Lystra's POV

I gazed upon the small, shabby houses, and the people in the streets, small and shabby, to match the houses. The air was perfumed with the smell of the fruit, and I remembered that the apples were going out of season. The late bloomers would be taken from the trees soon. Somehow, this saddened me. Nobody ever asked what happened to the apples afterwards. So what would happen to me, the Golden Apple, now that the action was over?

Reporters screamed my name in the streets, asking me what it was like to be home; if I wanted to see my father; how I felt about the funeral. . . but I didn't listen to them. I continued walking, clad in my black gown with Sparkle in my arms, through the streets, drowning in memories and sorrow. The questions they asked were painful, and I wasn't sure if I could answer them just yet.

Slowly, I walked through the crowds, and to the stage where I was reaped. I gazed at the place, which had so changed in many ways, and remained the same in others. There were the people of District 11, in front of me, shabby and sorrowing as always. Emerald was standing in the middle of the stage, wearing one of her ridiculous sparkling outfits, and all was silent. They all stared at me with wide eyes, full of emotion. Some seemed afraid of me. Others were glad to see me. I don't believe that they knew what to expect. They hadn't changed.

But I had.

My eyes looked for Tanner's family. They were on one of the two podiums just off the stage; Mr. and Mrs. Lawson, and poor, poor, tiny little Kathi. All three had red, puffy faces, as though they had been crying. Mrs. Lawson was sobbing, her head in her husband's shoulder, who looked tired as he patted her back, small tears trickling down his own face. Kathi, however, stood in front of her parents, arms at her side. She did not grope for human contact, and did not cry to show her emotion. She caught my eye, and gave me a small, sad smile, that I returned before quickly looking away.

I glanced towards the other podium, where my own father should have been. My heart beat faster at the thought of seeing him, but he wasn't there. My heart fell, and I wondered whether he was ill. This made my heart pound even faster. I wasn't going to lose my dad, my only living relative. Not now. Not ever.

I looked in the crowd for Estella and Issac, but if they were there, I couldn't spot them. My heart beat faster. It was against the law to miss District meetings such as these, unless you were on your deathbed. I wouldn't let them die. I just wouldn't. I hugged Sparkle close, and pushed the thought from my mind. I then turned to look at the thing I had been avoiding.

Tanner was quite still in his casket, eyes closed, and hands folded as politely as they were in life. His dead face was sincere, and his shirt covered the stomach wound that Elvatorix had given him, so that he might have been sleeping. Part of me yearned that to be true, but the other part reminded the other that the past night, I had decided to move on. Tanner was dead. Gone. I couldn't get him back.

But I couldn't stop looking at him, either.

A Capitol official began to speak of Tanner – how dedicated he was to his family, how polite, and how caring. He said that the best weeks of his life were spent with me, in the Hunger Games. I thought that I would rather he have never been put in the Games, never meet me, than to have him dead. Dead for me. The official's words were empty. Heartless.

I stepped forward next, and I gave Tanner the picture I had made for him. It was a picture of him and me, holding hands. I gave Kathi the copy. Then I strode back to face Tanner, and, abandoning my normal, planned speech, said,

"Tanner was an amazing person. He made me see things I never did before, and I shall never be the same because of him. He taught me . . ." I hesitated here, swallowing the knot in my throat. "he taught me how to love. He taught me that, although someone's body may die, the love does not, and neither do they."

I lifted my eyes to the sky, wondering where Tanner was now. "What you see here, in this casket, is not Tanner. It is only his dead shell. There was a person under that shell that I loved," I chocked on my next words "with all my heart. And I still do. Because his shell is dead, that doesn't mean he is. He lives on. He lives in our hearts. He lives in the air, flying with the wind. He lives with the trees. He is free – more free than any of us. He is happy."

It wasn't much of an ending, but I felt it was enough. It made Mrs. Lawson cry even harder, though Mr. Lawson looked over his wife's head at me, looking slightly surprised, as though it was the first time he'd ever seen me. Kathi had a single tear going down her cheek, and she gave me a grateful look. I nodded at her. We'd have time to talk about this later – hours, years, maybe. Plenty of time.

At the feast, I didn't feel sad. I was happy – happy for Tanner, rejoicing his memory, and his sacrifice. I laughed, I danced. Sparkle and I got on the stage and dedicated a few verses of "1, 2, 3, Seeds" to Tanner's memory. Kayton and I told jokes, and laughed. We ate until we could eat no more. We talked to reporters. I even danced with my prep team for a while, after which they hugged me and told me that they would miss me. I could only smile slightly. I would miss them – silly and stupid and naïve as they were.

In the middle of the party, the Lawsons approached me. Seeing their grim faces, I led them to the side, to a vacant bench, and waved off the persistent reporters. The Lawsons and I stared at each other. Then, finally, Mrs. Lawson let out a small wail and threw her arms around my neck. Surprised, I staggered, and then returned the gesture. I understood. We had a common grief, and should band together. I held her while she cried, closing my eyes, but I didn't cry. No, Tanner was in a better place. Mr. Lawson looked at me with that same appraising, almost surprised look as he had at the funeral. Kathi just smiled that grim, sad smile.

Finally, Mrs. Lawson pulled away. "I – I – I'm sorry," she stuttered to me. "I – I just – "

"I understand," I cut her off with an understanding smile. She sniffled and nodded.

"Lystra," Mr. Lawson's voice was deep, and had the calm, sincere quality that Tanner's had. "We wanted to thank you for what you said at the funeral." He gripped his wife's hand very tightly. "It helped us in our grief."

I nodded slightly. "I appreciate that, Mr. Lawson."

At my words, Mrs. Lawson let out another small wail. "S-s-such a polite girl!" and then she was hugging me again. Mr. Lawson gave me an apologetic look, but I shook my head. Mrs. Lawson had my desperate grief. After a few moments, she pulled away again.

"Th – thank you," she sniffled. "you made him so happy – I could see it in his eyes."

My heart melted slightly at the grief in her words, and perhaps a little bitterness. "It's all right, Mrs. Lawson," I told her. "I love him, Mrs. Lawson, as you did. As you still do."

She blew her nose. "Such beautiful words – as pretty as those eyes that show me that you speak true."

I blushed. "Please, Mrs. Lawson, you're embarrassing me."

"Now, I won't have that," she said suddenly. "You aren't to call me 'Mrs. Lawson,' child. Call me Edith."

"I couldn't – "

"Please, you're family," said Edith "Tanner loved you. That's good enough for me."

And then we were in each other's arms, crying again. And I discovered something in her arms. It was all right to feel sad that he was gone. It was all right to cry. And cry I did. I felt that I had no fluids left in my body when Edith pulled away, and we linked arms and headed over to the food tables to share memories of Tanner.

Then, finally, at 2 a.m., the party was over, and I walked with the reporters, the prep team, Vincent, Kayton, and Sparkle, to the Victor's Village, where all the Victors had a house. Outside the house that was now mine, I said my goodbyes to Vincent and the prep team, who promised to call with the telephone that I now owned.

Kayton, Sparkle, and I entered the building, turning on lights, trying to make it seem as if I was settling in. But really, we were waiting for all the reporters to leave. It took them an hour or so to leave, but they did, and when they did, I took out the last picture I had, having buried the rest in the meadow in District 12.

"Take Sparkle to my house, okay?" I addressed Kayton, who nodded. "Dad should be there, along with Estella and Issac." Somehow, I knew that they were okay, and waiting in my old house, my true home. I couldn't live easily in this bigger, better house until Kayton de-bugged it for me. So Kayton nodded, knowing where I was going, and left with Sparkle.

I headed for the train, thinking of Rayne. I would get her first, and then . . . then I would do it. Rayne was waiting for me in the now clean, pristine room. She had all of the belongings that we had collected in a small bag, which was on her shoulder. Before we left, we took one last look around the room that held so many memories – both good and bad. It had been our home for the past few days, and I found it surprisingly hard to leave it behind.

Finally, Rayne squeezed my shoulder. "Into the future," she told me, and I nodded. It seemed to fit the situation we were in at the moment. Together, we turned and left the train, into the darkness of night. We exchanged no words – I knew what we had to do, and, somehow, I think that Rayne knew too. We didn't head towards my house, where Dad, Estella, Sparkle, Kayton, and Issac were all waiting.

We headed towards the fields.

The Peacekeeper that guarded the gate didn't ask for his usual payment in meat. When he saw me coming, he simply let me through, lowering his head slightly so that he didn't have to look in my eyes. Rayne and I strode through the careful lines of cabbages, carrots, and lettuce, and into the fruit trees. We past the lemons, and then we were in the apples. We walked until we reached the granny smith. Then I found the right row, and we journeyed across it, to the tree where I had sat on the morning of the Reaping. Then I turned to Rayne and spoke,

"Can you climb?"

She only nodded. We began to climb high into the tree, past the spot where I had sat, higher and higher, until we could go no more, and the moon and the stars were the only things above us. Then I took out the picture.

It was of Nich, smiling as she hugged her mother, brother, and father, the latter which had a kind and caring face. I knew that this was her greatest dream failed, and that all were dead but the brother. I showed Rayne, who nodded in approval and understanding. We both knew that Nich's body had been burned with no proper ritual, and it felt only right to do something. We both took the paper.

"Goodbye, Nich," Rayne said solemnly. "You were a good friend in the time I knew you." Then she looked at me.

The knot was large in my throat once more, and I could only manage to say, "I hope that you get your dream, Nich." And then Rayne and I looked at each other, and a breeze came upon us, like a blessing. We let the paper blow away from our hands, out into the world, free to fly away.

We sat there a moment, remembering not only Nich, but the others too. Then we climbed down and left the fields, walking through the dark, sleeping District, to my house. When we stood before it, I stopped.

"This is the place?" Rayne asked.

"This is the place," I answered. She only nodded, waiting for me.

I gazed upon the place where I had lived throughout my childhood. Mom had lived there, with me and Dad. She had been pregnant with another child when she fell from a tree, unbalanced, and died from a cracked skull. She should never have been in the fields at that point in her pregnancy, but she was forced to, to feed the family. Dad had never been the same since, and neither had I.

The house held those bad memories.

But it also held the memories of Mom – the good ones. Her good cooking, smiles, and hugs. The way that she would comfort me when I had a nightmare . . . the way she had made everything . . . right.

I realized now that this house was not only my past house, but also my house now. I had two homes – one for living, in the Victor's Village, with plenty of room and comforts; the other for the memories, both good and bad. I felt a slight stab of pain at the thought of leaving behind my memory house behind, but, after all, it was the people that made the home, not the object itself.

I had grown since I had left this house. I had learned a lesson from Tanner, Nich, and the others. They had taught me how to love – a feeling that I had forgotten after Mom's death. And, without realizing it, I had drawn a close circle of friends around me because of it. I knew that I would love them until the day I died. Some would live with me, like sisters and brothers. Others would just visit.

Dad.

Estella.

Issac.

Rayne.

Sparkle.

Kayton.

Kathi.

Mrs. Lawson – Edith.

Mr. Lawson.

They were my family now. Family means that the people stick together. I would stick by them. Forever. I was a new Lystra Fay Gull.

And I nodded at Rayne, so that we approached the door together. I put my hand on the handle. I knew what I would find inside. They would all be there, on the old rickety furniture, sitting together. They would all be there, waiting for me, and we would move into the home in the Victor's Village. We would be happy there – with the Lawsons and Kayton visiting.

The next year, the 25th Hunger Games, Estella might go into the Games, to continue the punishment for the song. She might die. But I would train her. I would show her good berries, nuts, and how to make a snare and throw a knife. Then she might win, and get her own house in the square.

And then, maybe, Issac would go into the games. I would have to train him too. And when Sparkle and Kathi were old enough, maybe them, too. Maybe they would die – all of them, leaving me alone with Kayton and Dad and Mr. and Mrs. Lawson. Maybe they would all win, and get their own homes in the square. Then we would have our own little bustling village. Maybe it would all work out.

Maybe.

But that didn't matter at the moment. That was a battle for the future. Right now, in the present, I just had to be happy for what I had. I opened the door, and bright, cheery light spilled onto the street and onto me and Rayne. A good omen. I then said the only thing I could think to say.

"I'm home."