Hey everyone, thanks for reading this far! The story is nearly over now; a few more chapters to go. I'll be taking a bit of a hiatus from this story; three papers are due for university, and that's my main focus. I won't be long, I promise!

Take care of yourselves, and see you sometime in the next month (Hopefully!)

Chapter 80- Astrid Clearwater

"There! You're all finished!"

Sparkle reaches out to grab my shoulder, but I pull away before she can touch me. This is the end of the Tour; I don't have to care about her and her empty-minded prep team anymore. I'll never have to handle her again. She won't be my problem after tonight.

"Take a look in the mirror!" Spila claps her hands and beams at me. Her smile is real at least, unlike the rest of Panem; their false smiles will drop as soon as the cameras turn off tonight.

I don't care.

"It's the best one yet," Sparkle says, and she adjusts my sleeve before I can pull away again.

Don't touch me.

I finally look up and into the mirror; it's not the best one; blue silk was, is, the best, but this dress is beautiful too. Rose colored satin down to the tops of my feet, with a belt of holly and berries at my waist. Shoes that match exactly, and my hair is loose with holly and red ribbons woven into it.

"It's beautiful," I say, smiling at Sparkle, but I can feel that wire choking me again, wrapping around my throat until I can't breathe.

I can't shatter.

I won't.

But the berries around my waist; they're too like the berries in the bouquet from District 7.

Elowyn's haunting me in the daytime, and drowning me at night.

"Supper time, and the cameras are ready for you, Astrid!" Delia Charm is almost singing when she walks into the room. Does she ever take off that wig? I still wonder if she got it wet if it would melt. "Oh, Astrid, you're beautiful!"

"Thank you," I say, and smile at her too. One last night of smiling, then I don't have to ever again. I can just stay under the covers with my bouquet and my shell and my knife, until they drag me back to the Capitol in the summer.

I'll kill anyone who comes into the house.

"When can I go home?" I ask, running my hands down the sides of my skirt. There's a smooth hole in the right side, and when I reach into it, it's a pocket.

"After the party tonight," Delia says, distracted by the fact that her high heels are firmly lodged in the thick, deep carpet.

They haven't let me go home, or see Mama and Axel, or do anything. They took me off the train and put me in the mayor's house last night, and I've been here since. Just another prison within a prison. The mayor's house is in District 3, which is in Panem, which is controlled by the Capitol, and I'm trapped no matter where I am.

I said no to being sold to the Capitol, and they own me anyway.

I'm fine.

No weakness.

"Your last big night!" Delia says, pulling her right foot out of the carpet and stepping back into the hardwood hallway. "It's so exciting!" She rips her other foot out and totters backwards, still beaming at me.

"It is." I smile at her back, and start to follow her out into the hallway, after Sparkle and my prep team go out ahead of me.

But before I go after them completely, I grab my bag that I carried off the train and start searching through it; my shell, my bouquet, pajamas I wore last night. Then I find what I'm looking for, wrapped in a scarf I found in my wardrobe before I left my room.

"Astrid!"

"I'm coming!" Quickly, I wrap the scarf around it tighter, so that it won't be obvious.

I slip the knife into my pocket.

I'm not confused. I'm fine.

My head hurts.

I'm fine.

Fine.

"How does it feel being home?"

"The Tour's been an amazing experience, but I'm very glad to be back in District 3, and I'm sure they're just as happy to have me back."

It's not a lie.

I'm in control. My head is on straight, and I'm thinking through the sharp pains that keep shooting through my temples.

The arena isn't ever going to go away. Not when I see it every night; not when I feel the concussion it gave me every day.

But, for some insane reason, I keep thinking about that last night with the three of us in the alliance, when we looked up at the stars. When Tilling said the stars would guide her home.

There are no stars in District 3, and this has never been home.

I'll never see the stars again.

"What are you planning to do now?"

I turn to face the other cameraman, and smile at him too. "It's been a long two weeks! I'm going to lie down for a while."

A few people at the table laugh, but it sounds forced. I glance over at them, and meet my mother's eyes instead. She's smiling at me, but her smile is real. My mother.

All I've ever given her is pain.

She can't ever know what President Snow offered me.

She can't.

I can't hurt her again.

Axel's bouncing next to her; he lost one of his front teeth while I was gone, and now he has a gap-toothed grin. He got his teeth late, and now he's losing them late too.

They'll never hurt my brother.

"What are your plans for the next year?"

"I'm planning on applying to the University here." The red light on the camera blinks, and it reminds me of being on camera the whole time in the arena. My hand finds my pocket automatically, smoothing the satin over the slight lump.

I killed Circuit with a knife.

I'm not sorry.

I'm fine.

"So you're looking to follow in your mentor's footsteps."

No. Never. I'll never follow in Beetee's lying, deceiving, indispensable footsteps. "I'm going to make my path my own."

My path leading straight into my house and never leaving it. Blue silk and soft covers; that's all I need.

They can't kill me and I can't kill them if I never leave Victor's Village.

I'm not weak.

I'm unbreakable.

"A toast to Astrid Clearwater, our newest victor!"

I'm reading the mayor, and he's less than enthusiastic, but the Capitol won't notice. The idiots in the costumes anyway; President Snow will see right through the façade. The fire is wrapping around my knees tonight; he's going to be watching me. He is watching me.

I'm not weak. He offered me a living death, and I turned him down. I'll prove to him that he didn't break me; that he didn't affect me. Just like that day in the rain didn't affect me; like the arena didn't break me either.

I'm stronger than his threats, because he never won the Games.

No weakness.

"To Astrid Clearwater!" The rest of the table raises their glasses too; I can hear Axel's toothless lisp overtop of all the other voices. He's on my left, and when I look right, I lock eyes with Beetee.

I haven't seen him properly since I almost killed him in the Capitol. Does he know?

He lied to me. He should be dead.

But he was proud of me for leaving the arena. I know he was.

What is going on inside his head?

I don't care.

Everyone's putting their glasses down and standing up, so I get up too; the chair moves over top of my skirt and almost tears the fabric, but I get the chair leg off in time.

It's not blue silk, but I don't want to destroy this dress either. The berries, though; I want to throw them out of the window so I don't have to see them again. I don't need Elowyn watching me from her cold District 7 grave; I don't need her reminders.

The bouquet stays, though.

"Astrid."

"Mama." The cameras are still rolling, so the party isn't over yet, but I hug my mother anyway. It hurts, but I can't hurt her again. She hugs me back, tight, and it feels almost like it did when I was younger, before the Games; when District 3 was the only place that hated me.

"You looked beautiful on the Tour," Mama says, and pulls back to smooth my hair. "You look beautiful tonight too."

"It's all over tonight," I say, and manage a real smile. "Then we can go home."

"What was the Capitol like?" Axel asks, so I crouch down to look at him in the eyes.

"It's lit up, even at night, and there are cars everywhere. Everyone looks like they're wearing a costume all the time."

"Really?"

"The food is the best you'll ever have, I promise."

"When I get grown up, I'm going to go to the Capitol too!" Axel says, and throws his arms around me. I feel my mother's eyes boring into me, but I won't look up.

I hope Axel never sees the Capitol.

"Astrid," Mama starts, then breaks off as I unhook Axel from my shoulders and stand up.

"Mama."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart." Mama brushes a piece of my hair behind my ear, and it feels like I'm choking, like that wire is around my throat again, but I don't move. "For everything you've done."

"Thank you," I whisper. Axel is holding onto Mama's hand now, and poking a finger through the hole in his mouth with his other hand.

"Tell me about the other districts!" Axel says.

"At home." I'll tell him about them, and then I'll forget the districts too.

"Over here, Astrid," Delia sings out, clacking towards me, but she doesn't touch me. She learned that on the Tour at least. "The cameras just have a few more questions for you!"

"I'll be right back," I say to my mother and Axel.

"They'll be waiting at home for you. Come along, Astrid!"

"What about Beetee?" I ask. I don't care about him, but I want to know where he's going. If he's going to leave me behind.

I don't care.

"He's going home too. Come!" Delia's voice is edging into irritance.

"I'll see you at home," I say, and Mama nods, smiling at me.

"I'll make tea."

"Alright."

Delia's almost grabbing me by the arm, so I follow her over to the cameras, looking back just once to see a few officials, I don't know, offering their arms to Axel and my mother.

"What are your thoughts on your first year mentoring?"

"I'm looking forward to seeing who I'm going to make a victor."

I'm not. District 3 isn't going to get another victor for a long time, so I won't ever get attached. Beetee didn't. I know he didn't.

My tributes are going to live or die no matter what I do, so why does it matter if I care about them? They're not my allies. I won without Beetee; if they're weak, they won't win.

I don't care.

I wasn't weak.

I'm fine.

"You'll be a fabulous mentor!" Another camera points towards me, so I smile at it too.

"I hope so, Panem. I hope so."

"We'll see you in July!"

Delia's sitting in the seat next to the one I've just left; the black car door open to say her goodbyes. They didn't even drive into Victor's Village; they're dropping me at the gate.

"In July," I say, nodding. The cameras are off; Victor's Village is dark, except for the streetlamps lighting the road through the houses.

"Goodbye!" Delia sings out, closes the door, and the car drives away, leaving me standing in my rose dress, with fur boots on my feet and a coat around my shoulders. It's snowing softly; I can feel the cold flakes on my forehead-

Her knife carving through my forehead.

No. I'm fine. I have the knife, not Agrippina.

She's dead. I'm not.

The snow crunches under my feet as I walk towards my house. I can see Beetee's windows lit up, but my house is dark. Did they go to bed? Mama would have waited up for me. She said she was making tea.

The fire is burning through the snow; wrapping around my fingers as I pull the knife out of my pocket and unwrap it from the scarf. I stuff the scarf back into my pocket haphazardly, just as I reach my front door.

Why is it dark?

The door's open when I turn the handle with my left hand, my right gripping the knife so tightly it hurts.

I'm fine. I'm not weak.

I'm in control.

"Mama?"

Silence. The house is dark; maybe they did go to bed. Maybe the interviews took longer than I thought they did. "Mama?"

I kick off my boots and turn on the hall light; it shines into the living room, casting a yellow glow on the furniture.

"Mama? Are you awake? Mama?"

I can see her sitting on the sofa, but her back is to me. "Mama?"

The house feels like it's watching me as I take quiet steps around the corner, rounding the edge of the couch. "Mama?"

I see Axel first. Still.

Mama-

I-

I see Axel and my mother, still, sitting upright on the couch, staring straight ahead.

Red rings around their necks.

Wire, wire, wire-

Choking-

No.

I-

No.

I, I, I'm in control. I-

I look away from them, because I don't believe it; it's not real.

My eyes fall on the coffee table, where a white rose is lying, its petals facing me.

And I break.

Cold, cold; my feet are cold, but I'm running, where am I running-

Glass pieces at the bottom of my head; can't pick them up-

I'm pounding on a door, don't know where-

Mama. Axel. No.

The door opens and I fall forward; someone pries the knife from my hand and drops it behind them.

"Astrid."

I can't-

"It's my fault. It's all my fault. It's my fault!" I'm breaking, but he doesn't care; nobody cares.

It's my fault.

"Astrid," Beetee Latier says again, and he's grabbing me by the shoulders, but I don't care, I don't care.

"Beetee," I get out, then I start to sob into my hands. "It's my fault."

Mama, Axel-

"It's my fault," I whisper as my thoughts finally shatter around my feet, and I can't pick them up.

"Astrid," Beetee says, it's the only thing he can say, but I don't care.

"I killed them," I choke. "I killed them."

Everything shatters, everything, and I'm gone, I'm gone; I'm burning, and the fire is consuming me-

It's all my fault.

Someone's crying, a high-pitched keening sound, and for a moment I think it's Elowyn, but it's me, it's me, it's me, and it's my fault; I killed them, I killed them all, and it's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault, because they're all dead, because I killed them-

The scream that's been locked inside me finally explodes, and I scream and scream until Victor's Village echoes, but I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, my fault, my fault, my fault; I scream until the world turns black around the edges of my vision; black dots dancing in front of my eyes and knives stabbing through my head.

Then the black bores into my eyes and I disappear.