Goodbyes: Child

District Seven:

Brenton "Brett" Lamotte's POV:

Michael, our escort, half-heartedly announced our names one final time. He barely motioned for the crowd to clap. His response was silence so sharp that it could draw blood. District Seven was full of strict and hardworking citizens. They were loyal until the end, and that included sending their tributes off. They almost always refused to pretend they were excited or enthused about the events happening in front of them. Michael shrugged and waved the cameras away. They slowly powered down and the Peacekeepers marched up to me.

I barely had a second to find Daria in the shifting audience before I was being roughly led towards the Justice Building. Every step was a struggle now that the cameras were off. My knees buckled and the Peacekeepers grips were iron shackles around my arms. They were practically dragging me to force me to stay at their fast pace. I was ushered into the quaint building and led down a simple hallway. Everything in District Seven was just that: simple. Nothing was supposed to be overly complicated. You worked, you ate, and you slept. You survived and (if you still had time) pursued things you loved. It was the life I was accustomed to.

Not the complete chaos that was the Hunger Games.

They led me into a small room and shut the door. They motioned for me to sit in one of the sturdy, wooden chairs. I sat obediently and waited. I bounced my leg up and down as my eyes flicked around the room. The Peacekeepers were used to strong tributes. I couldn't remember any tributes fighting to escape… But I supposed I wouldn't have known. They never would have announced that information. It would have fed the anti-Capitol propaganda that was evident throughout this district.

My eyes flitted up to their distrusting eyes. It was odd to remember that I looked like one of those strong, intimidating tributes to them. Part of me wondered if I could play that up… That's what you did in the games, right? You played a part and hoped to survive past the Bloodbath. I was tall, three inches over six feet, and had hardened muscles from working out in the woods. Not everyone worked in the forest, but a good majority did. If your family was part of the lumber industry, like mine, or you were poor, then the odds were you spent hours doing manual labor in the wild. There were plenty of trees to cut, and this business could never have too many people working in it.

The door opened after several minutes, and I looked up hopefully. Relief and joy flooded through me as Daria entered the room. Her black hair was in disarray and her dark brown eyes were wet with tears. I stood up and encompassed her lithe frame in my arms. Her regular smell of honey and dirt was the most comforting thing I could have thought of in this second. I didn't ever want this moment to end. If I could have been frozen in this fracture in time forever, I would have been perfectly happy.

"I can't believe this is happening," she gasped out. She pushed at my chest lightly, and I let go. She grasped my face and tilted my chin towards her. I saw my reflection in her eyes. It was the same reflection I had always seen in the mirror since I was a little kid. No matter how I changed on the outside, I wasn't intimidating or dangerous. I wasn't even sure if was strong. I was just a curious child. I only cared about being with the people I loved… I wanted to protect them and make them happy… How was I supposed to hide that, along with my aching heart, in the Hunger Games?

More importantly, how was I going take care of them now?

"I feel so stupid," Daria cried as she wiped her eyes and walked away from me.

"What?" I asked, not following her sudden train of thought.

"Why didn't I plan the wedding sooner? Why did I wait?" she shook her head as she cried.

"For this reason," I stated, "In case one of us was reaped."

I remembered the day I proposed to Daria vividly. I had snuck away from the lumber crew and met her in a secluded meadow. She was waiting with bags of fresh honeycomb that she had collected that day. It wasn't uncommon for us to sneak off and explore parts of the woods together. We were always told it was dangerous due to wild animals and stray muttations. In all our years of exploring, we never saw any hazards. I always assumed it was thanks to the Mutt Hunters, but Daria once whispered maybe it was just a tactic to scare us. It was something I never thought of and something we never discussed again.

I dragged her deeper into the woods and, eventually, pointed out a hollowed tree. She observed it and peered into a small hole. I told her to reach in, and she slapped me playfully. Daria wasn't a fan of creepy crawlers, and she bet the inside of that tree was infested with them. I told her it would be ok and pressured her until she conceded. She felt around, and her face blanched. She pulled out a ring and immediately started crying.

It was one of my fondest memories.

"I thought it would hurt less," she whispered once the tears died down, "For both of us… Now I wish that were just married."

"It doesn't matter," I murmured into her hair as I hugged her, "I love you with all my heart and being legally married wouldn't add or take away from that. All that matters is right now."

She looked up at me with her doe eyes and grabbed the back of my neck. She drew me into a deep kiss. I wanted to close my eyes and lose myself in the sensation like I had so many times before… But I couldn't force them shut. If I even blinked, I was terrified she would disappear. I couldn't stand the thought of being away from her…

Fate didn't care about what I could stand.

"Times up."

Daria broke the kiss. She grabbed my hand, placed an object in my palm, and closed it.

"Come back. Please."

She stepped back, and the Peacekeepers motioned for her to leave. I wanted to reach out and grab her. I wanted to pull her close and tell them to leave… Tell them that my time couldn't be up… That once she left it would mean this was all real. What was happening to me would be real!

But I wasn't brave enough to argue with the Peacekeepers. I wasn't brash enough to sweep her up in my arms and never let go. I wasn't extraordinary enough to cause a scene. I was just me… And all I could do was stand frozen and watch her walk away. When she reached the entryway, she paused.

"I love you."

With those three words, the door closed. Although she was still only feet away, it felt like miles. We might has well been on different planets. I slumped back into one of the chairs and tried to compose myself. I opened my palm and saw it was her engagement ring. I blinked back the tears as I slid the ring onto my pinky finger. I was filled with doubt and heartache. She asked me to come back to her, but I couldn't do that… Every year I saw the people that survived the Hunger Games. They were strong, smart, or beautiful. They stood out and shone brightly in some aspect. They were Victors… Something I knew I could never be.

Suddenly, a slamming door interrupted my thoughts.

"I can't believe this is happening!"

The same words that were vocalized only minutes earlier by my soft-spoken fiancée were repeated with a resounding boom by my firecracker sister. Lucia stormed in and placed Jo roughly on the couch. The toddler bounced obliviously as she stroked the soft fabric. Lucia had always been wild. She never took orders from anyone, especially my parents, and did whatever she wanted. My dad wanted her to work in the woodshop. Nope, she signed up to drag lumber in the forest. Mom wanted her to study hard and possibly score an apprenticeship with a more prestigious line of work. Not going to happen. Lucia decided to attend any and all parties.

Even I wasn't surprised when she ended up pregnant at sixteen.

"This is bullshit," she cursed, something she rarely did in front of Jo. She turned to one of the Peacekeepers and yelled, "You know he turns nineteen in a couple weeks, right. The fact he is even eligible to be reaped is stupid!"

The Peacekeepers stared down at her without even the slightest twinge. She huffed in exasperation and began to pace. After she announced her pregnancy, she moved out. She got a tiny apartment for her and her upcoming baby and took a less labor intensive job. My parents didn't even force her to leave. She stated she was done with their expectations and wouldn't let her child be pushed around by them. I still wasn't sure Lucia made the right decision, but I knew she had solid reasons. My parents had always tried to mold us to their standards. Dad wanted Lucia to be a respectable, quiet girl and for me to be an eloquent, successful man. Lucia fought against it at every turn, whereas I gave in. It didn't seem worth the guilt trips and fights to rebel against something that was meant to better myself.

Lucia slumped onto the couch across from me and sighed. One thing I loved about my sister was how similar we were at our cores. We both acted like big children. We were easily excited, easily amazed, and easily entertained. The difference was where I tried to hide it at times, she accepted it. She had no problem admitting when she didn't know something and was never afraid of sounding foolish. She embraced her mood swings and temper tantrums, as well as loved everything about herself. If others didn't like it, too bad for them. Lucia refused to change for anybody... Except her daughter.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, observing me carefully as she picked up Jo and held her in her lap.

"As well as you could expect," I murmured, happy for my sister's commanding and distracting presence.

"I would have come in sooner, but I had to track down Mom and Dad."

I gulped, knowing the few times Lucia and my parents spoke each year never ran smoothly. I could only imagine in the state she was in that they managed to get into some needless fight. She most likely approached them aggressively and my dad followed suit. In our teen years, screaming matches between the two of them was common while my mom and I stood on the sidelines.

"Are they coming?" I asked, suddenly nervous that they weren't. I hadn't ever thought about what it would be like going into the Hunger Games, let alone who would come say farewell. If anyone wouldn't show up, it would be them. Lucia wasn't the only one who moved out as soon as they could. When I was seventeen, I realized I could never be the son my dad wanted… Because I could never be him. His micromanaging finally became too much, and I had a meltdown rivaling Lucia's tantrums. It ended up with me packing my bags and heading straight to Lucia's apartment. By then, she had moved to a slightly nicer place and had an extra room that became mine. Afterwards, I never looked back. I frequently visited both of them and spent far more time with them than Lucia, but in the end I abandoned them too. It was something I never thought would come back to haunt me.

Before she could answer, the door opened and my parents entered. Dad was red faced and sweating like a hog, while my mom seemed jittery. Several Peacekeepers entered behind them with a look of contempt on their faces. I stood up as they walked in and, without hesitation, Mom marched up to me. She enveloped me in her arms and squeezed tightly. She had never been one for words, but she didn't need to be. She had always been my silent ally. While Dad had his own selfish agendas and Lucia was a wildcard, Mom had always been the dependable one. She was always there for me, regardless of what was going on in our lives. When I moved out, she didn't appear the slightest bit angry. She was as supportive as she could be… Even when Daria moved in with me before marriage. While Dad lost his mind, Mom sat stoically and didn't argue. She accepted my choice and moved on.

"I'll be right here waiting for you."

She stepped back with tears in her eyes. I looked to my dad to see him huffing and puffing. I had no idea what kept them, but I had a feeling whatever it was frustrated him to no end. He seemed peeved beyond compare. I never enjoyed my dad's frustration and anger like Lucia did. In fact, I spent years of my life doing all I could to keep him away from it. Eventually, I realized it was a core part of him. He would always find something to be angry about or try to perfect. Just like he couldn't change his children, we couldn't change him… I wished I had been able to convey this lesson to either of them, but I knew they would continue to feud long after these games were over… After I was over…

"These Peacekeepers are incorrigible," he growled, "They herd us out of the town center right after our son was reaped. Then they have the audacity to refuse to let us in until 'those that signed up first get their time with the reaped'. Complete and utter insanity!"

For my dad, that was practically a declaration of love.

"I'm just glad you managed to come in time," I stated gratefully.

"Barely," he muttered as he straightened his jacket and wiped his face.

We held eye contact with each other for several seconds. I didn't know what I wanted from him. I gave up wanting anything from him years ago… Yet, there was this expectation. He was obligated by tradition to leave me with memorable parting words. He knew it, and I knew it.

"I can't promise you that it's going to be ok," he said honestly after a minute. He walked closer and clapped his hand on my shoulder, "But what I can promise is that you have people back home rooting for you… You're my son. That means you have some fight in you."

His words shocked me. Dad wasn't one for encouragement. If you did something right, you didn't deserve praise because it was expected of you. These few sentences… I hadn't realized how much I needed them until they were out in the universe.

I hadn't realized how much they meant to me.

We only had time for a few more tearful moments before the Peacekeepers escorted my family out of the room. The last glimpse I had of them was of Jo's ignorant eyes. She had no clue what was going on or of the troubles that surrounded her. She was in her own little world where no one could harm her. I couldn't help but envy that childish oblivion. I longed to go back to it…

As I depressurized from all the emotions that were raging through my body, the door opened again. For a split second, I was confused. Who else had been allowed to come see me off? My confusion was slightly abated as Streak, the Victor of the 224th Hunger Games, stepped into the room. His entire demeanor was shy, but somehow confidant. I remembered his games. I was amazed as I watched him leap from trees and skewer tribute's necks with his spear. He used stealth and surprise to annihilate a third of the competition. He was the silent killer. The reason tributes dropped like flies.

"Hey, Brenton," he smiled as he sat across from me, "My name is Streak and I'm your mentor."

He mentioned this as if it was a normal event; like we were two guys meeting at a pub after work.

"Hello," I mumbled, unsure how to respond.

"I'm assuming that was your family I passed by," he said sympathetically, "They seem like a nice bunch."

I shrugged, still uncertain. It was surreal to be having a normal conversation with a victor. They always felt like untouchable creatures. You occasionally saw them in town and they were plastered across the television screen, but you never addressed them. It was taught in District Seven to leave the victors alone. We were told they had been through enough and didn't need us pestering them with questions or comments. All they wanted was to be left alone.

"I get it, you don't want to talk right now," he piped up, filling the silence, "After I was reaped, I didn't talk to anyone until the next day. In fact, I don't think I ever said more than a sentence to my district partner."

"Then why are you here?"

"New rules. The Capitol tributes get to meet with their mentors after their goodbyes, so it's only fair to us that we get to do the same."

"Seems pretty pointless to me. Nothing we can talk about now that wouldn't hold until later."

"There is one thing. How are you going to present yourself when you walk out of here in a few minutes?"

"Huh?" I grunted.

"You held yourself together when you were reaped. I'm assuming you're going to continue that streak."

"What streak?"

"Stoic, strong, put together."

I couldn't stop myself from chuckling. Streak quirked his head and I explained, "All things I'm not."

"Then you better become them and quickly too."

I shook my head. He didn't understand. You couldn't just change who you were in the span of a week.

"You have people here you care about, right?"

Daria's pained face flashed into my mind first. Then my sister's outraged expression along with my mother's tears. Even my father's flushed skin passed through my mind.

"Then you got to toughen up. If you want to come back, you have to leave who you are back in District Seven. That's what I did. If I kept my humanity going into the games, I would have never survived."

Streak smiled and pushed himself to his feet. He said this as if it was the easiest thing to do in the world. He seemed so carefree and lighthearted.

"How did you get it back?"

His smile never left as he shrugged, "I didn't. Survival comes with a price."

He began to walk to the entryway, and I followed suit. He may have been able to erase who he was, but I knew I couldn't. I might be able to act like someone else, but become someone else? I didn't know how to do it… Even for Daria. I knew one thing. I could fight for Daria. I could kill for Daria… But could I do that and continue to be myself? As we passed through the door, one mental image popped up in my mind again. Jo's sweet expression and joyful eyes.

All I truly wanted was to keep the shattered pieces of my happy, childish world together for a little while longer.

Athanasia "Athan" Harvay's POV:

Have you ever looked at someone else and felt as though you were gazing in a mirror?

How about that, but add hundreds upon hundreds of people?

Every face I stared at seemed to reflect mine. Indifferent, emotionless, stubbornly apathetic expressions filled the audience. Some varied in the amount they held, but they were all the same. Stoic statues stood rigidly as the Capitol finished its little show. Then, once the curtains were drawn, they began to move once again. They came to life and became a flurry of limbs and movement… But their demeanor remained unchanged.

I glanced to my right to see that my district partner's behavior had changed drastically. Before, he was put together. If he had been able to move his mouth and actually speak, some may have seen him as coyly charming. He had the smallest of smirks that made him somewhat interesting to look at. Plus he was a head taller than me, and I was a pretty willowy girl. He seemed like he was confidant, which was intimidating to most people. Now, he was just a mess. He was frantically craning his neck in search of something. The Peacekeepers grabbed him and roughly directed him towards the Justice Building. I felt the beginning of a grip on my shoulder and shrugged it off. I glared at the closest Peacekeeper before I began marching after the others. I didn't need to be manhandled by a bunch of strangers right now.

The last thing I saw of my district partner was him being dragged down a hallway. He was stumbling about, and I could see the tears forming in his eyes as he struggled to breathe right.

What a shame he turned out to be so pathetic.

I waited for a Peacekeeper to direct me towards a room before I continued to move. They directed me in. It was fairly bare and uninteresting. A soft looking couch was placed in front of a wooden coffee table and two hard chairs. I grabbed one of the light chairs and moved it next to the window. I sat down and watched the Peacekeepers out of the corner of my eye. I didn't trust them, but I also didn't mind if they were here. It wasn't like I was going to have many visitors, if any.

Most people didn't trust the Peacekeepers because they were… well… Peacekeepers. I just didn't trust people, period. I had learned pretty early on that people fall into one of two categories. Some people were weak. You could never trust them because you could never depend on them. They would fail you at every turn, and you would end up carrying their weight. Then other people were strong. You couldn't trust these people either because they would eventually try to crush you. They would want to get stronger or get more power, and would screw you over to do so. Since the dawn of time people fell into one of these two groups. The strong could crush the weak or use them for their own agenda. The weak could band together and attempt to take out some of the strong. People were valuable, but meant to be trusted? Not by a longshot. You always had to watch out for yourself.

I learned this lesson from a young age. My pops was weak. When I was only ten, he became really ill. I quit school because my ma couldn't feed three mouths with only her income. All our collective pay went into food and the extra was used for his medicine. All that medicine did shit for him. He died a little under a year later, and by then we were in debt to the apothecary. I couldn't go back to school, and instead worked endless hours for them. They would have probably worked me to death if I hadn't decided to force them to get rid of me.

Once I threatened one of their best customers with a knife, they were forced to let me go.

After that, I started to work out in the woods with Ma. At that point, there was no reason to go back to school. I started off collecting all the fallen twigs and brush that the lumber crews left behind. Once I collected it, I would take it back to the weavers like Ma who would bundle them up for shipping. Eventually, I hit puberty and started to drag bigger twigs back. While the lumber crew chopped down the trees, I was a part of the group who would lug the massive trunks back to the lumber mills. I was built for it too with my height and long arms.

Most people might have hated working from such a young age and then living in a rundown shack located near the edge of the district. Not me. I never had much time, so I learned to value peace and quiet. These were two things humans were the exact opposite of. I had no problem staying far away from everyone else. Who needed social activities when you could mediate out in the woods or forage for food and find new ways to cook it?

I stared at the reflection in the window as someone entered the room. Ma walked in and sat firmly on the other chair.

"I wasn't sure you would come."

"Of course I would."

"I thought you might have work."

"This is an understandable reason to be a little bit late."

Ma and I weren't close in the typical mother-daughter sense. If anything, we were more like roommates. Half the time when I was home she was at work and vice versa. I vaguely remembered the mother she used to be. She was overbearingly doting and constantly fretting over everything. She did laugh quite a bit though, and she was frequently sitting on Pops other leg when I sat on his lap. I definitely got my build from Pops. He was tall and strong, while Ma was short and very thin. When Pops became sick, her fussing became worse and she slowly began to change. By the time he died, she was a completely different woman. She wasn't cold or mean, just distant. She kept everyone at bay to protect herself. In the end, I now thought it was the smartest thing she could have ever done for herself. If she had continued to be the fretting and doting mother, what would have happened to her once I was reaped? She would have been crushed and alone… I don't think she could have handled it. Plus, I wouldn't be who I am today.

A girl who can handle whatever life throws at her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"There's no point in getting upset over what happened. I can only look forward and work towards getting out of this alive."

She nodded, not needing any further explanation. If anyone understood moving on, it was her. Once something like this happened, you could never go back. Your life as you knew it was over. You had to accept what it was now so that you could handle it. If you tried to go back, life would leave you behind in the process.

And that was a best case scenario. Usually you would die.

"Do you have any idea what you're going to do?"

"Kill, I guess. Isn't that the point of the games?"

I saw her flinch slightly at the word. As distant as she was, Ma wasn't hardened. She still cared about people in her own, warped way. I had figured out that her keeping me away from others was a way of showing her love. She didn't want anyone else to hurt or leave me ever again. She thought making me self-reliant and alone would do just that… And she was right. No one had ever been able to hurt me. No one ever got the chance.

"I'd try to give you some advice, but I think you're better equipped for this than I am," she chuckled quietly as she messed with her hands. It was a gesture I hadn't seen her do in many years. I turned away from the window and stared right into her eyes. They were the same steely grey as mine. The same honey brown hair was pulled back against our heads. Sometimes I forgot how similar we were. We started off as the same people, and changed to similar humans too. We went from dependent girls to strong women. Others may have seen her as a bad mother, but she did the one thing no one else could have.

She taught me how to survive.

"You'll be ok," I stated.

She stared right back as bewilderment crossed her face, "What?"

"Whether I win or die, you'll be fine."

She seemed taken aback, but nodded. There was a tiny part of me that wanted to tell her to get out more. I wanted to suggest going to the market or visiting the town square more than once a year. The tiniest sliver of me wanted to leave with the hope that the mother I once knew could come back. But I didn't. I had no right to tell her how to live. It would be pointless. It was never possible to go back.

The Peacekeepers marched in and announced it was Ma's time to leave. She stood up and walked towards me. She placed her hand on my shoulder, and I raised mine to cover it. We both squeezed lightly and smiled at one another. This was as close as we got. Any closer and it would begin to hurt. I didn't want to think about how this might be the last time I would see the woman who gave birth to me. I didn't want to imagine being stuck in a city full of oppressors and away from the woods. I didn't want to accept that I was now trapped.

I watched her walk away. I wanted to turn towards the window, but my eyes couldn't leave her retreating figure. She walked through the door. It slammed behind her with a thud.

She never once looked back.

I rubbed a single, forming tear from my eye as I spun back to my original position. Nothing spectacular happened as time flowed by. Dax, a man I spent time with out of desperation, didn't visit. Some long lost relative didn't sweep in with a deep, dark family secret. No one came to whisk me away or tell me something world shattering. I was simply left alone with my thoughts…. Something I was perfectly comfortable with.

The restful silence was crushed when the door hit the wall so hard it sounded like a gun shot. My heart exploded, and I jumped in my chair.

"We'll have to work on your poise," a voice stated as it bounded across the room.

I turned around to see Beth, one of District Seven's victors, pounce onto the couch. She stared at me intensely with a large smirk on her face.

"I like you already."

I raised my eyebrow, and she answered my unspoken question, "Last year's girl was too sentimental and the boy was insane. The year before that, the girl was too soft and the boy was head over heels for another tribute. You, though… You seem just right."

"How so?"

"You're tough. You don't care what others think of you and have no problem stepping on them."

"Cool," I replied as I turned back to the window.

"Ooh, I like that. Quiet, but also rude. You may want to watch that when you interact with other tributes… We'll have to find you an ally-"

"No allies," I interrupted.

"None?" she asked, "Are you sure about that?"

Her question bothered me slightly. It was as if she was saying I couldn't do this alone.

"Streak won his games without a single ally."

"Can you remain undetected for days and silently pick off your enemies one by one?"

I refused to back down as I hissed, "I guess we'll find out."

"Maybe you shouldn't get any allies. If you treat them like this, they'll slit your throat."

I bit my tongue, refusing to respond. I barely knew this woman, and she was already in my face. She acted like she knew what was best without even knowing a single thing about me. Not that I was ever going to tell her. As a matter of fact, I didn't even want her 'advice'. If she was going to boss me around, I didn't want anything to do with her.

"I'm already starting to remember why I didn't like this quiet thing. It makes it so much harder to get places."

When I didn't respond, she sighed and stood up. She picked up a glass vase and inspected it. Without even looking, she chucked it right at me. I jumped up and skidded to my left. It smashed against the wall and broke into pieces. I glared at her as she laughed wildly. I remembered people calling her our resident psycho, but I never thought it held any merit. If you won the Hunger Games, you were bound to pick up a few quirks. Attacking a tribute in front of two Peacekeepers was not a quirk. They both looked shocked, but didn't move. Beth continued to laugh and picked up another object. I stepped to the left as she threw it and scowled at her.

I was not dealing with this bullshit right now.

I picked up the chair I was previously sitting on and raised it over my head. Beth's eyes widened as her laughter escalated. I chucked it right at her head, and she ducked at the last second effortlessly. As I reached for a paperweight off a shelf, she squealed, "There it is! There's some emotion!"

I threw it at her. When she sidestepped it, the weight flew past her and slammed against the opening door.

"You have some fight in you. You'll do what it takes to survive, something other tributes lack."

By now, my bullshit meter was full. I didn't care if she was a lunatic or if this was some sort of sick test or both! I had just been reaped at the age of sixteen to fight for my life against people far stronger than me. Dealing with this overgrown child was not a part of the package.

As I chucked a random book at her, I felt someone shove me against the wall. I looked to my right to see Streak forcing my hands above my head as he yelled, "What is going on in here?"

"I'm just testing one of our new tributes," Beth laughed as the Peacekeepers stood on either side of her. They seemed afraid to be that close, let alone touch her.

"Just like you tested Jacquie last year by throwing a knife at her! What did I tell you about these tests of yours!"

"You weren't around to enforce anything," she shrugged as she picked up a broken leg of the chair.

"I am now! Guys, get Beth to the train in one piece. I'll take care of the tributes."

They seemed unsure as Streak growled, "Now."

Beth laughed half-heartedly as she bounced out of the room. They followed her, and I noticed my district partner was standing near the doorway in shock.

"Crazy bitch," I spat.

"She has her charm once you get to know her."

I grunted as I flicked my eyes between him and my hands. He picked up on the hint and let go immediately.

"I hope you aren't prone to violent outbursts."

"Only when I'm attacked first."

He didn't say anything more. Instead, he shrugged in a sort of 'what are you going to do' kind of way. He motioned with the flick of his head that it was time to leave. My eyes darted between the carefree victor and my hesitant district partner. Add in my crazy mentor, and I realized District Seven was quite the bunch this year. As I followed him, I decided to let everything slide. This wasn't worth my energy. Beth could behave like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. Streak could pretend that there wasn't a care in the world. My district partner could act like an inconsolable, weepy child. None of that mattered because me? I wasn't a kid.

I hadn't been a child for many years.

Ah! Another update! Sorry for the weeks in between! When you factor in the holidays and getting settled back in college, it didn't leave me much time to write! Hopefully I'll update weekly/biweekly from now on! Anyways, I adored these lovely tributes and can't wait to hear what you think of them!

Until next time,

Europa