Chapter 13

Dusk falls, but I can't sleep. Partly because I don't want Miss Ten - Frances - to slit my throat in my sleep, but mainly because I can't.

Julie.

My first kill. That's what she was called. I heard the sobs.

I have thought of killing my father many times. I know exactly how I would do it - when and where, too. But this kill wasn't my father, no matter how much I want it to be.

But it could be. I could go home and kill my father. Hannah and I could live in Victors' Village without him, and we would survive well.

It could still hapen.

One.

More.

Kill.

Salt tears glue my eyelids together to the point that when I try to open them, the world is blurred and dull. It takes me a few minutes to see clearly, and when I do, I see the sun shining down on the twelfth isle. The glare of it makes me wince and close my eyes again.

It takes a moment or two for me to work out why I was crying so much, but then, when it hits me, I hate myself for forgetting.

Julie.

I was crying for the loss of her companionship and amiability.

Rachel.

I was crying for the loss of her smile and bright green eyes.

Robert.

I was crying for the loss of my district partner and his light-heartedness.

Now I want to cry again, but I don't think I've got any more tears to cry. Besides, all that grief has frozen my heart into a numb block of ice.

I lift my legs and attempt to stand, but my elongated crying session has numbed my legs as well as my heart, leaving me relatively defenceless.

Which is very bad news because I can feel the rising water. It's early morning and water is rising? That's strange.

The icy water hits my knees - which resting on the floor - and forces me to pull myself together and heave myself up using the nearest shiny building. Pain shoots up my arm and I remember my blackened fingers. Damn.

It takes a great deal of effort to pull myself up - so much effort I want to flop down again.

A random thought stops me: I know Nine's name. Emily. I swallow and try to oppress the sudden onslaught of forgotten names this one has unleashed; Trevor, the boy from Five who Alexx killed for no good reason except that she didn't like him; Tad, Alexx, Robert of Two, Drew, Riana; Andrew and Sarah, the couple from Seven who were too deeply in love to deserve this; and, most surprisingly, the District Eleven boy, Forrest.

Forrest. I remember his face, that first night. He was tall and broad-set, with spiky black hair and a rounder face. He was super smart, I remember from training, but very competitive.

And Trevor of Five. We were good friends in training, and I ran with him in the mornings. He was faster every time. In general, he was easy to get along with. I think that's why the Careers wanted him at first; not because he was talented - though, as I said, he was a fast runner - but because they actually liked him. From the bottom of their hearts, they liked him.

And now he's dead.

They're all dead.

Hot tears of rage spill down my cheeks. Someone has to pay.

I stagger to the centre of the island, my serrated fan in hand, and look for my final opponent.

Emily, she's called, but that sounds too human so I decide to just call her Nine.

Nine. She must die.

The words sound loud and clear, the only things I can hear through my blind rage.

Die.

Die.

Kill.

"Looking for me?"

I spin. There she is.

"Yes." It's all I can say before I strike, hard and fast.

But she is faster, and she brings up a short knife to counter my blow. Within seconds, I've been spun around and had my hair grabbed. She pulls me to her, the knife at my throat.

Back in the Dark Days, Aimee used to go on vital messaging missions between districts. One time, she came home with short hair. My mother was furious until Aimee explained that she cut it off to escape someone's grip.

So I cut off my own hair.

It was never very long, but I was sort of proud of it. I am the only one in my family to have blonde hair, and I like to have distances between me and my family sometimes. Now, it is only half the length it was, knotted and torn. As the cut lengths hit the floor, I spin. The sight of them replenishes the burning fire inside me and I throw myself onto Nine.

She is caught slightly off-guard; I manage to get a slice across her face, nice and deep. Her makes my hands wet, and it stings my blackened fingers.

A scream rips from her throat and she swings her elbow towards my throat, connecting with a frightfully painful crunch. For a few seconds, the blow winds me. It isn't long, but she grabs the opportunity to push me down to the floor and bring her knife up to my face.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"No, you're not, Nine," I hiss.

"It's Emily," she says. "Emily Ray."

They are the last words I hear from her before the knife comes down on my throat.

I am going to die.

I am dying.

My vision blurs; my head spins; I gasp and gasp and gasp for breath.

No breath comes.

I have lost these Games.

Her name was Emily Ray.

Divide and Conquer.

Divide and conquer?

I remember my flashback all those years - no, mere days - ago. It's so strange how I was a different person back then.

Divide and conquer.

The Capitol Games have changed me. I am no longer myself.

That thought chills me more than the thought of death.

I will die as a different person to me.

I can't breathe. My hand clutches at my throat and I feel the gash the knife has left. It is slick with thick, red blood.

But not just my blood. My hands - well, my one useful hand, but I used to have two - is covered with the blood of many - Julie, Drew and Rachel metaphorically, but my own and Emily's literally.

Emily, her name is. That sounds so human and innocent, but I know that isn't the case.

No, the Emily in question is my killer. She is a brutal murderer.

A murderer with a family back home. A murderer with parents and siblings and friends and memories.

I wonder what she's going home to.

My eyes crack open to see the fake stars in the fake sky.

Divide and conquer.

I wish they were real stars me to die under.

A/N: It has now been decided that this is the final chapter of this story. I'm sorry to those of you who were expecting and epilogue, but I have decided it best to not do one.

For any extra information on the Capitol POV final ending, please PM me. Ditto that on any tributes' epilogues.

Finally, if you are one of those awesome followers who reads my SYOTs, too, or is waiting for the next instalment of my 3rd SYOT, I'm sorry to say that I'm going on hiatus from tomorrow. I will still be contactable via PM, but I will not be publishing anything until May.

(For more info on what I'll be doing during my hiatus, click the second 'E' in the word 'HERE' on my profile page)

Thank you for being wonderful readers and I hope you enjoyed the story.

-Rue