to the Cinder home opened. A woman walked out onto the steps, and gasped as she saw Talon and Beth. "Talon!" she exclaimed.
The spell on Talon was broken. He let go of Beth's shoulder, a murderous look in his eyes. "Sally," he rasped out, "this is—this is the Hannet."
The woman—Sally—widened her eyes. Her voice became very cold as she said, "Young lady, I don't know what you're doing here, but you had best leave before my husband or a Peacekeeper finds you. You should know that you're not welcome." She turned to Talon. "Talon, dear, come in. I know you must be feeling ill, and she's not helping."
Meekly, Talon walked past his stepmother and into the Cinder residence. Sally waited until she seemed sure he was gone, and closed the door, before walking over to Beth.
Beth had at first thought she was saved, but now her fear returned. Had this woman come to finish what Talon had started?
Sally walked over to a rickety old bench and gestured for Beth to sit. Numbly, she obeyed.
"Now, dear," Sally said softly, "come, tell. Why did you come here?"
Beth didn't look up. "You wouldn't understand," she muttered.
"You'd be surprised," the Cinder woman said knowingly. "You need to tell someone or it'll eat you up from the inside out."
Her voice broken, Beth mumbled, "I—Da told me to take a walk. I…walked, and…here I am. I don't know..." She trailed off as Sally nodded.
Kindness in her eyes, the Cinder's stepmother said, "I bet you feel a wreck now, don't you?" Her voice softened as she continued. "I was like you once. Not the same circumstances, it wasn't as much my fault as it is yours, but there was a girl I hated. I wanted her out of my life, out of the picture." There was a pause, then Sally sighed and continued. "Then she fell ill, and died. I felt so guilty, so horrible inside. I didn't say anything. For years I avoided her family, but then one night..." This time it was Sally who trailed off. She looked down and whispered, "One night, her husband found me. He asked me to walk with him. And it went from there."
Beth's eyes widened in realization. She was talking about Galla and Talon's mother. Guilt still showed in her eyes when she lifted her head, and the older woman laid a hand on Beth's shoulder and stared at her.
Something passed between them. Beth knew that even though Sally hated her for sending Galla to the Games, she realized that she felt horrible for it and wanted to be forgiven. Sally was sending her a silent invitation for Beth to redeem herself, if only so Beth didn't have to live with that horrible feeling of guilt for the rest of her life the way she had. Beth intended to act upon Sally's invitation.
Sally stood up and walked back to the door. Before she opened it, she paused. "Beth, dear," she said softly, though Beth had neglected to tell the Cinder woman her name, "I wouldn't be caught around here for a while."
Beth nodded, and Sally walked into the house. She sat there for a long time, reflecting on her actions. The statue inside of her, the person whom she showed to the outside world, was shattered for the moment, revealing her true, broken, self underneath.
She only stood up to go home when dusk fell.
Younde Harris
Younde didn't know Galla as well as people thought. People thought that they were best buds, mostly because neither of them socialized with anyone else. They were wrong. Younde felt like he barely knew Galla. He only hung around her because she understood that sometimes it was better to be alone with someone else than it was to be alone by yourself. Galla and Younde didn't talk, didn't have any feelings for each other, didn't know each other well at all.
But Younde still cried when Galla died.
He only cried for her once, and only in the privacy of his bedroom at night. He did it silently, his face in the pillow, with tears streaming down his face. He couldn't show his face to his family the next morning, and spent all day locked up in his room, the statue that he showed to the world broken while he grieved. No one bothered him. It was a Games day, so there were little customers for his father, the butcher, and Younde was not needed for work. The next day, he came out, his face a mask, the statue intact, and watched the Games some more.
Younde was not a stranger to death, not even from the Games. His oldest sister, Marilyn, died at fifteen from a fatal brush with the Career pack. She lasted only a day, and Younde had been proud for Galla's success to last until day three.
Younde had recovered from his sister's death in only a month. He was hardened to death—many of his cousins had died in mining accidents, and oftentimes children from school would simply fail to show up for class, whether the reason be abuse or illness or starvation. Only Marilyn and Galla had been close to him, however, and he hated the time of year that signaled the Games.
There was always that secret, guilty feeling in Younde's heart whenever he watched the Games from then on. He had been only seven when Marilyn died, there was absolutely nothing he could have done to help her. There was nothing he could have done to help Galla, either, but still he felt as though it was his fault she had died, that he could have volunteered—but no. This was a "Quarter Quell", and Younde was a boy; he would not have been allowed to volunteer for a girl anyways.
But life goes on, and Younde was determined to live through it, and if necessary he would push the past behind him. Galla would remain as she always was in his memory—a shadow.
Talon Cinder
Talon sat in his room with his head in his hands. Three years had passed since Galla had died, and still in the dark of night he wept for her. He lived in a ramshackle excuse-for-a-house in the Seam, all alone, save for the rats and some other vermin that came without invitation. Father had kicked him out of the house soon after the Games were over, and Talon had left without an argument. He deserved it.
He was finally forced to work. He wasn't cut out for the mines in everyone's opinion, so he had tried to get a job as an apprentice to one of the merchants. They had looked at him like he was crazy and chased him out of the shop. After two months of searching, he finally gave up and went to apply for the mines.
He was very cautious at first, remembering his mother's fate. But soon he grew used to the smoky darkness and fell into the rhythm of work. He would never admit it, but work distracted him from the haunting thoughts on the edge of his mind.
He never watched the Games. The Peacekeepers were so lax that they didn't really care. If they caught him, no doubt they would punish him, but he thought himself lucky and went on with it. The reason he never watched them was because, although he had detested them in earlier years, watching Galla be torn apart by mutant ferrets had been too much for him. He never wanted to see something like that again, whether it be someone he knew or not.
Thankfully, no one close to him had been Reaped since Galla. Talon was very grateful—Galla's memory haunted him every day since her death, and he didn't know if he could stand another incident like that.
The last thing he had ever said to his sister was so pathetic, so useless. "But...but Galla...you..."
Disbelief. The Cinders had all known it was coming; somewhere in the depths of our minds they knew that the Hannets hated them just that much. Galla was going to be Reaped. The Hannets had a chance, and they took it. Talon was forever beating himself up for not saying he was sorry for everything he had put Galla through, or for trying to make her feel better, or giving her a token, or—or anything, really. Just...doing something, instead of just opening and closing his mouth in horror like a dying fish.
The years went by slowly, dragged out. By the time Talon was twenty-five, he was stuck in the Seam, with no visible way out. Father had cut off all communications between the Cinder family and his only remaining child by Talon's mother, mostly out of shame that one of his children could be so lazy, so pathetic. Talon understood. Father wanted his new children to have good role models, such as himself and their older sister Leah.
Talon didn't call Leah "the Brat" anymore. She had proved to be a capable little girl. It seemed to him that she had taken Galla's death better than anyone.
While Talon moped in his room after a long, hard day at work, there was a knock on the door. He just sat there, not bothering to answer. If someone wanted to see him badly enough, they would come in. All of his so-called "friends" had deserted him after his bad fortune had caused him not to have enough money to buy beer, and he couldn't think of anyone who would want to contact him.
Still, the knocking continued. He let the person at the door wait for ten full minutes before he grew irritated and got up, prepared to yell at whoever it was who was bugging him.
When he opened the door, he saw a small, petite, brunette girl about three years younger than him standing there with her head down. His eyes widened as he realized who it was.
"May I come in?" Bethany Hannet asked quietly. "I have something to tell you."
Leah Cinder POV
Leah was confused. Galla was gone, she had broken her promise. She said she wouldn't leave, wouldn't go playing with the big, bad Carriers in the Hungry Games. She said she would come back again, but Leah wasn't a silly little girl. She had seen the way Mummy and Father looked at each other when Galla said that. They didn't believe her. Leah wanted to trust Galla, but Mummy and Father obviously didn't.
The Hungry Games frightened Leah. They were too loud, and the man who narrated them was too happy. Mummy usually tried to distract her in the corner, something Leah welcomed. But then the night came when Mummy gasped and grabbed Leah's hand, dragging her to the sofa. Plopping Leah on her lap, Mummy covered her eyes so she couldn't see. But she didn't plug Leah's ears.
"Miss Cinder here is quite wounded...how long do you think she'll last…?"
Then Father's voice: "She'll make it..." But not even Leah believed his words.
Leah was so scared. Tentatively, she asked, "Father, when is Galla coming home?"
No one had an answer for her.
In the years that came, Leah learned what really happened that night. She was exposed to the horrors of the Hunger Games and knew many children who went to death by fault of the Capitol. She was raised resenting the Games, but mostly resenting the world; the cruel, cruel world that had voted her sister in. District Twelve were monsters for choosing Galla out of all people to die in the Games. The Capitol were monsters for holding the Games and killing (mostly) innocent children.
She never did go and watch the videos of the 25th Games. She feared what she might find there—something about Galla that she didn't want to know. Proof her precious sister had become a monster like so many of the other tributes did. Proof that she wasn't the same person that she remembered. Leah remembered what Galla had said the last time she spoke to her: "Leah, I never break my promises. I may have been Reaped, but I'm going to come back to you. I promise that."
Leah still couldn't help but feel betrayed. Most of the time, she just went about her life. She had friends, family, siblings—Mummy and Father had three more children after her: Joshua, Isaac, and Elizabeth—and there was more to the world than the tragedy of the Hunger Games. But still there was the lingering pain, the sense that something was missing.
She loved her younger siblings. Joshua Samuel Cinder, born when she was seven, was a troublemaker—always stirring things up. Mummy and Father often came home from the mines to see the house a mess, everything turned upside-down by Leah's cheeky little brother. Father often blew his fuse at Joshua, but the little boy would continue to pull such stunts. Leah would always gently remind him of his half-brother Talon's fate, with the moral of "Be a good boy or get kicked out of the house."
Isaac Owen Cinder, born when she was nine, had a much milder personality. He was a quiet boy, doing what he was told and following the rules. He was prone to illness, but always recovered before it got too serious. He was a stick-thin, sickly-looking little boy, and was frequently picked on at school. It got so bad once that he refused to go to school for a week. Mummy was worried about him, but Leah missed school to babysit him. The result was that Mummy soon became less worried about her sons and trusted Leah to take care of them. As soon as she got out of school, Father asked her to instead of working in the mines like most nineteen-year-olds, stay home and care for the children in the District. Leah accepted, and began to get paid as a babysitter, called "the Nanny" by the citizens of Twelve. The children called her "Nan". She didn't enjoy the job and always had six or seven kids trailing behind her, but it was preferable to mining.
Elizabeth Cinder, her only sister after the events of the twenty-fifth Games, was born when she was fifteen. This was Sally's last child. She had birthed another child when Leah was twelve, but he had died within hours. Elizabeth's middle name was picked by Leah herself—Galla. Elizabeth Galla Cinder, a constant reminder of the sister she had lost. The memory pained her, but it encouraged her to love her little sister as Galla had loved Leah herself.
When Leah turned twenty-six, she ran into someone she hadn't seen since she was fourteen: her half-brother, Talon. He was, unbelievably to Leah, forty-three years old. Had it really been that long since Leah last saw him? In her mind he was immortalized forever as his twenty-four year old self, when she had last seen him storm out of the Cinder's house after having a horrible fight with Father, reminiscent of the fights he and Galla had thrown before their sister was Reaped.
He had remained healthy his entire life, although he couldn't be described as "happy" for most of that time. They spent a couple of minutes talking before Leah realized that her older brother had changed remarkably in the years since they last met. He had grown older and moderately fatter, and now sported a slight beard. His hair had retained, for the most part, its blackish color (the coal dust he was exposed to every day at work helped with that). He smiled more often, it seemed; but the smile was strained, as if he didn't actually mean it.
The most surprising thing that Leah learned during their conversation was that only a year after Father cut off all communication between Talon and the Cinders, he had married the person everyone thought he was least likely to—Beth Hannet.
A few years after the night Galla died, Beth had visited Leah's brother, coming mostly to apologize. Talon was originally wary and rather angry at Beth for everything she had done, but her apology had seemed so deep, sincere, and full of guilt that he was moved to accept it. Leah remembered a similar event in her life, although it was much less melodramatic. Sally had simply sat down at dinner and said that Beth had come up to her in the market that day and apologized. Leah didn't really believe her, and Father just acted like he couldn't hear, but Sally seemed pretty sure of the Hannet's sincerity and neither of them argued to spare conflict.
"Well, when she came that first time I certainly didn't plan on hooking up with her," Talon said, a crooked half-smile on his face. Leah almost smiled along with him. "Well, Leah, it's a long story; you should come over sometime so you can hear the whole thing…"
"Of course," Leah grinned. She was much happier to see Talon than she had expected. "When would be a good time? I'm still living with Father, so I would have to tell him that I was busy with something else..."
"He lets you live with him?" Talon asked in surprise. Leah understood; he had been kicked out of the house when he was younger than she was now.
"Yes, but unlike you, I'm working, and they need me to babysit Lizzy and Isaac," Leah explained.
Talon's look of confusion further necessitated Leah to agree to come over later that night. She told Father that she was hanging out with her friends. He let her go, probably only because the time she and Talon had agreed on was after he and Sally arrived home from the mines.
She walked into Talon's house in the Seam. The house was small, but as well-kept as could be in District 12. Talon greeted her happily, and then led her into the kitchen, where Beth sat with their youngest child, Geoffrey, age 17. Beth and Leah sized each other up briefly. Beth quickly looked away. Leah still had not forgiven the new Mrs. Cinder for what she had done to Galla.
They chatted for an hour or two, Leah getting caught up on Talon's life. He had become relatively successful; well, as successful as a citizen from 12 could be. He had finally decided to enter the mines, and his life had improved with a job. He had forgiven Beth, who was much kinder than Leah remembered, and eventually fallen in love with and married her. They had had four children, three boys and a girl. The oldest two were married, the girl, second, was expecting a child. The third, had, tragically, died in an explosion his first day in the mines. The family had recovered and was doing perhaps not well, but better than most residents of the Seam.
Leah left that night with a different opinion of many things. It was one of life's quirks, a relationship like Talon and Beth's. One of the few happy endings in life. Leah hoped that she would turn out like that, but in her heart she knew that such an outcome was unlikely.
As she sat on her bed before going to sleep that night, she fingered the object in her pocket that Beth had slipped her as she left. Taking it out, she saw it was a note and a little bit of money.
Dear Leah, the note read.
I hope that you'll forgive me for what I did all those years ago. For years after your sister's death, guilt was eating at me from the inside. I had to apologize, although there wasn't any way I could compensate. Nothing could bring her back to life.
My family does not feel the same way. Da disinherited me when I married Tal. I doubt they will ever stop hating the Cinder families, but Tal and I were made for each other, despite our past. We will forever be sorry for Galla's fate. I don't think I could apologize enough. If it makes you feel better, I think that I will forever be crying the tears of regret for what I have done. However, if things hadn't gone the way they did, I might never have got together with Tal. All may be best in the end, although certainly Galla did not deserve what those mutts did to her and I will never forgive myself for sending her to such an atrocious fate.
Forever regretful,
Bethany Rose Cinder
P.S.
The money is for your father. Tal told me that the first day my siblings and I ganged up on him and your sister, she wanted to buy him a cake. I think it's high time he got that cake.
Leah folded the note and placed under her bed for safekeeping. She smiled sadly. Beth was forgiven, and she was right—Father deserved that cake after having to wait so long to get it.
And as she fell into bed that night, a name flashed into her mind that made her smile. Maybe, if Beth and Talon could fall in love, Leah had a chance at a happy ending too.
Galla Cinder
"There was a Warning on the first page, written in large ink-smudged capitals.
WARNING!
READ THE HERO'S
GUIDE TO DEADLY DRAGONS
AND YOU WILL DIE
'We ALL die,' said Hiccup aloud, '...eventually.'
...and this time he really did laugh. For written on the next page were the words:
WE ALL DIE...EVENTUALLY."
—Cressida Cowell, A Hero's Guide to Deadly Dragons
I once heard that death was but the next adventure. That image of death was interesting to me, and perhaps made me feel that maybe death was okay, or at least not as bad as it seemed. But there is something not altogether right about it, especially since I am quite sure I am dead now.
I mean, everyone dies eventually. But does everyone go to the same afterlife? I was never one for theology, no one in Panem really was, and generally everyone was focused on life and the living. Death was absence. There was nothing after it. But somehow, I couldn't take that as an answer. And even though now that I myself have died, things are still unclear.
I don't know whether I am in heaven or hell. At first it seemed like the latter, with nightmares of my family, my friends, everyone I knew, being torn to pieces by the ferret mutts, tortured, screaming, and me with them, always I was with them, being tortured myself and—
I took a shuddering breath and diverted my thoughts elsewhere.
My death now was not so torturous. I was in a room, a white room. Nothing surrounded me. I don't even know what "me" was—when I looked down, I saw nothing. I had no form or shape, but at the same time, I was. Maybe death was just this, endless nothing. Nothing to do but sit and think.
But thinking brings memory. Memory of my family, who I will never see again, memory of the Arena, which will haunt me forever, memory of everything. Nothing to do but think and contemplate.
I hummed a little tune to distract myself. To my surprise, I felt my lips move. I let out a shout of wonder. I looked down, hopeful—but I saw nothing. So I was, and I could speak, but I had no body? Was that how it worked?
Experimentally, I wiggled my fingers. If I had fingers, I sure felt it, and then when I looked down—fingers! I had fingers!
Now in earnest, I stood up—for I figured I had been sitting earlier—and moved about, exciting every part of the body I apparently had. As I moved about, more and more body parts appeared as they began to be used.
Now satisfied with the body that I had, which was thankfully clean, uninjured, and not in my tribute uniform, I looked around. Was this place just in my imagination or were other people here?
"Hello?" I called out uncertainly.
There was a rustling from far away. I turned my head toward the noise. "Well," said a voice, "you finally figured it out, did you?"
I looked up. "What?'
It was the girl from District Nine, Juniper Harris. I remembered her name easily, mostly because she had the same last name as Younde. Her brown curls bounced on her shoulders as she walked over to me, a scowl on her face.
"Where did you come from?" I asked.
She waved one arm dismissively. "Same place as you, the Arena. Only mutts got you, and Emerson got me."
"Emerson?" I said. "The mayor's kid? From Seven?"
"That's the one," Juniper affirmed.
"Huh. He didn't seem like much of a killer to me."
"In the Arena, we're all killers."
"Even you?" I shot back.
She shuffled her feet guiltily. "Yeah. I was trying to poison the stream when he came along."
"What!" I exclaimed.
"You'd do anything to get back to your family, wouldn't you?" Juniper challenged.
"Well..."
"Exactly."
There was a silence.
"Well," I said finally, "is this it?"
"Is what it?" Juniper said, giving me a funny look.
I waved my arm around, gesturing to the empty nothingness. "This."
"'This' is a very general term," she remarked sarcastically.
"I mean all this nothing, the emptiness. Is this it?"
"Come on—um, what's your name again? I know it started with a G, but..." she trailed off.
"Galla Cinder."
"Come on, Galla. Do you really think this is it?"
"I know literally nothing about this place."
"There you go again with 'this'."
"At least I wasn't using it as a noun this time."
"True." Juniper sighed. "Okay, I'll answer honestly. I only died about twelve hours before you so I have no idea what 'this' is. I would not be the one to ask."
"You're very helpful," I muttered.
"Hey, is it my fault?"
There was another awkward silence. We looked away from each other. Then I said, "Have you seen anyone else here?"
"Yeah. That kid from Five. He showed me the way to the others. He was here when I came."
"You mean died."
Juniper flinched ever so slightly. "Can I at least delude myself for a couple more minutes that I am not, in fact, dead? You think that it's fun knowing that?"
"Look, I don't know what you lived like when you came from, but where I lived in District 12, people died all the time. Once you reached a certain age, you just had to accept that everyone dies, and get over it! I knew I was dead the moment I got Reaped! Don't tell me you were different!" I was shouting now, angry at this girl for no particular reason.
She glared at me. "I came from the Deform, which is the slums, thank you very much. And there was plenty of death there. And at least I held hope, I wasn't a quitter!"
I glared back at her. "I had my own strategy, I wasn't a quitter, I was realistic! I knew I couldn't win, but I knew I could last a while—I lasted longer than you!"
"By less than a day!" Juniper shouted angrily.
I could see that we were at each other's throats now. This wouldn't end well if we kept arguing. I sighed unhappily. "All right, I'm sorry," I apologized begrudgingly. I stuck my hand out to shake hers. "Peace?"
Juniper flinched away from me. "Don't touch me!"
I blinked, startled. "Huh?"
"Sorry...I'm sorry," she muttered. "Just...don't touch me."
"Um, okay," I said, confused but not about to pry.
There was another uncomfortable silence. Juniper broke it this time.
"So...do you want to meet the others?" she asked tentatively, afraid to start another argument. I shared her nervous sentiment.
"The others?"
"The other tributes. Not just from this Games, too. There are some from all the Games."
My eyebrows shot up in interest. "Yes," I said.
"Come on," she said, beckoning with two fingers as she turned away. I followed after her, trodding in the endless white. There didn't even seem to be a ground. We just...were. But at the same time, we weren't. I mean, we were dead, after all.
Eventually, a black blob appeared in the distance. As we drew closer, the blob gradually gained definition and revealed itself to be a cluster of people. Once I was close enough to see faces and other defining features, I recognized a few of them. There was Spurling from Seven, Quillheart from Six, Neve from Eleven, Rossencourte (whose name I am positive I have been pronouncing wrong all this time) from Four, and Estatika from Five. None of them seemed particularly surprised to see me.
There were a few others there that I recognized from last year's Games—that psychopathic kid from Ten, the pyro from One, the chubby one from Six, the lovers from Seven. There were many, many more kids there, some that I vaguely recalled from past Games. Everyone here was a past tribute.
But even though I smiled and waved at the other tributes, I melted into the background the way I normally did. However, there was one problem: black, while being a great camouflage color back home, is not so helpful in this completely white afterlife.
The first person to approach me was a girl I vaguely remembered from both last year's Games and back home, Terry or something. She was about a year or two younger than me.
"Hi," she said conversationally.
I mumbled something in return, not meeting her gaze.
"You're not from the Seam, are you?" she accused, refusing to just go away already.
"No," I admitted. "But are any of us well off, even the merchants?"
Her less-than-friendly gaze told me I had to tread carefully. "Did you know my family?"
"No, I didn't know you, let alone your family. I don't even remember your name."
"Tara Tremain."
"Galla Cinder."
Tremain looked disappointed. "I had hoped you might have some news for me."
"Sorry."
"Okay...I'll just wait for the boy this year to...you know..."
"Die?" I muttered sarcastically. "You know he's a psychopath, right?" I said out loud.
"So was Williams over here," Tremain said, gesturing to where the boy from Ten was. "He's okay once you get to know him, though."
"You have not met Lucian," I warned her darkly. "This is a different type of psychopath altogether. He is a dangerous, bloodthirsty monster. He terrorized the District for months before we voted."
Tremain seemed unconvinced. I just looked at her, silently begging her just to leave me alone. She finally left, but I knew she would just approach Lucian later when he inevitably joined us.
I buried my face in my hands. Now that I was finally, blessedly, alone, the immensity of today's events fell crushing down on me. I rubbed my temples, exhaustion suddenly crashing down on me.
Is it really true that only a couple of weeks ago I was back at home with my family? I wondered. And here I am...dead, in some sort of afterlife with a bunch of people I barely know and many that I hate. And I'm going to be stuck here for all Eternity.
I let out a soft sigh, fighting back tears. How would my family cope with my death? What would happen to Leah and Talon? What about Younde? Everyone else?
Finally, I gave in and let tears run down my face. I was not a crier, not usually. I tried to appear passive and emotionless. But sometimes it just became too much for me. I didn't sob or shake, or let anyone around me realize that I "needed some comfort".
All this pain, the fear, the emptiness around me was overwhelming. I tried to forget that day. I tried so hard to become the statue inside me. I tried to banish emotion, the good along with the bad, to simply relieve myself of this misery. Once I got over the crying, I thought about nothing. Every time some quiet wonder of what was going on in the land of the living, I banished it to the dark corners of my mind.
Of course this was ineffective. It only made the pain worse. Eventually, I opened my eyes. I looked down, and to my surprise, I had no body again. I let out a muffled shout of surprise and sprang to my feet. Immediately, I gained form.
"What the...?" I trailed off, confused. Why did I keep disappearing?
"The longer you stay inactive and the more you want to disappear, you do," a quiet voice said from behind me.
I froze, not daring to turn, not daring to hope. I knew that voice. I had heard it only some hours before, taunting me and stabbing daggers into my heart as I lay dying on the ground of the Arena. But then it had been cold and imperious, not warm and soft as it was now. I hadn't heard that voice that way since...since...
I heard footsteps behind me. My heart beat faster. A soft hand laid itself on my shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to join me so soon," the voice whispered. "You deserved a longer and happier life than you did. But so did everyone else here." There was a sad sigh behind me as the owner of the voice gently spun me around to face her.
I was looking at my feet, hoping that if I didn't look up, this lovely hallucination—so much better than the ones I had in my death throes—would not end.
"Come on, Galla," the voice said teasingly. "Look at me."
Trembling, I looked up.
"Mother," I whispered. It wasn't just a dream. She was really here.
Mother laughed quietly. She had always been a quiet person, a little like me. She spread her arms out, ready to give me a hug. I never hugged anyone, but I was so happy right now, in the little happy moment right now, that I hugged her right back.
And then I was crying again, but this time not because I was lost and alone, but because I had been found.