*Heavy swearing in Rae Elismen's POV

Reapings: Lose

District Nine:

Drayden Upshur's POV:

Have you ever seen something so wonderful that the thought of having it consumed you? Your mind constantly circled around this one thing no matter what you did. Every action, every thought, every breath was dedicated to obtaining it.

Even if you have, I highly doubted you had the same crushing disappointment of knowing you would never get it.

I sat in the shadows as I gazed at the nearby park. Not many people visited it. Most people didn't have the leisure time to take a stroll in a park, unless they were taking care of a small child. Even then, time in this safe haven was fairly limited. In this district, there were only certain times of the day it was safe to be out with your child.

Today, the park was even more desolate. Many people were either preparing their children for the Reaping or were taking the only holiday of the year to sleep in. Still, I knew Khalia would be here. She always came here this time of day… and she always brought our daughter.

Khalia walked around the small patch of greenery with our daughter in hand. The small girl seemed obliviously happy; not knowing a predator could swoop in at any second. It wouldn't take much to beat down a seventeen-year-old girl and a child. Even from here, I could see Khalia's eyes darting around. She was always protective of the ones she loved… She used to be that protective of me when I deserved it.

They disappeared behind a grove of trees and my eyes wandered. This place was such a bright light in a sea of darkness. This district was filled to the brim with crime and savagery. Every time you left your house, you had to be on your guard. You never knew what was on the other side of a corner as you turned it. It could be a thug ready to take your money or a hitman hired by a merchant you had stolen from. There could be a Peacekeeper ready to pick a fight or a viciously stabbed corpse. Every alley hid a dark secret that no one wanted to know. All we wanted to do was survive and that meant that someone else had to die. Even if you never saw it, every citizen knew that every meal they had was a meal someone else was missing. There wasn't enough food and money to go around, which gave you two choices. To fight or die.

Khalia and our daughter appeared once more. The little girl tromped along as happy as could be. The only things left untainted in this district were some of its children. Good parents tried to leave their child as pure as they could before life dug its claws into them. Parents who didn't care to put in the effort let their child foster the harshness of reality at an early age. It usually led to them growing up a thief, thug, or worse.

I wanted to… No, needed to be there for my daughter. I wanted to shelter her from all the bad things that came into her world. I wanted to take all the evil that would normally seep into her heart and put it into mine. I wanted to do so many things for her, but it could never happen. I had screwed up too much.

I flinched slightly as a drop of water struck my arm. Within seconds, many drops followed and it began to lightly sprinkle. My daughter's laughter chimed like bells as she began to twirl around in the rain. Khalia laughed along as she span her around several times before picking her up. She held our daughter on her hip with one arm as she pulled scarves over both of their heads. My gaze followed them as they stomped through the park. Soon, they disappeared into an alley, obscured by heavy rain and darkness.

The rain continued to strike me, but I refused to budge. I tried to burn their image into my mind one final time.

It might be the very last time I would ever see either of them.

I walked through the deserted streets with my head bowed low. The rain echoed as it splattered against the surrounding stone surfaces. I had lost track of time as I wandered endlessly. My mind was bouncing around endlessly, thinking of all my mistakes.

I was a loser, in every sense of the word.

I had lost my job, my girlfriend, and my child… And in every case I threw them all away.

Khalia and I officially met when we were fifteen. For several years before that, we had a routine. I would see her staring at me, our eyes would meet, and she would turn away as she blushed furiously. It went on like this until one day her friend dragged her over to talk to my friends and me. The entire conversation was awkward. She laughed at everything overdramatically and kept touching my bicep.

And, somehow, we started dating a week later.

Our entire relationship consisted of her trying too hard and me not trying at all. It was forced and awkward. Being a bubbly girl, she consistently tried to cheer me up, which annoyed me endlessly. I was constantly telling her to be quiet and pushing her away. I treated her like a fly that wouldn't stop buzzing around my head. It was a horrible relationship, and yet she still wouldn't leave.

We only had been dating five months when she told me she was pregnant.

Without missing a beat, I told her to get an abortion.

She was shocked. She had some sort of fantasy that once I heard this, I would become a caring, kind boyfriend who treated her like a prized object. It was unrealistic to expect anyone to do such a turnaround in almost no time flat. She screamed, cried, and punched me as she told me I was a horrible person. I told her I was surprised she was just figuring this out.

After several long fights, she gave me an ultimatum. I was either going to step up, or I was never going to be part of her, or our child's, life again.

I told her not to let the door it her on the way out.

I knew I was heartless. I knew I treated her worse than garbage… But what did she expect? I was a fifteen-year-old kid from a fucked up home who had never had a healthy relationship with anyone in my entire life. How was I supposed to react? I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone her and a child. It was too much… It was too fast.

The change happened slowly. Almost every day I saw her… Every day I watched her live her life as if I had never existed. Every day I saw her belly slowly grow… Every day I saw her deal with the judgement and insults that came with it.

Every day I stared at her and never once did she look my way.

The moment I realized I truly fucked up was when I first saw her… Our daughter. Khalia had dropped out of school at that point, but I spotted her sitting under her small tree in the park… Except this time she had something. A tiny, weak thing bundled in heaps of old cloth. A little girl that I barely caught a glimpse of before Khalia saw me. We made eye contact for the first time in seven months, and all I saw was resentment and hate…

As she walked away that first time, I knew she had meant what she said about me never being a part of her life again. I knew she would never forgive me.

After that experience, I tried. I dropped out of school and got a full-time job. I tried to give her money, but she refused to speak with me, let alone accept any help. I wrote her letters, but she would purposefully return them to my house unopened. I even attempted to talk to her family, but they just turned me away. Every attempt at redemption was rejected without a second thought, which led me to the only option left. I had to do something that she legally couldn't turn a blind eye to. I had to show her how hard I was willing to fight for her and for my child.

I had to win the Hunger Games.

I walked in the front door of my home and shook the water from my dark brown hair. I was soaked to the bone. I swiftly began to discard my clothing and I rushed to my bedroom.

"You got a hot babe waiting in there for you?" A voice cackled as I passed by the living room.

I turned towards the couch to see my mom draped across it. She was staring at me behind half-closed lids and held a bottle of beer in her hand.

"No, I have to get changed for the Reaping."

"That's today?" she asked as she took another swig, "It's your last year, right?"

"Yeah, Mom."

"Damn, that means we can't sign up for any more tesserae," she sighed.

"What a shame," I replied as I tried to keep the sarcasm from oozing out of my mouth. It wasn't uncommon in this district to have children just so they could sign up for as much as tesserae as possible. In recent years, they had to put a limit because of how common of a practice it was becoming.

"Ah well, I'll just have to pick up some more hours," she shrugged.

I don't have some tragic story about how she used to be someone different. This was the mom I had known my entire life. I was a living food stamp for her, and she was what paid the rent.

"You coming?"

"You ask me that every year, and the answer is always the same," she laughed.

"Just being thoughtful."

I shut the door behind me as entered my room. I walked to the dresser and began to change into the outfit I had picked out months ago. It was a suit that used to be my dad's, and it was the best thing we owned. My dad died from a heart attack when I was five years old.

It turns out that when you mix alcoholism, high blood pressure, and being a fat fuck together, it doesn't bode very well for your health.

I wasn't very heartbroken over it. He had left quite the impression in only five years, and it wasn't a good one.

I draped the gingham jacket over my hand-me-down punching bag as I buttoned my shirt. I wasn't a stupid, dramatic kid going into the Hunger Games blind. I knew the risks and the rewards. I also knew I was semi-prepared. I had three things going for me over regular district kids.

One thing was my previous line of work. Until I was fired fairly recently I worked for Remus Lexington, one of the larger crime lords. The best way to describe my job there was that I was 'on-call'. If he needed to get something done but didn't have the man power, he would find me. I did whatever he wanted. The jobs ranged from delivering drugs or picking up packages to breaking into homes and sending someone 'a message'. There was even several times where he brought me in to help him interrogate someone for information. The pay was decent and helped me get by.

The second thing was the training I had done in my own time. Most people in our district knew about the 'Secret Career Academy'. It was where the wealthier citizens sent their kids to learn how to fight. They most likely hoped their children would volunteer for the Hunger Games and bring back some fame and glory to share, but it never worked out that way. Only a couple of people from that academy had volunteered out of the many that had been a part of it. Still, many of them went on to be very successful in District Nine due to their superior fighting skills and knowledge in self-defense.

Of course, I could never afford this training, but I could definitely afford some rich brats to give me some mediocre teaching. I approached the douchiest ones and gave them what they wanted; drugs. As they got high, they instructed me on proper punching techniques as well as some footwork. Eventually, one of them managed to snag a tattered punching bag and gave it to me for some high-grade morphling. The morphling may have costed almost all of my savings, but it was worth it to be able to continue my exercises properly.

The last advantage was a simple one. I was willing to do anything to get back and win. I'd kill and torture whatever tribute the Capitol wanted me to for their entertainment. I'd take whatever sponsors I could get, and take whatever else I needed from the other tributes. I was going to prove to Khalia that I was willing to whatever possible to get back into her life.

I glanced out the window and sighed. A Reaping in the rain was going to suck. Some things even the Capitol couldn't control.

I shrugged on a jacket over my suit and walked back into the hallway.

As I opened the front door, my mom called out, "Good luck."

"Yeah, good luck to you too," I replied, knowing she had no idea that no matter what her son was never going to come back to this house again.

I would either be in Victor's Village or a coffin.

The rain beat against everyone harshly as the Mayor made his speech underneath a large umbrella-like structure that jutted out from the building. I had never seen anything like it before, but it was obviously built by the Capitol for the Reaping. Towards the back of the covered stage stood the mentors for this year.

I had no idea what the real name of the male mentor was, but everyone called him Pops. He was in his late-fifties and wasn't aging well. He was shriveled and hunched over as he gazed out at the audience. The female mentor was one of the most despised, but also most successful, Victors in District Nine. Lorie was cunning and vicious, and to this day people still spoke about her games. However, she treated every citizen of District Nine like absolute trash.

Though, lately, no one had seen much of her. She spent a short amount of time in a mental hospital in the Capitol and came back looking worse than when she left. Currently, she stood on stage slightly staggered. Her skin looked washed out against her black dress. A pink wig was secured firmly on her head. Supposedly, she was crazy now. I guessed I would get the opportunity to figure that out for myself.

The Mayor ended his speech and our escort smoothly scooted in. He grabbed the microphone and smirked, "What a lovely speech. Let's give another hand for your Mayor."

Even the girls that would usually swoon over his silky voice and perfect face barely reacted. The rain was driving everyone's already horrible moods into the ground. If the escort noticed the lack of enthusiasm, he decided to ignore it.

"As you know, my name is Francesco. I'm here to introduce your tributes to you this year."

Again nothing.

After several more comments and attempts at garnering a reaction, he reached into the girl's bowl. Waiting several seconds to build the anticipation, he unfolded it and called out, "Rae Elismen!"

Without missing a beat, someone screeched, "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

The exclamation caught everyone by surprise as it rang out from the sixteen-year-old female section. I tried to locate my future district partner in the sea of people, but to no avail.

"Don't fucking touch me," a voice yelled.

A blur of brown stormed the stage as the girl stomped up to it. Her entire being screamed anger. Her posture was pure aggression as her eyes screeched murder.

"Any volunteers?"

When none came forward, Francesco moved the microphone towards Rae as he asked, "Is there any-"

"If you don't get that thing out of my face, I'm going to shove it so far up your ass that-"

The microphone cut out as Francesco took a step back and several Peacekeepers came on either side of her. They grabbed her arms, and she shrugged them off easily. She muttered something unintelligible to them and soon Francesco was back on the speakers.

"We love them feisty," he laughed, "On to the boys."

"Jayce Bangley!"

A man walked out of my section. He approached the stage with poise. He was shaking slightly, but that could be attributed to the rain and temperature.

I waited for Francesco to ask for volunteers before I yelled out, "I volunteer."

The shocked silence was deafening as I shoved my way through the crowd to the aisle. I marched to the stage and nodded at the previous male tribute as he passed by me.

"Isn't this exciting," Francesco laughed as he approached me, "What's your name?"

"Drayden Upsher."

"And why exactly are you volunteering, Mr. Upsher?"

"To win," I stated firmly.

Francesco chuckled as he replied, "Well I hope so."

"District Nine, please give a round of applause for this year's tribute, Rae Elismen and Drayden Upsher!"

This time, the audience mustered up a decent reaction as Francesco raised both of our hands.

"Now it's time to shake, you two."

I turned towards the girl and stuck out my hand. With Peacekeepers on either side of her, she shook my hand hard and fast. I could already tell that she was going to be a pain in my ass if I got on her bad side. She seemed like she would be nothing but trouble for me… And trouble was something I couldn't afford.

Because I had everything to lose.

Rae Elismen's POV:

"Shut the hell up!" I yelled as I grabbed the first thing on my bedside table and threw it against the wall.

A loud thud resonated through the wooden wall, and the sound of vigorous, obnoxious sex ceased. I sighed in relief as I thrusted my face back into my lumpy pillow. As I began to dose back into my much needed sleep, someone began repeatedly knocking on my door. I groaned and moaned as I threw myself out of bed and stomped towards the door.

I swung it open only to see Callista's scrunched up face glaring at me.

"I don't appreciate you eavesdropping on my private interactions," she accused snootily as she crossed her arms.

I could feel my brow furrow as I spat, "And I don't like hearing two flea infested mutts pounding away at each other first thing in the morning."

"I'll talk to Luanne," Callista threatened.

"She'll tell you to shut the hell up as well, I can assure you," I nodded, wanting nothing more than to sink back into bed, "Listen, this is the only day in the year I get to have the healthy amount of sleep a girl my age is supposed to get. I'm not going to have it ruined by your need to sell your snatch for whatever petty change a stranger can throw your way, which is against Luanne's rules to begin with."

Callista's face turned bright red, something that wasn't uncommon. She shook as she said, "I'll make sure to yell twice as loud when I get back in there."

I bit my lip as she spun around. That wasn't going to do at all.

I grabbed her by the back of her hair and yanked her back. She screeched in pain as I slammed her head into my doorframe and pinned her against it.

"I don't care what the hell you do in your room. Just make sure I don't hear a fucking peep while I'm trying to sleep. See, I even made it rhyme so even someone like you can understand."

"I'll report-"

"Go ahead, do it. Remember what happened to the last person who 'reported' me? I think having shattered knees is really going to make it hard sucking off all the dudes who come in your room."

Before she could respond, I shoved her out into the hallway and smacked her forehead against the wall. I threw her back towards her room as she tumbled to the ground. A man stood in her doorway with total fear in his eyes.

"I don't see how you're banging so loudly. You're both a couple of pussies."

Without waiting for a response, I walked back into my tiny bedroom and slammed the door shut. Knowing that attempting to fall back asleep was futile, I opened my tiny wardrobe and yanked out whatever clothes were on top. I pulled the ratty shirt over my head and hobbled about as I tried to slip my legs into my cotton pants. I pulled my long, dark hair out from under my shirt and grabbed as much of it as I could. I pulled it back into a high ponytail, annoyed at the curly strands that refused to stay in the elastic band. I put on my only jacket and pair of shoes as I walked out of my room.

I locked the door behind me as I always did. Every girl here knew that if you didn't, Trudy down the hall would sneak in and go through all your stuff. She was a horrible snoop and gossip. I slammed my fist into Callista's door once as I walked by for good measure.

When I made it down the stairs, I saw Luanne sitting at the large, wooden table doing nothing but staring out the window.

"You're up early," she commented, "Headed out?"

"Got nothing better to do," I shrugged as I paused by the entryway.

Luanne's boarding house was a haven for some girls. She accepted runaways, unwed mothers, and orphans alike. As long as you paid her rent on time, she didn't care how long you stayed. Her only rules were that you kept to yourself and that no men were allowed in this house. This included boyfriends, brothers, fathers, etc. Long story short, don't cause trouble and don't have a dick.

How Callista managed to sneak men in here almost every day was beyond me.

"Just be careful. There's a lot of unrest. I can feel it," Luanne murmured.

I discreetly rolled my eyes and nodded, "Whatever you say."

For me, this boarding house wasn't a haven. It was a means to an end. Cheap bed, cheap food, and cheap rent until I was old enough to get a place of my own.

Before Luanne could impart any more of her freaky, cryptic words of wisdom, I dipped out the door. The streets, as to be expected, were as empty as could be. It was only the smog of District Nine and me out on this dreaded morning. Since there was no one to get in my way, I immediately began jogging through the streets. Usually the alleys were so tightly packed that you were lucky to move at a snail's pace. Sometimes I thought whoever designed the layout of this district was told they were designing a rat maze… I mean, maybe they were. You never knew with those rich sociopaths.

As the different shades of grey blurred by, I tried to focus on the rhythm of my breathing. I forced my thoughts to only think of the burning air that I breathed in and the rushing coolness as I exhaled. I repeated this process until the word 'Reaping' came bursting through every mental wall I had built up. Today was one of the five days of the year that I hated because no matter what I did it made me feel shitty. It was the day that I had known another family member was going to die.

Without even knocking, I pushed open the battered door that most people wouldn't even notice. I entered the abandoned cellar and whistled. A head of red hair popped up from behind a crate. Wild curls surrounded Marista's face as she glared at me with dazed confusion.

"I don't know what time it is, but I know it's too early to be awake," she growled as she pushed herself to her feet.

"That's what I thought before I was woken up by rabid dogs in heat."

"Kinky."

I smirked slightly as she pushed a couple of crates together to create a makeshift chair for me. I plopped down onto it and pulled the leather pouch from the hidden pocket in my jacket.

"I thought you were going to give this to me after the Reapings?" Marista asked as I handed it to her.

"Happy holiday," I shrugged as she poured the contents out and began to count the money.

Crime in District Nine was rampant and it affected everyone. That especially included the rich merchants who had no backbone whatsoever. My business model was simple. If someone stole something from you, I'd track the fucker down and beat the snot out of them until they gave me your stuff back. Peacekeepers never had the time to find the individual criminal down and, even if they did, you wouldn't get what was stolen from you back. That went beyond their pay-grade. After I beat the shit out of them, I'd return your belongings to you once you handed over the previously agreed upon amount of money. You get your prized possessions back and the knowledge that the guilty were punished, and I got money to survive another day. Pretty good model, huh?

Except for the well-kept secret that Marista was the thief.

I wouldn't call us partners or friends. I would say we were two like-minded people in a mutually beneficial relationship. I picked out the marks, she broke into their house and stole valuables, and then I would offer my services. After a day or so, I would visit Marista, get the client's things, and return them. Later, I would split it with Marista and we would start the process all over again. It was a simple con, but very lucrative and risk-free.

"This guy paid out the ass for that locket, huh?"

"It was his dead wife's. Got to love sentimentality," I explained.

"This calls for a pre-reaping celebration then!" she clapped as she ran across the cellar and grabbed a tiny pouch. She wiggled her eyebrows as she shook the white powder out of the bag and onto a relatively clean wooden board.

"Get high before the reaping?" I asked.

"Uh huh."

I thought about it for a second before shrugging, "Fine, as long as I don't have to pay."

She clapped again before licking her finger, coating it, and then sucking on it childishly. I rolled my eyes at Marista's obvious drug problem. The drugs were probably what made her act so crazy half the time. However, they were also what gave her the drive to do such great work so I wasn't going to complain.

I made a tiny line and snorted it easily. I had done enough drugs to know what my limit was, and I only wanted a small buzz… just something to take the edge off. Marista, however, continued to go at it until she was practically busting at the seams with energy. At one point she began to dance to the sound of the rain that came out of nowhere. She claimed she had called it down from the skies herself just so she had something to jive to. I laughed at her idiocy as the dread crept back in.

Three years ago, my twin sister was reaped.

Three years ago, I knew in my heart that she was going to die.

Three years ago, I knew it was my fault because I couldn't bring myself to volunteer.

These three thoughts kept circling in my head like vultures in the sky. They swooped down and picked at my carcass as my mind screamed for them to leave. I spiraled downwards as they looped over and over again, laughing at me. They mocked me… attacked me… haunted me…

"Yoohoo, Raeeeeee," Marista whined as she broke through my whirlwind of thoughts.

I blinked, not realizing how much time had passed. One second I had been staring at her dancing about and now her face was so close to mine that I could only see her bright blue eyes. I gasped in surprise as I scrambled back.

"You took quite the trip there," she giggled.

"What was that," I asked, knowing full well I was still feeling the effects.

"I don't know, a lot of stuff. I just kind of mashed up all my pills and mixed them together."

My jaw dropped as anger coursed through me, "So you're telling me-"

"You barely did any at all! I would have mentioned it if you were really going at it. Besides, you must have gotten the good stuff."

"I'm never doing any sort of drugs with you again," I spat as I stood up and looked outside.

Right… Rain…

"That's what you said last time," she chimed as she put on a heavy jacket over her filthy clothes, "Want to walk together?"

"Might as well," I sighed in defeat, not wanting to argue with a coked up chick, "But you might as well hand the jacket over to me. You could actually use the bath."

She scrunched up her face in thought before saying, "I guess you're right… The last time I cleaned myself was-"

"I don't need to know," I interrupted as I took the raincoat off of her and put it over my lightweight jacket.

Marista smiled at me dopily as she opened her battered door and hopped out into the rain. I rolled my eyes as she pretended to wash her armpits, and I shut the door behind me. I should have felt bad for taking advantage of a teenage girl on drugs… But I honestly didn't feel much of anything at all.

I had never hated my life more than I did in this moment.

I was wet, cold, tired, dizzy, and had a drug addict hooked onto my arm practically jumping up and down as the mayor gave his speech. If there was a hell, this was where I would be the second I died. I would be back in this moment for all eternity.

"Do you ever think mustaches are just fuzzy caterpillars? I saw a picture in a book once-"

"Shut the fuck up," I repeated for probably the hundredth time.

I was already thinking of all the different ways I could kill her. Every single painful death I imagined kept me from actually punching her square in the face. My favorite so far was a bear trap around her neck. That was a pretty fun one to imagine.

She continued to prattle, and I could see several miserable people glare towards us. I glared right back and every time their eyes widened with realization and fear before they turned away. To say I had a bit of a reputation was an understatement. Before I dropped out of school, I was known to cause trouble. I beat up every kid who even looked at me the wrong way. Sometimes I beat people up just cause I felt like it.

After I dropped out, the reputation followed me. Before meeting Marista, I had to actually find and beat up thieves. People underestimated me because I was just a fourteen-year-old girl, but that was always their downfall. They didn't give it their all when they could have easily won, and by the time they realized they needed to they were already pretty rattled up. I had no problem going for the 'easy' shots. Broken noses, jaws, hands… I would go for anything to inflict pain because that was all it was in this district. The winner was the one who could handle the most pain and not give up. When it came down to that, I always won.

"Here's hoping it's some rich bitch," Marista giggled as the escort placed his hand into the girl's bowl. I nodded, not really caring who was reaped. There was no one I cared about left. The only person I cared about was-

"Rae Elismen!"

The rage that had been my close companion my entire life rushed through me as I screamed, "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

My mother killed herself when I was one.

My older brother died from a disease he couldn't fight because of how overworked he was when I was eight.

My older sister died from an infection after getting publically lashed for a crime we both committed when I was twelve.

My twin sister was slaughtered by the Career bitch from District Two for the Capitol's entertainment when I was thirteen.

My father gave up the will to live and refused to eat anything until he died shortly after my last sibling died.

Now, at the age of sixteen, I was to die the same way my own twin did.

I was furious. After all the shit I had been through… After all the work I had done to try to get my life together… After all the suffering I had to endure because the Capitol couldn't throw a little wealth our way… My life was now going to end for no fucking reason.

This was bullshit!

I felt a strong grip on my arm, and I knew it was a Peacekeeper. My hatred bled out of me as I yelled, "Don't fucking touch me!"

I slammed my heel onto his foot and ripped my arm from his grip. Before he could wrap his slimy hands around me again, I raced to the stage. My entire body shook furiously as I mounted the steps and saw the escort's smug smile painted on his face.

"Are there any volunteers?" he asked.

His words meant nothing to me. Of course there were no volunteers. People weren't that fucking stupid.

Suddenly, the microphone that reeked of his breath was shoved in my face as he began to ask some sort of question. I couldn't even make out a single word his lips were forming because of how loud my blood pulsed through my veins.

"If you don't get that thing out of my face, I'm going to shove it so far up your ass that people will think it's your Adam's apple!"

The escort squeaked in fright as he stumbled backwards. Before I knew it, Peacekeepers were on either side of me wrapping their hands around me again. Before they could get a tight grip, I shrugged them off and spat, "Touch me again, and I'll make such a scene that you'll be cleaning blood off this stage for weeks."

They stood on either side of me cautiously, but I knew they wouldn't hesitate to beat me down if I got out of hand again. As the escort began to prattle on again, I tried in vain to focus on my breathing. In and out… In and out… In and out…

"I volunteer."

The anger came back at full force once again as a tall, dark man began to approach the stage. Of course no stupid bitch volunteers this year, but this jackass saves whatever wayward soul was destined to go to the Capitol. The irony of all ironies. The final sign that the entire fucking universe hated me and wanted me to die

"And why exactly are you volunteering, Mr. Upsher?"

"To win," the man answered.

Of course he volunteered to win. What kind of dumb answer was that!

The escort raised my arm lightly, scared to touch me. The crowd applauded, and I finally found a steady breathing pace again. In this one second, I was eerily calm. I knew the anger and hatred would come crashing back very soon, but for right now everything was crystal clear. As I grabbed the male tribute's hand as hard and quickly as I could, I knew what I was destined to do for the rest of my very short life.

I was destined to do whatever the fuck I wanted. I could cause as much havoc and mayhem as I pleased because nothing mattered anymore. I was a dead woman walking. On a different note, I could do just the opposite. I could relax and enjoy my last few days with no confrontation whatsoever. I could dine on the finest food and drink the best wine as I watched the days to my execution fly by. Whatever I decided to do, it honestly didn't matter.

Because I had nothing to lose.

Hey there. I know it's been awhile, once again. I'm going to give you the long story in the shortest way possible. After I posted my last chapter, my computer broke. Like literally within the week kicked the bucket and I didn't get a new one until the end of December. Also around that same time, I started to deal with more health problems, this time mental. Super long story short, I was diagnosed with PTSD from a one time trauma that happened six years ago and have spent the past several months working with a therapist to clear it out. As of now, it's under control and I feel 100 times better. Honestly, I feel better than I have in years, but who knows what the future holds. All I can say is that I'm happy I wrote this chapter (it took me a long time) and I hope to update more frequently, but I'm not going to make promises I can't keep.

The only promise I am making is that I'll finish this story one day, no matter how many people are still around/reading it.

Also, when I posted this chapter I made a forum for my stories/readers that I'm hoping to start using. I won't be online until tomorrow at the earliest, but if you want to participate in that or follow me on other social medias, those links are in my bio. I hope all of you have been doing well, and leave a review if you have the time!

Until next time,

Europa