"I don't care anymore," I said. It was freeing, strangely enough. Knowing I no longer cared how long I lived made death that much easier. What was there worth living for here anyway? We lived in a world where our biggest celebration was the death of children. No one could overthrow the Capitol. They would be here forever and forever we would die.
"I know it's hard. It will get better with time," Wyatt said. Of course Wyatt would say that. He believed in things. He thought there was good in the world. Somehow he even saw it. He was a saint. People like him deserved better than Panem.
"Let's go back to camp. Things will get better," Wyatt said.
No, they won't get better, I knew. Wyatt couldn't make this right. Someone was going to find us eventually and they'd kill us. It was as simple as that. He turned and led the way back to camp. I stood up and picked a rock out of the pile of garbage beside us. I looked at it, then followed after Wyatt. As I came up behind him I smashed it into his head.
Wyatt fell to the ground and stared to his side with dazed eyes. I heard him trying to mutter something as I came up beside him. It was a mercy, what I was doing. The Careers would find him eventually. If it was Rapture or Margo they would toy with him before they finally let him die. I'd hit him hard enough he barely knew what was happening when I hit him again, killing him. He'd never have to find out how violent people could be.
It was the same with Myrtle. Death was coming for us all and it was useless trying to ignore it. At least I could make it quick. Next came Dominique. And when all of them were gone I thought I would kill myself. No Victor. No happy ending. There never had been either of them.
Sky was the last one left with me. I came at her with the pipe, wincing at the pain in my side when her bomb failed to go off entirely but still sent hot air into my ribs. I tried to make it easy but it was hard when she was struggling so much. Some of us still hadn't realized yet that there was no hope. It broke my heart that some of us still believed.
The hovercraft came for me before I could kill the last Tribute. They dragged me to the Capitol and filled me with medicines and machines so I couldn't die. I only realized then how far the Capitol could go. It wasn't enough for them to take away any chance at happiness. They wouldn't even let us die. I sat through a replay of the Games watching myself kill half a dozen Tributes. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to care.
It was Toby who suggested I try therapy. He said I was depressed and withdrawn. If you asked me that was just how people should be but he was a mentor so I listened to him. It proved to be my salvation and my damnation.
I was depressed, as it turned out. At first I took the offered pills because I didn't care enough to refuse. But as the weeks went by I found that I had first a wave of energy and second a sense of relief. It was like I'd been sick for as long as I could remember and could finally exist like everyone else had been doing all along. There were a lot of problems with Panem and the treatment didn't make those go away. Instead what I discovered was what Wyatt had been able to see. It was possible to see positive things in this world, even among all the suffering.
It was a whole new world, working through my feelings with my therapist. I found myself able to appreciate my life and actually enjoy some of my time on this planet. I didn't think I would ever be a particularly happy person but for the first time I had the ability to be happy at all. But even in all that progress I found a new pain. Once I'd gained the ability to enjoy life I spent the next long years forgiving myself for how many lives I'd ended.