She was everything to me. And she was lost. She had turned to me a blind eye. I was no longer her friend. I was just an echo of a previous life.
I made my way to District 12, or its ruins. I walked through the town at night, not wanting to let anyone that I was here or about to do. I was born here; I grew up here; I suffered here. And I planned to die here, too.
I pass the center of town. Feeling sentimental, I walk towards it. I remember the day I was whipped, feeling the scars in my back tingle. I sit down, recreating the day in my mind. It's painful, but what is more painful than losing everything that has meaning to you? I'd put myself at the mercy of Thread a million times if it meant being able to have my old life back. But it won't. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths. This will be my last visit here.
Getting up, I walk to where my old home in the Seam was. I sift through the ashes, trying to find something of importance to me. I find, out of all things, my game bag. It has a rip in the side, the edges singed, but otherwise completely intact. It still has the rope I left in it. Perfect. I remove the rope, and tuck it into my jacket. I leave my game bag where I found it. I also find one of the metal cups that belonged to my father. I scoop up some of the ashes. Why it has meaning to me, I'm not sure. My life is meaningless now. I have one final task. And I plan to carry this one out.
I take my time leaving. Time is no longer a problem. As long as I'm in the woods by daybreak, I should be fine. Still holding my cup of ashes, I walk past the other ruined structures of the Seam. So many people died in these houses. Do I wish I was one of them? I decide not. I want to die at only the hands of myself. I want to die willingly. When hope is lost. Not when I thought I really had a chance in the world. Now that my life is just as bad as one of the houses here do I accept death as a friend, not fiend.
I slip under the fence in the woods. Naturally, I keep my pace quiet; my last deed shouldn't mean disturbing the animals that live here. I've already ruined so many people. I trek around the woods, stopping here and there to savor a memory. I reach the rock. I sit on the center of it, running my fingers over its smooth surface. It would be perfect. This moment. If I was able to enjoy it.
I look up, and see a tree branch jutting a few feet above and away from the rock. I take the rope out of my pocket. Rubbing some of the ashes from the cup in between my hands, I tie a simple knot; the knot of a noose. Standing on the rock, I fasten the noose onto the tree branch. Ironically, it's a willow.
I pour the rest of the ashes onto the ground. The wind picks some of them up, leaving a small black cloud around my feet. The first lights of the morning are starting to show. I walk to the lake, cup in my hands. I dip the cup in the water, rinsing out the ashes. Once more I do this before filling the cup and walking back to my hanging tree. I sit back on the rock, placing the cup next to me. I sit until the sun is up, the sky a furious orange. I stand, grabbing the cup.
Raising the cup to the sky, as if making a toast, I say, "You win. My life is over, my mind is in chaos. Thanks for letting me try." I drink, the cool water sliding down my throat. I step onto the rock, and fix the noose so that it's in the right position. Just as I'm about to step off the rock, ultimately ending my life, a figure appears.
"Gale?"