A/N
Before you start reading, there are important stuff to be said!
This SYOT has become a collaboration with fellow fanfiction author InkblotsOnThePage. I'm still the main author, however she will be helping me out with the story and we WILL be writing a sequel together! YAY excitement!
She will be writing some chapters as well, mainly stuff to do with the Gamemakers since she owns them. I'll let you all know when a chapter is not written by me. She's a great writer so this story will still be in good hands (even better hands now if anything)
ANYWAY, sorry for the long wait (college and fanfiction are not a good mix. Take note.) and enjoy!
Eve Summers/Ivana Winter POV
"Summers! Come on, you're on watering duty today!"
I sigh as I make my way over to the orchards of District 11, where every person over the age of 10 is required to work. The leader of the job (aka the head peacekeeper) shoves me slightly towards the plants in need of watering as I pass by, not even a hint of a smile or any form of kindness on his face. Yeah, the peacekeepers here are real cheery. We don't even get reaping day off here.
I bet he would smile a little more if we threatened him a little. Or tortured him. Imagine watching him squirm while we inflict all that pain onto him.
I flinch at the sudden and intrusive thoughts, rubbing at my temples in an attempt to suppress them. I always suppress thoughts like these, because they aren't truly mine.
They're Ivana's.
Ivana is like my alter ego, my alternate personality. I'm not quite sure what to call her, really, but she isn't me. I can never remember anything that happens when she takes over. It feels like waking up in the morning only standing up, and usually facing various degrees of destruction that she caused. Two people in one body. It's madness.
Which is why I've only ever told one person.
Suddenly, I feel arms wrapping tightly around my waist from behind.
"Hello, my love."
I jump at the sound of my boyfriend's voice, yanking myself out of his grasp with an incredible force that can only mean one thing.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Do you want me to stab you? I will do it!" I scream at the top of my lungs.
My boyfriend, Jeremy, visibly pales at my tone.
"Eve, calm down. It's just –"
"Eve. Eve. Why is it always about her? WHY?"
Jeremy corrects himself, realizing his mistake.
"I'm sorry, I always confuse you two. Ivana. I was trying to apologize for sneaking up on you"
I can feel my consciousness fading away with his kindness. Kindness is something I don't understand, and never will. Kindness has always been Eve's specialty.
Jeremy is staring down at me, his face looking panicked and concerned. His face always looks that way when Ivana takes over.
"Oh my god, Jeremy, I'm – I'm so sorry! What did she do? Did I hurt anyone?"
I'm never quite sure whether to refer to her as me or as a third party.
I can feel the panic closing in on me, my breathing becoming quick and gasping.
"Eve! Eve, it's okay! Nothing happened, I just startled you and Ivana stepped in to defend. It's completely fine! Relax.."
I close my eyes, willing myself to relax. Jeremy pulls me into a tight hug.
Ivana was not always present.
It started three years ago, when I was thirteen. I lived with my parents and younger sister, eleven-year-old Sue, at the time. I was already dating Jeremy, and for a while everything seemed perfect. I was happy, despite the poverty of my family and the harshness of the district peacekeepers.
That all changed on that one fateful night.
I had spent the night at Jeremy's for the first time, something my parents were not happy about. We had argued, I had vented to Jeremy, and in the end I won. We kept it clean, of course. Just a sleepover between a thirteen-year-old girl and her 16-year-old boyfriend, nothing more. It was one of the happiest, most fun nights of my life.
The next morning ruined everything. Jeremy and I had woken up to the news that my entire family had been murdered throughout the night by an unknown culprit. I'd cried for hours in Jeremy's arms. Nothing would ever be the same again.
And thus, Ivana was born.
She made her first appearance three days later, at their funeral. The ceremony was taking place in the orchard, a less-than-grand affair where everyone was simply eager to go home – myself included. As the speaker went on and on about the "terrible loss", the voice of a man standing behind me caught my attention.
"Good riddance. He was the slowest, weakest worker in the orchard! At least now he won't be in anyone's way."
He was talking about my father. The comment enraged me to the point of no return. How dare he?! My father suffered from asthma, of course he had a hard time in the fields!
Suddenly, the strangest sensation came over me. I could feel myself fading away, almost falling asleep, and assumed I was passing out.
I woke up to find things were very different.
The man was a bloody mess on the floor, peacekeepers were restraining me from every angle, and the funeral was abruptly ended. I was spared, and my behavior was attributed to "insane grief".
After several of these incidents, Jeremy was the one to piece it all together, asking me my name during one of them. I'd apparently responded with Ivana, finally revealing my alternate personality completely.
She's stuck by me ever since.
Jeremy pulls away from me, his eyes still full of concern.
"You sure you're okay?"
I nod my head yes, my breathing finally under control. Everything is fine, nobody got hurt.
One more relatively harmless incident out of the way.
Poseidon Cleric POV
Three laps done, seven more to go. I can feel the eyes of the field workers on me, some annoyed and others (mainly female) admiring. I ignore them all, determined not to break my focus and finish the ten laps I came out here to do.
I do this pretty much every morning – have been since the age of nine. Ever since my parents finally told me the story behind my name.
My father won the 79th Games when he was 18 years old. He was strong from eight years of working in the orchards, but much of his survival came with the help of his ally. Juniper Forbes, seventeen years old from District 4. She'd volunteered to take the place of a twelve-year-old who had been reaped, beating the other Career-style girls to the stage. She had no interest whatsoever in joining the Careers – in fact, she volunteered to spite them, angering girls who had been training for years in vain. She quickly befriended my father during training and were allies up until the final 5, where she was killed by her district partner; the one remaining Career, who my father conquered in the final battle.
Ever since then, my parents (who were already dating at the time) have shared a love for the district of the sea. They named me after the Greek god of the ocean, knowing that I would grow up to be as wise and caring as Juniper was.
The day they told me that story was the day I began my daily workouts. I need to live up to my name, for my parents and for my father's fallen ally of District 4.
Five laps done, five more to go. Almost there.
My family is fairly rich, as you might imagine. My father has accumulated a fortune from his earnings of the Games, which Is why none of us have to work in the fields (although my brother and I still have to go to school). My brother is fifteen. His name is Carlos, but everyone around the district calls him Ares, after the Greek god of war, since he has such a competitive nature. He decided to follow in his big brother's footsteps and live up to his name as well two years after I did, when he was nine. Imitation is the greatest form of flattery, I guess. It paid off for him well – he is arguably the fastest boy in the district, even faster than me. Although I am the strongest. Yup, the Clerics pretty much dominate around here.
Eight laps done, two more to go.
The high-pitched voice of one of my "followers", as Ares so casually calls them, breaks my focus for a second.
"Oh my god, look, it's Poseidon Cleric. So hot!"
Yeah, I'll admit it. I'm hot and I know it. Hey, it's not being cocky; it's simply a fact of life.
I sprint past her, completely uninterested. I'm not interested in any of them, those girls who constantly drool over me.
Done. Ten laps, finished. Today was an easy day for me; I usually do much more than ten.
"Woot! Go Poseidon!"
"Work it, boy!"
I wink in the direction of the two girls, who look no older than thirteen or fourteen, and they squeal with excitement.
I immediately head home for a shower. As much as I love working out and training, being sweaty really is not my cup of tea.
Within minutes, I can see my house, a big towering structure next to the shack-like huts around it. My father never cared for the Victor's Village, and so he built himself an equally luxurious home at the heart of the district.
I am greeted by Ares, who appears to have just gotten out of the shower himself judging by the towel he's currently wrapped in. He must have gotten his jogging done earlier this morning, before the sunrise. He's an early bird, my brother. Always has been.
"Hey, man. I wasn't expecting you to be back so early. How many laps you do? Like, five?"
I sigh and push past him, muttering the actual amount under my breath.
"Only ten?! Man, I did twenty! Was it a resting day, or a lazy day? I'm thinking the latter!"
I can't help but chuckle at this. Typical Ares, always wanting to have a one-up. I hear him call out one more thing before I enter the bathroom.
"Um, if there's no hot water I apologize in advance!"
I groan at this. If there's one thing I hate, it's showering in cold water.
I shiver as I step out of the shower, having been forced to wash myself in ice-cold water thanks to Ares. I immediately look into the mirror, smiling at my reflection. I can see why all those girls like me so much. Emerald eyes that can make anyone fall in love, bronze curly hair at my shoulders. Not to mention my toned, tanned body. I can have any girl I want.
Too bad I'm not interested in any of them.
I head on over to my room, throwing on whatever clothes I find. There will be plenty of time to get ready for the reaping later. Right now, I want to go see my very best friend: Annabeth Slivers.
We've been friends for as long as I can remember, Annabeth and I. Both relatives of past victors, we simply understand each other. Her grandmother was the victor of the 44th Games; Amy Wood, sixteen years old at the time. She's still alive and well, living in the Victor's Village of District 11. I visit her every now and then with Annabeth.
I call out for Ares, telling him to let my parents know where I'm going. I leave before he can reply, not even bothering to know whether or not he's heard me. All I want is to see my friend before the reaping nonsense begins.
Eve Summers/Ivana Winters POV
"So, I come back as soon as I'm ready?" Jeremy asks, interlocking his fingers with mine as he speaks.
"Yup, as soon as you're ready." I reply, swinging our hands playfully back and forth as we bot lean in for a kiss.
"Love you."
"Love you too, baby."
I'm still smiling as I enter the house, not bothering to lock the door behind me. Jeremy can just walk in whenever he likes and no one else ever comes here.
I march straight up to my room, opening my small closet in search of something to wear. There isn't much, I'll admit. I skim through the limited selection of dresses, skirts and pants for several minutes before giving up in frustration. I have absolutely nothing to wear!
I immediately try to suppress my anger, knowing that Ivana will soon take over. That's what happened last year, when I couldn't find any good shoes. Ivana stole them from a shop, and I barely got away with it. I remember waking up with the unfamiliar (though pretty) shoes in my hands and rushing back to pay for them, claiming that I had forgotten I had them in hand. The lady at the desk had simply shaken her head at me in annoyance.
So, no getting frustrated about reaping clothes for me. Or anything, really. Frustration and anger are Ivana's specialty. I, on the other hand, steer clear of it. All to steer clear of her. An internal curse I have no idea how to reverse. It's tough getting away from your enemy when they are living inside of you, isn't it?
I'm about to look through the clothes one more time when a small wooden chest in the corner of my closet catches my attention. A chest I have not opened in three years.
In it, lays all of my mother's old clothes.
I used to open it all of the time, looking for nice outfits to wear when I was bored or later for my first two reaping outfits. After that horrible, horrible morning, I never opened it again. The thought was simply too painful.
I step with caution towards the chest. Will this trigger Ivana? Sadness and grief has never really summoned her; anger and rage usually do the trick. So, she shouldn't feel any need to intervene, should she?
I decide to take the risk, pulling the chest out of its corner and resting it gently on my bed. I blow on it softly, removing the thin layer of dust that has accumulated on its surfaced over the years. Finally, with a deep and shaky breath, I open it.
My reaping outfit from when I was thirteen is at the very top, the last thing I ever pulled out. It was gorgeous; a sapphire blue dress. I remember feeling so beautiful in it, and unable to wait until Jeremy saw me in it. He had showered me with compliments that entire day.
I find myself smiling fondly at the memory, pushing the beautiful blue dress aside. I pull out dress after dress, most of them all too small; I recognize one that I wore to a Victory Tour when I was around eight.
Finally, I spot it.
A soft pink dress, about knee length. It is exquisite, and looks closer to my size than any of the ones I have seen thus far.
I put it on as quickly as I possibly can without ripping it in my excitement, looking at myself in the dirty old mirror.
My facial expression holds exactly the same awe and amazement it did three years ago when I wore the sapphire dress. I look absolutely stunning.
The dress falls right below my knees, the soft pink colour complimenting my olive-toned skin nicely. My almond-shaped hazel eyes are glowing with a happiness they haven't held in years, and my wavy brown hair falls almost perfectly down my back. I smile at my reflection, feeling so pleased with the way I look. Wherever my mother is, I'm sure she is beaming down at me.
I put on the same shoes I wore last year, along with the locket I've been wearing every reaping since the death of my family. It contains a picture of my parents on their wedding day, and another of my sister taken just months before she was killed, on her eleventh birthday. Every reaping they are with me, even if it is not in a physical manner. I know it.
A knock on the door snaps me out of my daydream. Jeremy. I rush over to greet him, wrapping my arms around him the second I see him. He looks so handsome.
"Jeremy, you look amazing!" I gush, kissing him softly on the cheek.
"As do you, love." He says, giving me an identical kiss on my own cheek.
We walk to the reaping hand in hand, and I can feel the nerves beginning to rise in me. The only reassuring thought I have is that Jeremy is finally safe. He's now nineteen, and free from the reaping forever.
Three more years and I will be, too.
Poseidon Cleric POV
"Poseidon, hey! Wanna hang out at my place after the reaping?"
"Ugh, please, he'd much rather come to my house than your shack!"
I sigh in annoyance as the two girls – one poor as dirt and the other nearly as rich as me – immediately begin arguing over me. Little do they know I have no interest in going to either of their houses.
Annabeth giggles at my expression.
"Too many followers huh, Poseidon? It's a hard knock life!"
Ares' little nickname for them has rubbed off on a few people, it seems. Now if only said people would take a damn hint…
"Yup. It gets difficult…" I joke.
"Well, at least people find you good looking. Unlike me." Annabeth sighs, a mockingly longing tone to her voice.
"What are you talking about?" I reply with a grin, "I find you good looking."
"Oh, you make me blush."
We've finally arrived at the line, a couple just breaking away from a kiss in front of us. The girl steps into the reaping line while the boy goes off to sign into the crowd. Sucks.
The line actually goes by pretty quickly for once, and before I know it I'm signed in and saying my goodbyes to Annabeth.
"I'll see you when this is over, alright Anne?"
She nods, pulling me into a tight hug before heading off to the seventeen year old female section.
The escort wastes no time either, just wanting to get this over with as he does every year.
"Hey, District 11! Long time no see, huh? Well, there's no time to waste! Let's start with the guys cause hey, why not, right?"
He all but sprints over to the reaping ball, pulling out the first slip he encounters. He hasn't even reached his microphone yet before blurting out the name scribbled onto it.
"Carlos Cleric!"
My relieved sigh catches in my throat when the realization of who was just called hits me. Cleric. Not me, though.
Ares.
I catch sight of him right away, making his way through the crowd of fifteen-year-old boys with his head up high and his chest puffed out arrogantly. Trying so hard to mask his pain, his fear, yet I can see it.
No. I can't let this happen to Ares. Not him. He has so much ahead of him, could become so much. He's so young. I can't. I need to…I need to…
"I volunteer!"
I nearly jump at the words, my own voice having spoken them before I had even made the conscious decision to do so.
Ares keeps walking, determined to not show weakness. Determined to not let his fear, or mine, get the best of him. I sprint over to the stage, pulling him behind me before he could even take another step.
"I volunteer as tribute." I declare icily to the hyperactive escort before me.
Ares immediately begins to protest behind me.
"Poseidon, you don't have to-"
"Ares. Go back with your friends."
"But-"
"Ares! Now."
I can see what he's doing, trying to make it seem like he wants all the glory. Like a wanna-be career from the second to poorest district in the nation. I'm sure everyone's buying it, too. But not me. I can see his eyes up close, the wetness in them. He's afraid. For me.
His best friend walks over then, ripping him from my grasp to take him back to their section. I thank him with my eyes before mounting the stage, fully prepared to do some of the best acting this district has ever seen.
I can hear the voices, all of them female.
"Oh no, Poseidon!"
"He's soo brave!"
"Ares is so lucky to have such a great brother!"
"Speaking of which, that boys gonna need some comfort soon.."
I almost chuckle at that last one. Ares may or may not be so happy about acquiring all of my "followers"…
"So, what's your name, kid? Come on, you've wasted enough time!"
I turn to face the crowd, not staring at anyone in particular. I don't want to see anyone, detaching myself completely.
"My name is Poseidon Cleric." I claim in a low voice.
They stare back expectantly, knowing full well I always have more to say.
"And I'm going to be this year's Victor."
Eve Summers/Ivana Winters POV
I watch as Poseidon Cleric – one of the hottest boys in the district – gloats in front of the crowd, claiming that he will take home the victory. He's wearing a white shirt tucked into a pair of beige jeans and black boots, the shirt slightly unbuttoned to reveal just some of his muscular chest underneath. He looks good.
That cocky attitude is not doing much for him, though.
"Alright, the ladies now, let's make this quick!"
Before the escort can move, several Peacekeepers bombard the square. They're running towards the crowd of those who are not eligible to be reaped, searching frantically for someone. A criminal, probably. This happened at the District 9 reaping just a few years ago; they shot the man in front of everyone before calmly allowing the escort to continue on with the reaping.
The Peacekeepers have found the crook, dragging him out into the middle of the square just in between the female and males sides of the "reapable" people. They slowly distance themselves from him, loosening the tight circle they had formed around him to make him visible to the crowd. A strangled gasp escapes my throat when I realize who it is.
Jeremy.
The Head Peacekeeper slowly approaches him, a look of malice on his face.
"Jeremy Flicker, age 19, correct?"
Jeremy responds by horribly spitting in the man's face, earning him another round of rough restraint by the peacekeepers around him. I could feel myself shaking uncontrollably at the sight. I've never seen Jeremy like this. Why is he acting like this? Why is he even being brought to the district's attention in the first place?!
"Mr. Flicker, after three years of intense investigation you have been officially pronounced guilty. Guilty of the murder of three innocents, being forty-year-old Lavender Gold; forty-two-year-old Link Summers and eleven-year-old Suzanne Summers."
I freeze in place, my mind completely unable to process what it just heard. That man just named my entire family. My mother, father, and little sister who were murdered three years ago.
By Jeremy.
I don't feel myself starting to fall until the girl behind me roughly catches me under the arms, steadying me with a look of concern. I nod at her weakly in thanks before turning back to the terrible scene before me. Maybe they have the wrong guy. Hopefully.
Jeremy has fallen into a fit of rage.
"They were coming between us! I knew it! They were ruining everything! That man had a nasty look ij his eye every time he saw me and his wife wouldn't even let her fucking close the door to her room if I was in there! Really?!"
Any hope I had of this being a mistake crumbles away with his words. He really did it. He murdered them. All of them.
Because of me.
He hasn't finished his rant, "I was going to leave the girl, but she woke up and saw everything! I couldn't risk her squealing so I had to get rid of her too."
I'm quivering so much now that I can barely stand, two girls next to me, gripping me tightly by the arms to hold me in place as tears stream freely down my face. This is all my fault, all of it…
"Jeremy Flicker, you are officially guilty of murder. The punishment for this crime is immediate execution. That is it." the Head Peacekeeper drones on, with a satisfied smirk.
He motions for a third peacekeeper to come forward then, a gun in his hand.
No.
He steps toward Jeremy.
The one person I had left.
He points the gun to his head, Jeremy looking him dead in the eye without fear.
He murdered my family. The one person I thought truly cared…
The sound of the gunshot pierces sharply through the air, a few shrieks tagging along with it. Jeremy slumps to the floor lifelessly.
I am hyperventilating now, sobbing, unable to think or breath or function…
"Okay, now let's move on to the girls before this becomes the longest reaping in history!"
I pay the escort no mind, my mind is gone..
I hear and see nothing until the escort calls the name.
"Eve Summers!"
Me. It's me.
I'm going into the Games.
A strangled, piercing scream escapes me and I tumble to the floor limply, the girls beside me no longer capable of holding me up. I screech and sob on the floor, unable to move even the slightest bit.
That's when I feel it. My consciousness slowly slipping away, but not only that. An alternate consciousness slowly taking over.
Ivana.
For once I welcome her, allowing myself to fully pass out so she can take over. So she can save me.
I lift myself off of the floor, shoving those two idiots off to the side as I make my way to the stage. This is my chance. My chance to finally make myself known.
I make use of the tears Eve produced, sobbing artificially all the way to the stage, trying to seem as Eve-like as I can.
Once onto the stage, I stare out at the crowd before me. All horror-struck and full of sympathy. Little do they know I'm living the dream right now. I get to slaughter twenty-three people!
This is all I ever wanted.
We're instructed to shake hands, the boy and I, and so we do. I smile at him through the tears, doing my best to appear as sweet as possible.
I will murder him. And I will make it excruciating.
Same with all the others.
Poseidon Cleric POV
I sit in the tribute room, thoughts running through my mind at what feels like a thousand miles per hour. I find myself completely unable to focus on one particular thought. I'm going into the Games. I need a strategy, an interview angle, sponsors, a good mentor, a token…
The door to the room swings open, bringing my racing mind to a temporary halt.
In walks Ares, along with my parents. Their expressions are completely unreadable, almost blank. I have no idea what they're thinking.
My brother wastes no time in expressing his thoughts.
"Why'd you do that, Poseidon? You didn't have to!"
He's still putting on the tough guy act, trying desperately to convince me that he could have survived the Games all on his own. That I was stealing the glory from him.
"Ares –"
"No, it was stupid! Now you're risking your life, all for me?!"
I am taken aback by this comment. Risking my life? So, this has nothing to do with glory, or independence as I thought before.
This is about guilt.
Ares' face no longer appears blank. I see exactly what he's feeling. He looks absolutely consumed with guilt, as if he was the one to pull his own name from that reaping ball.
"Hey."
He looks away, making no attempt at all at eye contact, something on the ground apparently intriguing him more than I am.
"Ares." I raise my voice a little, making it clear that I want eye contact.
He finally looks up.
"It's not your fault. You didn't choose to get reaped, or for me to step in and take your place. I made that second decision on my own and, well, the reaping is just the reaping. People get picked. This time it just so happened to be you."
He looks away again, nodding his head in understanding, and I feel some relief when his eyes go slightly back to the way they used to look – mischievous and competitive rather than guilty and devastated.
"Don't do anything stupid in there. I mean it."
I can't help but laugh a little, "I won't, Ares. And don't worry, I'll be racking in all the sponsors with these good looks."
"You wish," Ares retorts, rolling his eyes while I simply grin back.
My parents then decide it's time to intervene, stepping subtly between my brother and I.
"Poseidon. I never thought I would have to do this, but I'll give you a quick run-down of how these Games will probably go and what you should do."
I nod in agreement at my father, victor of the 79th Games.
"Don't go into the bloodbath. Seriously. Run and take whatever you see but don't join in on the fight, it's far too dangerous. Try to be as appealing as possible to potential sponsors; they can be life-saving."
"Yeah, dad, I know. Don't worry I've watched enough Games on TV in my life."
He simply nods, knowing it's the truth. Ares and I would study the Games attentively as kids, decomposing the tributes' strategies until we'd pretty much worked out the keys to both winning and losing the Games. I'm ready for this. I can do it.
The peacekeepers come, but I'm not afraid. I keep my head high as I step towards the train, smiling and winking for the cameras.
I got this.
Eve Summers/Ivana Winters POV
Jeremy.
How could he have done this to me? Who murders an entire family?
He deserves to be dead. He's lucky I didn't find out sooner, I would have made his end much more painful…
And now I'm in the Games. The Hunger Games. Oh my god…
I'll get us out of it. I will slaughter them all. We'll have the highest amount of kills in the history of the Games and we'll be rich and famous…
My vision is hazy, blurred with tears. It feels like I'm only half present, half conscious. I guess in a way I am. For the first time ever, I am both Eve and Ivana at once and it is the most confusing feeling. It's like talking to myself, yet talking to someone else at the same time. All without speaking a word out loud.
I really don't feel like going through the whole interview and chariot ride thing. Ugh. I'll leave that to you, Eve. Just let me take care of training and the Games, and we'll be out of there in no time.
Um, no. I will do everything in my power to stay present during the entire training session. If Ivana – if I – murder a tribute before the Games have even started there will be hell to pay with the Capitol. We probably wouldn't even make it into the arena. No, Ivana, leave the training to me.
I can control myself. I'll save it all for the arena, trust me…
I can feel my lips curling into a sadistic smile, images of Poseidon Cleric laying bloody and broken on the floor of the arena rushing through my mind.
I shudder. That will be Ivana's doing. Not mine.
But yet still mine.
I sigh, burying my head in my hands. This is going to be so much harder than I thought.
I take the locket from my neck, opening it to reveal the smiling faces of my family. The smiles that I will never see again, all because of the one person I thought to be the love of my life.
A tear drops from my eye, splashing onto little Sue's face in the picture. I wipe it off hastily. I will not let it get ruined. This will be my token.
We'll avenge them, Eve. I'll avenge them. Through the twenty-three rivals in the Hunger Games.
The peacekeepers come, and I find myself fully aware, Ivana having slipped away temporarily. They lead me out of the room, where cameras of every shape and size immediately bombard me.
"How do you feel about going into the Games?" one reporter asks me.
I ignore him, inching closer to Poseidon, who's winking and answering questions like some Capitol celebrity. He turns to me for a brief moment, flashing me a brilliant smile.
I smile back sweetly.
I can't wait to kill you.
A/N
Well there it is! Sorry for the long wait; one more reaping and we're DONE! Yeah!
Please review!
Candy ~