Arena, Day Eight.
Tanis Maes, 15 years, District Seven Female.
It's weird to be around someone who I'm mostly convinced isn't going to kill me in my sleep.
The thing is, Nadir would have every right to. I hadn't seen her in so long, was convinced that I never would. To be fair, I was also pretty convinced that I was never getting out of my previous alliance alive.
I think we'd have every right to reverse it, too, for me to want to kill her. But I don't want her dead. That's the last thing I want. I've understood since day one why she ran, why she tried to put as much distance as she could between us and herself. It was smart, even. She's the one laden with weapons and some food, Zion's backpack now hanging off her shoulders.
I'm still waiting for it to hit, the realization that I helped her kill someone. I've seen how it's crushed people, watching in the years before now. I'm constantly waiting for that pain to land on my shoulders, for the grief to finally rise up, and it doesn't. That horror didn't hit me when I saw Isi's fingers hit the floor either, or when she stalked down the stairs to kill Nadir's District partner, when Shirin walked out into the rain to kill a girl who looked too small to even be here.
Maybe it never will. Maybe I'll never have the look in my eyes that Nadir had last night, when he asked for it.
I know we're similar, but maybe not as much as I thought. There was something in her eyes there, a war going on in her head that I probably won't ever be privy to.
At the end of the day, it still ended. That's all that matters.
Shirin's backpack is almost completely empty, save for the first aid kid and one of the water bottles. I have no idea where the other is. Zion's first aid kit is half empty, and while the majority of the food is gone there's water in there, too. Hopefully enough to last us until the end.
I can see myself going to the end with her. I've never allowed myself to think something that dangerous, until this point.
I don't know if she feels the same way, but the way she handed me an axe last night says a lot more than any words ever could.
"You alright?" Nadir asks quietly. I don't know how long we've been walking in silence, but it's never felt awkward.
"Yeah. Just thinking."
"'Bout what?"
"About how much I'm going to have to apologize if Shirin and Isi come after us."
She smiles, and anyone watching probably doesn't understand how she could. It's a complete turnaround from what happened last night, from the dead body lying in front of the two of us.
"I think we could take them," she says. "There are worse things in the world than the two of them."
"Sounds like you're speaking from experience there."
Nadir hums under her breath, and I figure that's about the most agreement I'm going to get. There's no need to pry. There's only a certain amount of time at least one of us has left, and I don't want to spend every second of it reminiscing on all the bad things that have happened. Here or back home. It's not like I've even had anything terrible to me before. I'm normal, by all rights and associations. I don't have any reason to be reacting the way I am - my reactions are for people who have been through worse times, who have seen things like this in front of them before.
It just doesn't add up. And it doesn't have to.
"I am sorry, about before," Nadir continues. "I should have at least gotten you to come with me."
"Well, we're both alive, aren't we? It worked out alright."
Relatively speaking, anyway. We're both deep into the sleep deprivation side of things, hungrier than we'd like to be. Neither of us got here because of luck. Sure, it could have been a lot easier if I had went with her at the beginning, but who really knows? For all we know it could've gone worse.
Speaking of sleep deprivation, though, it's getting easier by the minute to notice how tired she actually looks. I know I didn't have it the greatest, almost constantly keeping one eye open because I was afraid of getting knifed in the back, but Nadir hasn't had anyone. She probably hasn't slept for more than a few minutes at a time, always wondering if any noise she heard was something bad. Something that could kill her.
"We can stop, if you want," I offer, and she looks back at me. Her footsteps slow to a halt, and I'm not sure she even realizes.
We spent most of last night wandering, too, and I'm not sure if that was because we didn't quite know how to work together after a week apart, or if she was too afraid to sit there with Zion's words ringing over and over again in her ears.
"You can sleep for a few hours. I'll keep watch. I don't mind."
I'm nowhere near as tired as she looks. I don't know if I'd even be able to get to the point she's at right now without passing out.
She bumps her shoulder gently against mine and looks around. "And to think I left you behind."
I shake my head, but I smile too. Yeah, maybe we could have had it better since the start, but at least we're trying now. It's better late than never. For all we know something terrible is going to happen tomorrow and this will be the last amount of solid sleep she ever gets, the last time I'm ever able to sit next to someone and know that I'm safe for the time being.
It could be the opposite though. Something incredible could happen too.
We'll just have to wait and see.
Shirin Azami, 17 years, District Three Male.
I know two seconds after we start moving that this isn't going to go the way Isi's imagining it is.
For all we know what Isi saw was a trick of the light, and all four of them really are together. If we stumble on all of them, at the same time, we'll be dead in two seconds flat. She might be able to take one of them with her, but I don't see anything else happening. Not before one of them fucking decapitates her, and then me before I manage to run all of two feet away.
So right now we're headed in their vague direction, but they could be long gone. We could be walking directly into the dumbest decision that Isi's ever made, and she'll still probably blame me for it.
At least Early's finally bit it. Whatever happened to her had to have been better than what I would have done, had I ever saw her.
You'd think someone who lost three and a half fingers and two knives would be more cautious about this type of thing, and yet here I am. Still following along behind her because I really don't have anything better to do, if you think about it.
I told myself I wouldn't die for her, wouldn't die for anyone.
The prospect looks more and more likely to happen the longer we walk on, with no sign of anything.
The water has accelerated, lapping over the bridge now, flooding the Cornucopia. By the end of the day it'll be stories up from that. We're all so close together by this point that it's a miracle that we haven't found them yet. Two of them have to be making a decent amount of noise, and four of them? Should be loud enough to tear this whole place down.
Isi's anger is inching higher and higher to what the officials are probably calling a breaking point. Apparently her personality is trying to make up for her lost fingers.
That lone knife is the only thing keeping my head screwed on straight, the fact that she can't do as much damage with one knife as she'd really like to. That's concerning for who we're searching out, too, but who knows what kind of weapons they have. Maybe they don't have any.
Whoever's blind, foolish optimism is rubbing off on me, I don't want it.
Isi kicks half a chair out of her way, which strikes me as a tad dramatic. I would say so, if I wasn't the second most dramatic person in this arena, save for her.
The noise is concerning, though. Save for the vultures and the damned grim reaper, nothing in here has been causing any noise, not unless you count all the rats scuttling around. A chair hitting the opposite wall and then splintering into even further pieces than it already was; it's asking for someone to come and kill us. I'm beginning to think what Isi said on the bridge was more accurate than I thought. God, do I wish.
The shadow that flickers in the next doorway makes me think otherwise.
Isi hasn't noticed. She probably thinks it's another one of the actual shadows, the kind that form into something bigger, more dangerous.
"Stop," I say, and that's too loud as well. Isi actually listens, and cranes her head back to look at me, confused. Or irritated. Both, probably.
It's all too loud. If that really is a person, then—
Someone swings themselves out of the doorway and has a crossbow pointed directly at Isi's head before I can even blink.
—we're fucked.
Isi is the last thing on my mind as I dive to the right, my shoulder sending the door crashing in. An arrow goes shooting through the spot I had been standing, and there's the sound of something hitting the wall. Isi, probably, just managing to get out of the way in time.
These aren't the two we were looking for. I almost wish we had found the other two.
I scramble back for the door. I'd rather lock myself in here for the next foreseeable amount of hours then deal with whatever's out there. Let Isi make her final bad decision on her own. That's all this is.
Someone catches the door from the other side before I even have it half-closed. Their arm nearly gets crushed in the gap as I shove as hard as I can from the other side, but they don't really seem to care. They're stronger, too, no surprise there, but I only have maybe another two inches to get it closed. I could do it. It's not far.
"You gonna let me in?" Blair asks, and those are definitely not the two we were looking for. Why did we have to find what is arguably the worse of the two pairs, if the other two really are together?
There are ways out of this. There are ways out of everything. The window is big enough to climb through. I can't see what's below it from here, if there's another window to climb through, or maybe a balcony. For all I know it's just the water. What would I rather fall down, drown or get caught in the middle of whatever's going to happen in this room if he gets in?
I can still hear fighting out in the hallway. How Isi isn't already dead yet is beyond me.
"You let me in or I break the door down. Your choice."
What kind of fucking choice is that?
It won't take him long to break the door down. Even though I can't see them he must have weapons too. Celia can't be the only one.
Window it is, then.
I shove at the door, one last time. Somewhere in the middle of it Isi shouts, and I can see the amount of her blood Celia's probably splattering all over the walls and floor. If she dies then that's maybe a few extra seconds of time for me. Maybe it'll be enough, maybe not. I don't really care.
I don't even make it halfway across the room.
The shove wasn't enough to fully close the door, and Blair's through it and covered nearly the entire distance before my hand even brushes the windowsill. Glass digs into my palm. Guess I have no choice but to do this the hard way then. If I make it to the window he'll be on top of me before I can get over it. He'll sooner throw me over the edge than let me drop any lower.
We all know he's got zero issues with throwing people off of things.
I turn around, the bonesaw the only thing between me and him.
It might as well not exist.
I narrowly avoid the swing of the first weapon, something makeshift, nails and shards of glass missing my nose by half an inch.
The other one, the real one, cracks into my side before I can move again.
Something inside me splinters apart. I feel it. The spikes digging into my skin, the blood I feel start to flow instantly, that doesn't matter. Blinding, sharp pain shoots through my entire side and then up into my chest and my legs give out. The pain's too much, something I feel like I've seen on other people so many times and it doesn't prepare me for the burn, the lightning.
Someone shouts out in the hallway again, and I can't tell who. Christ, she's still alive. Blair looks down at me, and then points one of the maces at me.
"Stay there."
He goes sprinting back out into the hallway. Isi was always the bigger target, always the one that was going to hit harder.
I'll be dead before he gets back in the room.
I know it. I don't think he does. It hurts to breathe, pain lancing through my chest and taking a hold of my heart every time I inhale. It feels like my heart's going to explode, the tightness in my chest nearly suffocating. I can feel my heart in every inch of my body, in my side when I bring my hand up to touch it. Even that hurts, is almost too much to do. There's blood, slippery all over my fingers, but the slightest bit of pressure against my ribs confirms it.
Some of my ribs are fractured. Broken, probably. One of them has punctured a hole in my lung from the force of the hit. I have minutes, probably. Less than that, if it's really bad, and it feels bad. My breath is already coming in short, shallow gasps. There's not enough air. My fingers can't possibly be blue already, but it looks like they are. I can hardly sit up enough to tell.
I let my head thunk back against the floor. Fuck, does it hurt. I didn't think something could hurt this bad, this suddenly. Suddenly all of the screaming made sense, when someone would get pulled through our front door, hardly able to stand with their ribs in pieces inside of them.
It makes too much sense.
There's more shouting now. Every scream sends a deep, shooting stab of pain right past my heart. For how loud my heart's beating, it doesn't feel like I have one at all.
Someone's still screaming, frantic bursts of movement just outside my range of vision, and I let my eyes close.
Celia Bradshaw, 18 years, District Four Female.
When Blair shoves his shoulder into the door and goes after Shirin, I know, for the time being, that I've been left alone with the worse of the two demon twins.
Not really an issue, if I'm being honest.
She avoids the first arrow, aimed directly between her eyes, but hits the wall so hard to get away form it that there's nowhere to go. The second arrow grazes the edge of her shoulder, deep enough that there's instantly a dangerous level of bloodflow down her left arm.
She's one person with one knife, bloodied and bandaged fingers, and I already know she won't die easy.
She charges directly at me. Bold strategy for someone that I could probably knock over in two seconds flat. There's no room in this damn hallway. I can stretch both my arms out and nearly touch both walls. I move to the side but she still gets an arm around my waist and I throw the crossbow down the hallway. Guess that's a no go right now, and I really don't want her grabbing a hold of it any time soon.
She's still got a hold on me but I wiggle the sword out anyway, grabbing a knife in the other hand as I let her take me down to the ground.
I twist the both of us before we even hit the floor and she lands hard at my side. There's no noise from the other room, and the silence is almost terrifying in and of itself.
Her knife comes stabbing down towards my eyes and it meets the edge of my sword instead, the two metals clashing together between us.
Like I said, it's only one knife.
I bury my own knife in her forearm and she screams as she rips herself away from me, kicking at my legs. And to think she was the one that brought us down to the ground. It rips through the skin from her elbow to her wrist, a slick of blood pouring all over the floor as she wiggles away.
She's a mess. There's blood all over both of her arms, like she dipped them both in a bucket of paint.
"You're fucking enjoying this, aren't you?" she spits.
"You're the one talking," I point out. I'm not taking any pleasure in this. Sure, it'll be nice to see the two of them finally fucking dead, instead of running around here and terrorizing whoever they damn well please, but that doesn't mean I wanted to be the one who did it.
Now that I'm here, I really, really don't care.
She's hardly able to hold onto her knife, with how slippery her hands are. There's blood dripping rhythmically down to the floor below her, blending in with the sound of the rain outside.
My arrows lay on the ground between us, having spilled out of the quiver when I hit the ground, and she takes them all in a second before I do.
Isi throws herself back to the ground before I'm able to cross the distance and knock her away from them, and I land half on top of her. Her hand closes around one before I'm able to drag her any further away. Her feet are kicking frantically, even as I start dragging her away. The arrows go spinning down the hall, save for the one she's got clutched tightly in her hand.
If she thinks one arrow is going to kill me, she's sorely mistaken.
I see it flashing towards my arm, but I couldn't care less. It's blocking my chest, my side, the important things. The arrow sinks into the skin in the middle of my arm and it burns only for a moment before the adrenaline takes back over. My hands are still holding onto her, still controlling where she goes and what she does, and that's what matters. Nothing else.
I spin her around towards me and grab her hand, bending backwards. The knife hits the ground between us with a clatter.
Blair practically slides out of the room just down the hall.
Great timing as always.
It's hard to get the sword up between us, close as we are, and it's possibly the shittiest angle ever, but even that doesn't matter.
Blair smashes the mace against her back. Her shoulder, maybe, or over top of her spine. I don't get to see. She hits me hard, as the force of it sends her crashing against my chest. The sword slips in just under her chest and her weight only drives it in even further. It also sends me flying right to the floor, hitting the ground with a thud with Isi on top of me, and the sword breaks free from a point near the middle of the back.
"Ow," I say flatly. The arrow is still sticking out of the middle of my arm, waving unsteadily from how hard I landed. Blair stares down at me.
"You alive down there?"
"Sure am," I manage. She doesn't look heavy, but apparently she is. He grabs both of her shoulders and rolls her off of me, the sword coming free with a sick-sounding squelch as she hits the ground next to me. There's so much blood - all over the floor, on all of my weapons, coating the spikes of Blair's mace. It's all over me, too.
"You look like a serial killer," Blair informs me. "Also you have an arrow in you."
Like I hadn't noticed. He grabs the hand of my good arm and then leans down until he can hook his arm under my shoulder, pulling me unsteadily up to my feet. Judging by how much blood he gets all over his hands and arms just for pulling me up, a serial killer is probably the generous term.
"You okay?" he asks, still holding onto both of my arms, and I nod. "Alright, hold on for a second, I'm just gonna—"
Two cannons shatter the almost eerie quiet that has settled back over the hallway, and Blair looks back to the room he had gone in, confused.
He came back out of the room so quick, but that really wasn't a surprise. Shirin was never a fighter. So quick, apparently, that he thought he hadn't even killed him in the first place. That's the confusion now, but you're not going to hear me complain about it.
"That's convenient," I say flatly, and Blair turns back to me. There's a half-smile on his face, and neither of us should be smiling right now, but I get it. I completely get it.
"Man, Dimara and Rory are not going to be pleased."
In the moment I had forgotten about that. Don't do anything stupid.
It hits me now, and I start laughing.
Anyone else would be looking at me right now like I'm insane, but Blair starts laughing too, and god is this all so stupid.
And wow, are they going to be so pissed.
Dimara Vespoli, 18 years, District One Female.
Neither of us move when the screaming starts up.
It's not like we've found anything anyway. No damn point in continuing to walk around aimlessly. It's echoing around too much to tell where it's coming from, at first, but gradually it trickles down into nothing at all.
Rory's staring down at the floor, like he can see through the building to whatever's happening, most probably below us.
There's been signs of other people. Water on the floor where there's no window close by to have made it in the first place, a door cracked open in a hallway where the others are all shut tight. It doesn't make sense that we can't find anything. It's like everyone else has managed to disappear into the walls. Or maybe the vents. That's pretty much the only place we haven't looked at this point.
In the very least, it seems to have cleared Rory's head out a little bit. That's probably why he now looks so overwhelmingly concerned, as he stares at the floor between his feet like it holds all the secrets to the universe.
"I'm not the only one who has a really bad feeling about that, am I?" Rory asks, and I was really hoping he wouldn't say it.
I was already thinking it. There's only two people we know are anywhere below us for sure, and if I go downstairs and Blair and Celia are still sitting in that room, minding their own damn businesses, then I'll probably pass out. Literally anything else in the world happening is probably more likely than that. You'd have to be blind not to see that, and we're not.
"Let's go," I sigh, and can only pray that they're not dead.
Rory leads the way back down the stairs, clutching tight to the bow the whole while.
If they're dead... I don't even want to think about it. There won't be any coming back from that. Rory will fall apart. There won't be anything left for me. Getting back home, back to Kali, it's always been priority number one. But they've rapidly becoming priority number two, faster than I thought was possible. One day they weren't there and the next they had skyrocketed so high it would seem stupid to anyone other than us.
Scratch that, even I think it's stupid. But there's nothing I can do about it now, is there? They're here, and there's no getting rid of them, not when they've burrowed so far under my skin.
Not unless they really are dead. But I'm not willing to confront that thought just yet.
We could be running past so much. So many people, for all we know. Our footsteps echo through the stairwell and bounce back off the walls, but it's something to focus on as we get further and further down. I didn't even look at the floor we left them on but Rory apparently knows, because he stops at the next landing and hauls the door open, holding it for me.
He steps out into the hallway and notches an arrow, but keeps it pointed at the ground. I've never been more thankful in my life that they brought a spear with the thought of me in the backs of their minds than right now.
One more corner, and then that'll be where we left them.
Rory pauses and I edge closer to his side. Can't see anything, not with this angle. Should I be glad I can't?
I nod and he steps around the corner, the arrow a clean line down the rest of the hall, and then nearly drops the bow.
Well, that can't be good.
I round the corner and Blair and Celia are standing about halfway down, both covered in blood.
Or, at least Celia is, but I can see where blood is spreading rapidly down Blair's arms just because he's dared to hold onto her this long. He cranes his head back to look at us, eyes widening.
"Act casual," he says, and then smiles.
"I fucking hate you," I inform him, and Celia's smile rapidly crumbles into something closer to a laugh. God, I really do. I can't ask one thing without it being completely ignored, can I? Rory all but smacks a hand over his face but is already walking towards them. I can't tell if he's just that exasperated or trying to ignore the carnage all around their feet. Probably the latter.
There's a body inside the room to my right - Shirin. Mostly intact too, which is a surprise in and of itself. The body on the floor in front of me, which was apparently once Isi, didn't have the same fortune. It's a miracle I can even make out her face. At least that explains where all the blood came from.
Rory's holding onto Celia's arm now, examining the fucking arrow sticking out of it like that's a perfectly normal thing to be looking at. Celia swats Blair's hand away when he reaches for it.
"You, don't touch. You're not going to be gentle about it."
"You wound me."
"I'm gonna wound you in a second," I announce, and then shove him to the side to make room for me in the little circle. "How much of this blood is actually yours?"
She nods towards the arrow. "Just that. Swear, we're fine. For all we know they were looking for the two of you, so—"
"So you're welcome," Blair interrupts, and then dives out of the way when I attempt to hit him, disappearing into the room where Shirin's body is. He reemerges with a bonesaw clutched in his hand, along with the other two weapons he already has. That's about the least reassuring thing I've ever laid eyes on in my entire life, and I've seen some shit.
"We're fine," Blair emphasizes. "Thought it would be harder, actually. Everything is all fine and dandy and it will remain that way, don't worry about it."
"That's up for debate." It really is. We're all fine right now, somehow, when things could have gone so disastrously wrong in the first place. Who knows how many days we have left, though, all four of us together. This was one close call of many more to come, I'm sure. I wasn't lying when I said they'd all gotten under my skin, and really, this has only confirmed it.
Celia hisses as Rory snaps the arrow clean in two and the broken piece of wood hits the ground and rolls against my boots.
"Just trust me," Blair says, as I turn back to him again. And I do, despite whatever else I've said. "I've got an idea."
"Your ideas are always terrible," Rory reminds him.
Blair just smiles.
Vance Derora, 16 years, District Eight Male.
Something awful is going to happen.
There isn't any reason for me to think it. Nothing's changed, not really. The sky continues to grow darker, to the point where I'm just waiting for the rain to stop like always. I'm becoming more and more convinced by the second that Kelsea's literally fallen asleep on my shoulder, but I can't look back without accidentally jostling her off, and if she really is asleep I don't think she'd appreciate it.
I also don't think she'd appreciate another spiel on the impending doom I'm pretty sure we're all going to get caught in the middle of.
We lost two towers, three and six. Tomorrow's day nine. What could possibly happen?
Maybe they thought that the quicker they brought us all together, the quicker we would all die. There are still ten of us left. If something happens tomorrow, if the tower gets swallowed whole by the rapidly approaching waves or crumbles entirely into the water, what will happen to all of us? Maybe they're banking on one of the Fours to survive at the end of the day, but with all of that stacked against us? Even that doesn't seem too likely.
I stop in a room with a balcony and poke my head out over the edge just as the rain stops. The moon appears, peeking out from between the clouds, and I look down.
It's hard to tell how far down the Cornucopia really was, now that it's gone. The water finally crested over the top of it hours ago, and who knows how many feet of water it's hidden underneath now.
It's terrifying to see it rising that fast. Any moment now one of us could be over the edge, water rapidly filling our lungs, and there'd be no way out of it.
The anthem ringing out is enough to distract me even if it's only for a few minutes. Kelsea's head jerks up suddenly from my shoulder, her eyes wide.
"We're good," I say quietly.
"Did I fall asleep?"
"Was wondering that myself."
She drops her chin back on my shoulder, blinking heavily. "Sorry."
I shake my head, but the faces that appear in the sky brush away all other thought. Both of them are dead? And here I thought that after the bloodbath, the ones left were practically going to be indestructible. It certainly seemed that way, and suddenly two of the people I thought we had to fear the most are dead, just like that. It also means that Farren is still out there, somewhere. Probably still alone, the way I left her.
"That's good for us," Kelsea murmurs, but she looks troubled. Probably for the same reason I am.
"Unless whatever killed them tries to kill us next."
That's exactly what I'm worried about, what I'm sure has already occurred to her. Would it be the Careers, or someone else? No matter what the option is, I don't see both of us alive at the end of it. If someone attacks us, I'll have to drop Kelsea to have any chance at fighting back. That leaves her alone while I probably get myself killed, at the end of the day, and then she dies too.
I don't know if there's any way out of this.
I should stop thinking about it. There's no point. If something's going to happen I'm not going to be able to do anything to stop it. The whole world is moving around us right now, evolving and changing to see what will happen. All we can do is hope that if things really do collapse, in whatever way, that we manage to climb our way out of the rubble.
"Do you mind if we stop here?"
Kelsea shakes her head and tightens her arm around my shoulders as I crouch down and lower her down back to the ground. She scoots back until she's leaning against the wall and watches as I shut the door, dropping back down by her side.
"I'm going back to sleep on you," she informs me, and then drops her head back on my shoulder. Considering she did the exact same thing last night after keeping watch for six odd hours, I'm really not surprised. It's not really that difficult to be more comfortable than the wall, or the floor. Besides, it's freezing. It's almost a surprise that my fingers haven't frozen right off by now, or her entire foot. She's managed to fit it back in her sock but not the boot, which still sits in our backpack. She's never complained about it.
Kelsea shoves her hands under her arms and I shift until I can wrap my arm around her shoulders, which she seems to appreciate as she burrows in closer.
"Wake me up in a few hours," she mumbles.
"Got it."
I don't know what good one of us always staying up does. If that door were to burst open right now, I don't know what we could to do stop whatever was on the other side. Who knows if we'll ever figure it out.
I look back out the open balcony, watching the water. It's just a matter of time. Everything's always a matter of time.
Victor poll is up because I'm bored and unoriginal. Obviously the people who died this chapter are not a part of it. So if anyone scrolls down here, looks at this, and then immediately goes and looks at the poll, you're gonna get it. Because I'll totally know, obviously.
(I almost put it up yesterday without thinking. That would've been a doozy for the one or two of you who always notice I have it up a day or two before I update.)
Shout-out to all of you who are graduating/have already graduated, and good luck to the people that are still swamped in tests and exams, because I feel like that's literally every single one of you. I'm old? Reviews are much appreciated as always. I haven't actually gotten six reviews since the chapter seven mark, so getting that number this far in meant a lot.
My condolences to the people who always think I'm gonna do the complete opposite of what I actually do. At this point I'm not sure if I laugh or cry, at the complete totality of how amazing some of your predictions are for someone who literally never goes through with them. Probably cry.
Until next time.
