I awoke in a stark, white room. A pile of tapes sat beside the mattress I lay on. I was dressed in the same way that I was in the arena, black t-shirt, khaki green pants, waterproof jacket, my hair tied back into a ponytail. For some reason though, these were brand new, unlike the set I wore at the arena, which was torn, bloodied, and caked in mud. The black runners had never molded to my feet, and felt uncomfortable against my soles.

I tried to sit up, and was thrown back down by a wave of excruciating pain. My shoulder and thigh wound had been stitched up, and I had a nasty scar running across my nose. A small video-player sat across the room, and I popped in a tape labelled `G1 #1`. Then I realized what the label meant. G1 for `Games #1`, and #_ for the tape numbers.

I watched, riveted to the screen, every tape. Every step, slash, and stab. When the last tape ejected out, a door, I didn't even know was there, opened. I stepped out into a long corridor, and in front of a door labelled `Cato`.

I slid open the door to see Cato ejecting a tape out of the VCR player. He swivelled around when he heard me come in. His mood lightened considerably when he saw me. `Hey, butcherbird.`

I sit down beside Cato, and he clasp my hands in his. `We did it. We survived. We're alive.` He says softly.

I point to the tapes. `I've had enough killing for a lifetime.`

Just then, McLin steps into the room. `Hello survivors, you did a mighty good job in the arena, and you came out alive. Very impressive.`

Cato scowled, and I studied the face of the man, who had ordered the death of 30 high school students, with contempt. McLin names note of my response on a clipboard. `Hm… Interesting. Anyways, the tapes are yours to keep. You have an hour before we ship you out. See ya!` He said in a sarcastic voice.

Cato leapt up. `You killed them. The students. You killed them in cold blood. You murdered them!` He yelled the last words.

`No. They sacrificed their lives for research.` McLin's gaze turned to ice.

`Liar! The Games were unnecessary, the deaths were unnecessary, the entire fricking `experiment` was unnecessary! You killed them! Bastard!` Cato spat out the last word.

McLin frowned. `Know your place Cato.` Then he left.

We went back to our lives, that we no longer the same. Cato and I were scarred for life, both physically, and mentally. I would always have a scar beside my right eye where a boy stabbed me. I would have dreams of the people I killed, flashbacks of the arena and my bloodlust. Cato had them too. He had slash marks over his forearms, and a deep scar over his abs. Often, he would wake up in the night, screaming, sweating, and sometimes, even calling my name. But what affected us most, was our emotions. We were no longer just boyfriend and girlfriend, we were literally soul mates. He was the only person I could talk to about the horrors of the arena, and for Cato, I was the only one who understood. We had gone through the Games together, and pulled through thick and thin. And so, when it came time, we got married. Now we were burdened with a ten-year-old girl named Cindi, named after the girl I killed in hopes that if I raise the child well that I would make up for the murder.

One day, while Cindi was sitting on my lap, she stroked my scar. `Mommy, what happened there?` She asked.

I sighed warily. `Cindi, it's about time you learn about The High School Games.`

And so, I wrote my story, and my hope is, if every person who reads this tells at least two of their friends about it, then my story will be revealed, and maybe, just maybe, the fallen students will finally rest in peace.

A/N: Dear readers, I am filled with regret to bring you this news, this story has come to a close. Okay, maybe I should put off the formal stuff here, but yes, it's kind of sad that the story's over. R&R please, and keep in touch with me, 'cause I'll try to publish new stories, and hopefully, they'll be better than this one :)

-Katara Macken