A/N: It's been a while, and I'm really sorry about that. I know I apologize and give excuses a lot :/ Things are finally just starting to get back to normal from after the hurricane and school has been killing me. Kids, I don't advise you take honors/ AP classes. They kill your soul. Okay, back on topic, thanks for all the suggestions on future chapters! This chapter finishes off the 13th Games so those things will come soon! I hope y'all keep reading despite my slowness.
I reach my hand out and pull the folded white sheets off the hanger they are attached to. How long have these been here? I turn them over in my hand and notice the first paper has my name written across it. The handwriting is done in a messy scrawl that makes it obvious that whoever wrote it was in a hurry. Still, I can tell it is a girl's writing, and my mind automatically goes to Cyana. It has to be from her.
When I open it, I see my guess was right. I glance at the clock because I promised myself I would go back to the mentor room as soon as possible to be there for Michael. There's nothing I can do to help Cyana anymore so it would be best for me to just read this later. I hide the papers back in the closet again and take two steps towards the door before I realize there's no way I can make myself wait to read it. Curiosity wins over and I pull the papers back out and open the one addressed to me.
Mags,
I hope you listened to me and waited until I was already gone to read this.
I stop myself right there because I don't remember making any deal like that. She must have been planning to tell me that when she delivered the papers. Maybe she came to my room to talk to me the night before the Games started. I wouldn't know because I was sleeping in Alec's room that night.
Then the connotation the words carry hits me. Cyana wasn't planning on surviving the arena. Now I feel miserable, but I have to remind myself that I'm wasting time. I need to get through this letter fast.
I told you I would try to win, and I will. I realize that's probably not going to happen, though. I'm not scared of dying in the arena. That doesn't mean I'm not terrified of how I will die. I really hope it's quick, but that's beside the point. There's a few reasons I'm okay with not winning. One is that I would rather die pure on day one than die at the end as a killer. I would never hurt anyone and I don't want to be pushed to that point.
Reason Two is something no one ever really talks about. They never tell us in school what is supposed to happen after you die, but I remember my grandma telling me stories about how everyone goes to a better place, and I believed her. Maybe I will end up going where she is now…
The third reason is the hardest to say. I really hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I get the feeling being a victor isn't as great as they make it seem. I can tell there's more going on than I know. I noticed it first when you came back from getting sponsors that night. After that, I kept noticing more little signs. You're really brave for being able to handle all of this. I don't think I'm brave enough.
Anyway, I wanted to thank you for being so nice to me this past week. I wrote this because I don't want you to blame yourself when I don't make it. Please don't. I meant what I said when I said you were like an older sister, and I'm really glad you didn't give up on me. Oh, and please remember to talk to my best friend. I wrote a letter for her, too. I know you'll deliver it for me. Thanks, and I'm sorry I couldn't win for District Four.
Cyana W.
I pull the letter to my chest, and I can feel more tears welling up already. I know this was supposed to make me feel better. Maybe it will someday, but that day is not today.
I walk numbly to the dresser and hide the papers under some clothes. I can't risk having anyone from the Capitol find them because the part about victor's lives borders on rebellious, even if it is true. Maybe Cy is better off dead. She doesn't have to worry about being punished. I've wondered the same thing about my cousin for the past year. I'm glad he doesn't have to deal with this.
Things would be so much easier if I had just died, too. Well, not easier for my family. Easier for me, definitely, but that's selfish to say.
Oh well. I can't make the world stop moving just because I'm miserable. Time to get going. I quickly change my clothes and head straight to the mentor room.
I've just made it to the District Four station when Alec turns around. "Are you okay? I know I should've followed you, but…"
"No, it's fine. I didn't want you to leave Mike alone. I shouldn't have, either," I say, partially dodging the question. "Is he okay?" I ask worriedly.
"For now," Alec sighs. "Him and One are still arguing. I don't know how much longer it'll be before it turns into actual fighting."
I sit down next to Alec and look at Mike's screen. The three remaining careers are pale-faced and shaky. A few days in the arena will rob you of any strength you think you have. They look so beaten down as they limp along the ice-cold river, but their words are fierce and have venom behind them.
Most of the commentary is coming from Orion. "Tiff didn't have to die. We would have the numbers on our side right now if you would've just done your job," he growls.
Mike glares at him. "It's not like I actually killed her, you know, like you killed my district partner. I'd say we're even so let's just let it go!"
Orion stops in his tracks. "How are you going to try to compare that? Tiffany was in our alliance! The Four girl wasn't!"
I tense up because it looks like they are seconds away from pulling out their weapons.
"You need me," Mike reminds him again. "Good luck trying to fish without me here."
"I don't need you," Orion disagrees, but he turns back around and starts walking again. Meanwhile, Alaina from Two follows in silence, probably trying to avoid taking a side.
"When do you think they'll fight?" I ask Alec. I know it's a question of when, not if. I was in nearly the same situation during my time in the arena. Luckily, I was able to escape into the night before Osten or Kim could slit my throat.
"I think they're too scared to fight each other. It's hard to say who would win," he answers.
"Do you think they might try to kill each other in their sleep?" I ask. I feel a chill as I remember pretending to sleep as whispered voices plotted my death. It's impossible to watch this and not remember my experience. It's so similar that it's unnerving.
"Probably," Alec answers reluctantly. A few moments of silence pass before he speaks again. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look too great."
"None of us look great," I say, dodging the question again. Talking about how I feel can wait until later because I don't need to start crying again. I'm getting really sick of my emotions controlling me. "You should go back to the room to sleep. We can switch again in a few hours," I say.
"I'm good with staying here," he says simply.
I try a few more times to convince him to go back without success. "You're so stubborn," I finally say. I mean for it to come out in a jokingly annoyed way, but I just sound depressed.
Contrary to my prediction, the imminent fight doesn't happen that night, when everyone is at their most vulnerable state. It happens sooner. The three of them are taking a short break from walking when Orion tries to attack Mike from behind.
Mike catches sight of the spear right before it makes impact and is able to move just enough to keep it from being fatal. That split second is all it takes to cross past the point of no return and start a bloody battle. I understand what Alec said earlier about Orion and Michael being afraid to fight because neither knows who would win. They really are physical equals.
I can't watch this. I can't deal with this. It's literally making me sick. Frozen in horror, all I can do is cringe as they chop away at each other. My heart beats in panicky gallops that falter so much it can't be healthy. So many screams… What am I supposed to do? What is the point of me even being here when all I can do is watch?
"Come on, Mike. Come on!" Alec begs through grit teeth. Without thinking, I reach across the desk and start hitting the sponsor screen, not caring to look at the prices or what I'm even ordering. I don't even know what I think this will accomplish. Hopefully a distraction, at least. I just can't bear to sit here and do nothing.
Both boys are getting weak and have suffered terrible injuries by the time the parachute drifts down. I'm desperately hoping it will distract Orion and give Mike the upper hand.
No such luck. They don't even seem to notice, but Alaina from Two walks casually over and picks it up. Alaina! I had completely forgotten she was there. Her face is expressionless and she looks completely indifferent to the fact that her allies are fighting to the death right in front of her.
"What did you send?" Alec asks in confusion, throwing a quick glance in my direction before looking back at the screen.
"I don't know," I mumble unintelligibly. My attention is still focused on the boys, though the girl is threatening to distract me. I get it's her best bet of survival to stay out of the fight, but how can she be so indifferent? For whatever reason, it makes me angry that she doesn't care. At least, I think I'm angry. The mess of emotions in me are being drowned out by stress and fear.
The fight could only have been going on for a few minutes, but it feels like an hour has passed by the time Mike's leg gets cut bad enough for him to fall to the ground. Alaina is suddenly interested in the turn of events because she rushes over to help Orion finish him off. The second and last canon of this year's District Four tributes booms.
And just like that, they're both gone within hours of each other. These two kids who I spent a week getting to know and another week watching over while they were in the arena. Two kids who I was responsible for; who I almost considered my own even though the thought is ridiculous. Sweet, shy Cyana and strong, confident Mike. Both gone.
Mike really did think he would win the Games. Now his family will go on always thinking "what if." What if he hadn't volunteered? What if they never supported him in his ambition to win? Would things have played out any differently? I should know. I'm in a family that has been asking these same questions, even if they are never said out loud.
What hurts the most is the nagging feeling that it's my fault they are dead. I know deep down that all of this is out of my control, but it won't erase the guilt.
All of Four's screens are shut off now. I hang my head down and sigh. I don't think I have the energy to cry anymore.
"Let's go," Alec says, taking my hand. We exit in the same walk of shame that every victor has been through. We're walking through the lobby when the giant screen announces the names of the final four tributes.
"Final four already?" I ask weakly. "It hasn't even been six days."
"Must be a short year," Alec comments. We start walking again, but it's only seconds before something catches Alec's attention enough to make him stop. "Orion's gone," he says.
I look up at the screen and see he's right. An instant replay shows Alaina killing him shortly after Mike's death. By that point, he was too weak to defend himself. It was a low move on Two's part, but these Games aren't meant to be played morally.
The only other name in the final four that means anything to me is Nasser. I really hope he wins. It would help Twelve at the very least. He looks injured and deserves to have someone there for him to send him sponsor gifts. Instead, there's an empty chair back in the mentor room and a lot of wasted money. That's just another problem with this whole system. Nothing is fair, and those who want to fix the problems are punished.
"I want to show you something. It's in my room," I say when we reach the fourth floor. He follows me without question and lays across the bed sleepily when we get there.
"What is it?" he asks in between yawns.
I dig in the drawers of my dresser and pull out just the letter that was addressed to me. I clutch it in my hand and bring it back over to the bed, allowing myself to lean against Alec before I hand it to him. As he reads it, I watch his facial expression to gauge his reaction.
"When did…?" he asks, trailing off.
"Just found it today," I answer. I lean my head into his arm and close my eyes. After a few moments of sad silence, I say, "She was right about us. Our lives, I mean. Maybe it's better things happened how they did."
The words feel wrong. Honestly, I'm not sure what's wrong and what's right anymore. Life or death. Being killed or living as a victor.
I open my eyes to see Alec studying me cautiously. "Mags, are you doing okay? I know this is hard. Just try not to dodge the question this time," he says, brushing a strand of hair out my face.
"You noticed that?" I ask.
"Yeah, and you're doing it again," he says.
Guess I'd better actually answer this time.
"I'm not feeling too great," I admit. "It's been a really bad few weeks and…" I pause to breathe in. Now that I've started talking, there suddenly seems to be so much to say. "I got too attached, and I knew it the whole time. I don't understand how not to get attached, and now that they're gone, I miss them like crazy. Especially Cyana. I don't want to do this, Alec. I hate it. I hate having to watch. I hate knowing there's nothing I can do. And earlier I realized I ha… I'm not happy," I finish glumly.
The look on Alec's face almost breaks me. No, I'm not crying anymore. I blink the tears away before they are able to fall.
"I'm so sorry, Mags," he says. "We'll get through this. The Games are almost over. Soon we'll be back in Four and things will be better. Everything will go back to normal, I promise."
"Only for a few months." I think back to my Victory Tour, when I was so eager to change the way the world worked. Afterwards, I started accepting that things would never change. Now I feel the fire burning in me again. "How can you be happy with any of this? We pretend like everything's fine when it's not. They took your whole family and…"
"We're not talking about that," Alec says a little harshly. Even though I whispered the last part, it's still ridiculously risky to talk about those kinds of things here.
Even if we were back in Four away from any possible eavesdroppers, Alec still wouldn't talk about it. His family is a touchy subject for him, as is anything sounding remotely rebellious. He's paid the consequence for it before, and he never plans on messing up again. I wish I could let it go. I just can't. It's been the source of every major fight we've had. We're still struggling to work through it.
"Sorry," I say. The apology is more for speaking my mind in what could be a dangerous place; not so much for the words themselves. Usually Alec remains distant for a while after I bring up something like that, so I must sound really pitiful for him to forgive me immediately.
It feels so good to be wrapped in his arms. I feel safe and secure. "We all find ways to deal with it. You're one of the best at it," he says.
That last sentence baffles me. "You're just saying that. We both know I'm not," I respond.
"Yeah, you are. You know how to get up and move on. You're able to find the good in things no matter how bad life gets. That's actually what made me fall in love with you."
And there it is. Warmth. I feel it just under the surface of my cheeks and deep in my chest. It extends throughout my body, chasing away the ice and depression. Yeah, my life sucks. There's no denying it. That doesn't mean there aren't things worth living for. I had almost forgotten all the little reasons to smile. Love is one of them.
"I love you too," I squeak out. It isn't the first time we've said these words, but for whatever reason, the impact of them hits me harder than ever in this moment. I can't imagine facing all of this mess without him.
As soon as I try to verbalize these thoughts, my brain blanks out and I suddenly forget how to speak. Where words fail me, my lips do the job. I end up positioning myself across Alec's lap and tangling my hands in his dark hair. The kisses are more sloppy than usual, but the feeling of warmth is so strong that I can't make myself stop. I can get lost in the sensation and not have to feel scared or sad.
It's hard to say how long we go on like that. At least several minutes pass before I hear the sounds of footsteps in the hallway. They come and go, but it is just enough of a distraction to get my unwanted thoughts flowing again. I try so hard not to acknowledge them. All I want is to lose myself and forget all the painful parts of life. Now there's a nagging part of my conscience telling me it's a shame that I'm here making out with Alec, ignoring the fact that my tributes died brutal deaths only hours ago. No, I deserve to be happy. I'm not forgetting them…
Great, now I'm arguing with myself. I can't help but consider that I might be losing my mind.
I hesitate and it takes Alec a minute to realize I've stopped responding. "What's wrong?" he asks. Our faces are still close enough to where our foreheads are touching and his breath is warm against my skin.
"I don't know. Today's been pretty draining," I say. What an understatement.
"Yeah, and I think we both have a few days of sleep to catch up on," he agrees. Just the mention of sleep makes us both yawn.
"Hey, I told you to sleep earlier. Not my fault you didn't listen," I joke. A small smile covers my face when I realize I sounded almost like my normal self when I said it; not the lifeless being I feel like.
We turn in for the night, deciding to stay in my bed. Forget the fact that I'm a restless sleeper and he snores. It beats sleeping alone and being more vulnerable to nightmares.
I curl up against Alec as close as possible, feeling like he's the only thing I have to hold onto. I need a constant in a world where people I care about can easily disappear. I'm in no way healed. I won't be okay with what happened today for a long time, if ever.
As I try to drift into unconsciousness, I start out listing things to be grateful for. When I realize that gives me too much room to think, I switch over to repeating a few words. Three simple phrases:
Breathe. Bad things happen. Life goes on.
If I tell myself this enough, it should sink in eventually. For the rest of my time in the Capitol, I take a deep breath every time negative emotions plant knots in my stomach. I acknowledge that bad things happened. Isidora, Alec, and I talk about it when we have "family" meals at breakfast and dinner. Isidora may be ditzy and stereotypically Capitol, but she is human. She can do a complete one-eighty, immediately switching from making a superficial comment about fashion to a deep statement on the tributes.
Most of all, I focus on keeping my life moving. That's what I've been doing since my own Games, really. It's the same lesson Crystal taught me in the arena. One day when we're both free, Alec and I go to a sit-down restaurant and spend the night visiting Kallan at a fancy hotel. It's not bad at all. I almost feel like a normal person for a few hours. Life isn't perfect, but it will never be. We do the best we can.
The victor is crowned just short of nine days into the Games. Isidora, Alec, and I watch solemnly from the sofa as the final battle between Alaina, Nasser, and a thin girl from Three drags out. Nasser barely manages to take them out and the announcement of Panem's newest victor comes from overhead.
Before I won, I always thought that new victors feel triumphant as the final canon booms. Now, I recognize the flash of horror and disgust in Nasser's eyes. I've been there. I've felt that. He doesn't even remotely resemble the boy I saw at the interviews a week and a half ago. That boy was strong, hopeful. This one is broken. There's no better word to describe it.
He's covered in the blood of other tributes, the kind of blood that will never go away. I remember that the underdog alliance never wanted to hurt anyone. He was pushed to his limit and did what he had to for survival. It's the best thing that could've happened for District Twelve. No one could blame him for it, but I know for sure that he will hate himself for his actions.
No glimmer of hope shows on his expression until the hovercraft comes to pick him up.
The post-Games events fly by after the doctors manage to mend his body back into a healthy condition. The first chance I get to talk to him is at the Victory Banquet in the president's mansion.
I wait until most of the crazed crowds have died off and manage to catch him alone as he stands by a punchbowl.
"Hey, congratulations on winning," I say as I walk up to him.
"Oh, thanks," he says unconvincingly. His eyes flicker to my face, then back to the punch. I get the feeling he's had enough attention and congratulations for one night.
"You're welcome. I know you probably don't feel great, but this is going to mean the world to District Twelve. Parcel Days are the best. Everyone is always so excited when the food train comes," I tell him. I pause after, wondering if he even feels like talking.
He nods slowly and looks back at me. "I hope so. Some people really need it." His gray eyes are studying me hard. It makes me a little uncomfortable, so I look away and focus on his olive-toned hands instead. I imagine he's thinking that those in Twelve need food much more than Four ever has. He would be completely right, of course. The next thing he says throws me off guard.
"You must have been Cyana's mentor."
"Yeah," I say, my face shifting into a frown as I feel a fresh pang of pain.
"She didn't deserve what happened. None of them did. I wish I could've helped them," he says.
"It's okay. Thanks for protecting her. It really meant a lot to see that," I respond. I hope my voice conveys how much I mean it.
Nasser starts to say something else. From the looks of it, it will be a question. However, I never hear it because someone taps him on the shoulder and points towards the staircase, where President Burns is standing. I see Nasser gulp. "I have to go," he says.
Oh yeah, the uncomfortable president-to-new victor talk. I wonder how Burns has threatened him. "Okay. Don't worry, you should be fine. Just be careful," I say, and he nods in understanding.
Come to think of it, those words can apply to the rest of his life.
Chapter 24 Guest review replies:
IRISHDANCER101: Yeah, I'm definitely doing Finnick and Annie's story! :) Thanks for reviewing!
Hi: Thanks so much for the review and suggestion! I'm sorry this update took so long :/
Dusty714: I know I've said this so many times, but I reallyyy love your reviews! I wish you had an account so I could reply to them better! I'll definitely listen to those suggestions :)