Epilogue:

Sweet emotion

Sweet emotion

Talk about things that nobody cares

Wearing other things that nobody wears

You're callin' my name, but I gotta make it clear

I can't say, baby, where I'll be in a year

The train ride home is taking forever.

I can't wait to finally leave, and go back to my family. I've only been away for about two weeks, but that's still a very long time. It's even longer when you know you might never live to see them again. But I'm still here.

"Soon hun," Rhiannon says softly, taking a delicate sip form her teacup. "Less than an hour to go."
"I could walk home and it would be faster."
"Oh no it wouldn't."

Cheyenne sighs. "We'll get there when we get there. But I know how you feel. I want to see my fiance again."
Something occurs to me. "Cheyenne, what if everyone is mad because...I...you know..."
"No, no, you'll be fine. Trust me. Compared to what I did in my arena, you're a literal saint."

I can't even remember what Cheyenne's Games were like, and it might not be a good idea to pester her about it. So I let the matter drop and start watching the world fly by through the window. I don't wanna wait any longer. I just want to be back...

The train comes to a stop and I can see a gathering of people outside. I don't recognize any of them.
Cheyenne lingers at the door. "This is it. Are you ready?"
"I suppose so."

I never even knew that there were so many people in District 10. The train station is crowded, where Peacekeepers form a blockade between them and me. Thankfully, Cheyenne is there, which makes me feel a little less isolated. But everyone's here for me. To welcome me home.

I catch three familiar faces pushing towards the front of the crowd and I down towards them, past the Peacekeepers. They don't make any attempt to stop me; nobody wants to be responsible for hurting the latest Victor. And nobody gets in my way as I jump at my parents. They catch me as if I was a little child.

"Oh honey," Mom whispers, stroking my hair. "Oh sweetheart. My little girl..."
"Great job Ria," Dad says softly. "We knew you could do it."

I feel warm. I feel safe. I feel loved.

The cheering continues but I pay it no attention. What matters I that I'm here, my parents are here, and it's as if nothing has changed. I made it home, back to District 10 where I belong. I fight for my right to get here, and now I can stay. There's nothing holding me back.

I don't want this moment to change. Ever.

That whole moment was three weeks ago. And everything has changed since then.

The houses in Victor's Village have always looked pretty big to me, but they're actually bigger than I thought. Even for someone who comes from the more fortunate end of 10. And there's so much money. My parents could never work again if they wanted to. But the rules are they can only manage my funds until I've aged out of the Reaping bracket and then, it will all belong to me. But I let them help themselves to whatever they need for shopping and the like. They're grateful for it.

The same can't be said for my little brother.

Ever since he found out he'd live in the biggest house out of all his friends and belonged to one of the richest families in 10, Alan has gone off the deep end into becoming a spoiled brat. For him, it's never enough. He wishes we had more money, a bigger yard, a better pool, more toys, more of this, more of that! He wants it all! He needs to get his way! And he's not even happy with that we already have!

The money to pay for the expensive shit he treats himself to came from his big sister almost sacrificing her life.

And he doesn't even care.

One night, Alan starts to complain about the salmon we're having for dinner that was sent to us straight from 4; fish is considered a luxury in the livestock district. But it's not cooked properly, not seasoned properly, he hates the way it tastes, it hasn't been cut the way he wants it. He stabs his knife straight through it, almost sounding like an arrow through someone's flesh-

I slam my hands on the table. Nobody says anything, but at least Alan's shut up for now.

Everyone at school is jealous. Yes, Mom still makes me go to the summer school classes, for those who can actually afford them. I can hear them whispering to themselves behind my back. They sneer at me when I pass by. When they're certain I'm looking, they raise their rights hands and pretend to scratch their eyes out.

My new fingers have come in already. They work perfectly fine and fit like a glove. But it's not the same. In District 10, where accidents happen and not everyone can afford a replacement limb, people will notice. And they don't like what they see.

"Ignore them," Jess says. "They're just jealous."
"But it's hard."
"They'll stop when they see they can't get to you."

I tap my new fingers against my desk in school. People laugh. The teacher slams a yardstick against a textbook to calm us all down. But all I hear is Cindra's sword piercing through Troy's body. I cover my eyes. Please, please don't send me back to the arena, please...

At night, I'm too afraid to fall asleep. All that awaits me is the bodies and ghosts of old enemies. Every little sound reminds me of another. One thing triggers something else until I'm collapsing against a wall, hyperventilating and screaming for my life.

I don't want to go back.

"Is that why you're here?" Dr. Kirsten says, scribbling a note down with his pen. "Your parents mentioned something about constant panic attacks."
"I don't know...is that what they are?"

"You worked with past therapists before me, right? What have they told you?"
"Yeah, I guess I have some panic attacks."
"What would you say usually triggers them?"

"Um...sometimes I hear a noise, and it reminds me of..." I don't want to cry in front of some random stranger. So far, Dr. Kirsten hasn't been that impressive. But I guess he's a little more tolerable than some of the other therapists I've dealt with before. Some who insist I'm fine, some who are just after my money, and one asshole who just blamed all my problems on being a woman! The absolute nerve!

But Cheyenne recommends this guy, who she apparently saw for about a year after her Games. So he does know how to work with people like her and me.

"You hear something, which reminds you of a notable noise you heard in the arena?"
"Yes?" I curl up across his nice leather couch.
"And nightmares? When you have these nightmares, what's the most common thing you see?"

"I don't know...Troy, I think. And he always looks mad...he says it's my fault...that I...I..." No, no! Keep it together, VR! You're not gonna cry, you don't wanna cry...
Dr. Kirsten just waits a few seconds. He doesn't react at all. Maybe he's dealt with crazier patients before. But if he can handle Cheyenne, I'm a lot tamer by comparison.

"Have you always found some noises to be particularly uncomfortable? Before the Games, did they trigger panic attacks?"
"Um, no...not exactly...but I do hate it when..."
"When?"

I shiver. "When my dad, he...he tends to chew really really loud, I don't like when...when people do that...or when they smack their lips...it makes me uncomfortable..."
"So those are some of the sounds you're very sensitive to?"
"Yes? I don't know!"

Dr. Kirsten flips through his notes. "There was an incident your mother told me about where you punched a classmate in the face because he reportedly touched you in a way you didn't like. Now, I understand why you wouldn't care for this sort of behaviour, but witnesses did say it looked rather innocent. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"He...he jabbed his finger in my gut...he touched a scar and it hurt...I thought he was someone else."
"Is that a very sensitive area for you to be touched in? Do you feel uncomfortable with physical contact in general?"
"Some places are okay like one of my shoulders...but I don't like being touched in general...by random people..."

"Is this not a comfortable topic for you?"
"No." The waterworks have started and I can't seem to get it to stop. "Can we talk about something else?"

"If you want. But I do want to get to the root of why you're feeling this way. And I've talked with some of your past therapists to get a better insight as to who you are before you came into my office. I understand, it's hard talking about what makes you uncomfortable, especially for someone who's highly sensitive..."

Highly sensitive?

"Wait...you think I'm really...sensitive?"
"You appear to be overwhelmed by strong sensory inputs. You're very aware of the pain you feel and other people's emotions and feelings, as well as your own. Now, please understand that there's nothing wrong with this at all. Being a highly sensitive person is not necessarily a bad thing."

It does to me. Being a highly sensitive person, someone who's different, someone who is not the norm. And I've seen the way people react to me already.

"Sometimes, I feel like there might be something wrong with me. And it turns out I'm just really fucking sensitive."
'Well, if you keep viewing it in a negative light, then it will sound like a negative thing. But just know I'm willing to work through this with you, if you're willing to work with me."

Dr. Kirsten's voice sounds very gentle. I decided I'll give him a second chance.

"We're out of time, unfortunately. And I've got another client coming soon. Would you like to set another appointment?"
"Same time a week from now?"
"That sounds good to me."

Outside Dr. Kirsten's office, someone waits for me. "Hey VR."
"What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you."

I don't bother hiding my displeasure. She knows I'm not happy with her. I've heard the gossip she indulges in about me. The rotten looks she throws me way. And the past teasing and mocking she's done. So knowing she's back for more is just rubbing salt in the wound.

"I just want to apologize."
"For what?"
"For...stuff."

I shake my head. "An apology for 'stuff' isn't going to cut it."
"Than what should I say?"
"Take your time. I've got all day."

Sadie awkwardly rubs the back of her neck. "Alright, then. Fine. If I ever said anything to you that hurt your feelings, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry about doing it behind your back. It's not fair of me. And I never realized how much it absolutely hurt you. Is that good enough?"

It's not enough. There's still too much ground to cover, and I'm not in the mood to deal with any of this. But...it is a start.

"Honestly, I don't know what to say. But if you genuinely feel sorry, then I guess I have to accept it."
"You think we can try again? Like, actually being friends this time?"

Turns out, Sadie and I have a lot in common.

We both share a similar taste in humour and music. She's actually pretty funny, and oddly sympathetic, always very polite when asking about my arena experiences. And when Angie suggested my class work together to sponsor me something, Sadie was the one who suggested a basket of tomatoes. Looking back now, I suppose it was pretty funny.

Sometimes we hang out with our friends, but today, we're alone. We're sitting under a tree at one of the many shallow ponds in District 10. This one is unusually empty; there's no farmers bringing their cattle along for a drink or little children splashing around.

Sadie chucks a rock into the pond. "So, how do the fingers work? Is it like being part robot?"
"No. It's nothing special. Just feels weird."
"You totally have a robot hand."
"Do not!"

"Oi, Sadie! Whatcha up to?"
Sadie waves to a trio of boys standing on the other side of the pond. "Oh, hey guys!"
"Who's that?"

"Oh, they're just some classmates. That's Max, Linus, and Beau. Mind if they hang out with us?"

I'm not in a position to object and she knows it. Anyways, the boys are all pretty chill and cool guys to hang out with. Linus in particular is really funny. He and I hit it off right away. He tells me about his family's restaurant and invites us all to come over sometime. I wouldn't mind spending more time with him.

"Is it true you actually punched Boren Saummers in the face?"
I nervously flex my fingers. "He started it."
Linus gives me a weird smirk. "Good. About time someone put that asshole in his place."

Sadie won't stop grinning as she follows me home. "Don't they all look cute?"
"Uh...I guess they are? But I don't view them in that sense."
"Yeah right."
"Shut up."

Once I'm inside and Sadie and I have said our goodbyes, I mark down my next appointment with Dr. Kirsten on a calendar. He does seem like someone I can work with. Someone I'm willing to open up to. I'm willing to admit to him that the idea of being considered a highly sensitive person is a bit unnerving and I do need help after all.

It's a strange feeling.

But if I can get stabbed in the stomach twice, get my face cut open, my shoulder sliced up, lose two fingers, and walk out of it alive, then a little therapy isn't going to scare me.

A few weeks after the Games, VR is starting to settle back into routine, make some friends, and get some much needed therapy! Did the revelation of her being a highly sensitive person (HSP) surprise you? Do you think she and Sadie will be able to put aside their differences and get along? Or will it take them much longer?

One last epilogue left until we wrap this story up and the sequel drops!

-Vr