Day Nine, Morning

Sebastian Keating, District 6, 17

District Six was always unpleasant in the winter. The weather was never mild, and it was always crowded due to the discounts that went on in the winter markets. I tried pushing through the crowd of eager barterers as they flocked around the streets, searching around for something. There were also poor children, prostitutes and homeless men littering the streets, sometimes begging, sometimes just lying down and accepting defeat in the rain soaked streets. I glanced at them nervously, refusing to pay them any money as I turned into a somewhat more empty side street.

This is where I'd planned to meet her.

The thin side street had filtered the rain slightly, meaning it only fell in a drizzle. After seeing the small figure at the end of the road I made my way towards the figure until her face became clearer and clearer. She turned to me, her lips in an unsure smile. Then she burst into tears and leaned against the wall. I wanted to lean in and hug her, to tell her it was going to be okay, but I couldn't do that. After everything it would be too awkward.

"I have the money," I said nervously, pocketing a bag which was filled with credits. She looked at it unsurely, as if she couldn't quite believe it.

"Where did you get this, Seb?" She said, taking it.

I wiped a lone tear from my eye. "I knew how badly you wanted to do this," I explained. "I-I stole the twins' Christmas presents and sold them into the winter market. They got a lot but I knew you needed this more," I felt sick from the guilt. "They'll just assume they lost it, they're kids. I'll work over the next year to save up the money to get them their toys back. I didn't have any other option..."

Maritza jumped forwards, her arms wrapping tightly around me as she hugged me close. I barely knew this girl. She was just a girl who I'd known vaguely in school. At a party we'd had a brief one night stand and it ended with her being pregnant. In District Six (and in most places in Panem with District One and the Capitol as exceptions) abortion was illegal, but we didn't want to be plunged into poverty. We had no choice but to find a backstreet abortionist who would perform the surgery for the right sum. It was expensive, but Maritza wanted this.

I didn't know how I felt. I liked to think that I was a good person, but I felt like I was doing something bad. It was bad of me to have even slept with a girl I barely knew, and now I was unsure if it would be better to keep it or not. I felt like I was letting my own baby down. But I couldn't let Maritza down - not when it was her own choice, not when the other option would be a lifetime of poverty and hardship for the both of us. I liked to think I was a good guy, but for the first time I was seriously doubting myself. How could I be a good person when I didn't know what good was?

How could I be a good person when in this dog eat dog world I had to do screwed up things just to stay on two feet?

"I'm so sorry," I held onto Maritza myself, sobbing this time.

She pulled away with a blotchy face. She cupped my cheek slightly, forcing a smile.

"You're a good guy Seb, thank you," she turned around, walking from the side street back into the market street. I watched her go regretfully, the rain soaking my hair and clothes completely, making it indistinguishable from the tears. I knew that from then on, despite everything Maritza and I shared, I would never talk to her again. We'd pretend like this never happened.

But I couldn't let go of my past, of who I was.

I sobbed on the floor, the tears cleaning my face of the dried blood. I had been sobbing for the past twenty minutes, though I didn't acknowledge it. I'd just been living in painful memories, and now I saw the mixture of marble and blood spread out before me. I kept wavering between dreams and reality in the tango between life and death. I tried to stand but realised I literally couldn't - even if I could, the burning agony that slowly grew more intense within my stomach. After trying to stand, I immediately keeled over and lay sprawled on my back.

The ceiling was so pretty, laced with gold and dashed with multiple, swirling colours. When I lay still, despite the pain in my stomach and the weakness that came with blood loss, I realised that the pain wasn't there. It was almost like going asleep. A part of me just wanted to lie there and sleep forever. It would've been peaceful. I deserved it after all the bad things I'd done, and I wanted to spare myself from doing even more bad things. The taste of salt hit my tongue as a tear slipped down my face and descended through my lips.

I had to survive. I'd done a lot of messed up stuff but I knew I was a good person. Despite the weakness that drained me to the core, despite the fact I couldn't walk, despite the fact I was minute from death... I rolled over on my stomach, sliding forward with my elbows. The Victor's Vial was still nicely hidden. I could still take it and survive. I moaned and groaned with pain as I moved, leaving a smudged trail of blood in my wake. It took ten minutes just to travel fifteen or so metres to the piano. Gripping onto it for support and shaking madly, I gripped the Victor's Vial.

I was on the verge of collapsing and my vision was going blurry when I downed at least a quarter of the stuff. As soon as I recapped it I placed it atop of the piano and fell back against a marble column. At first I felt nothing bar death's light embrace.

And then the agony came.

I screamed louder than the Eleven girl had tried to scream in her final moments. The agony was more intense than being shot multiple times. My skin burned all over and I felt my body jolt around violently as it was forced to miraculously repair itself. Multiple bullets that had been forced into me wormed their way out, the ruby tinted metal fell to the floor one by one. I thought it couldn't get any worse - but it did. I felt the bones of my kneecaps make a sickening crunching noise as they repaired themselves, one last jolt of powerful agony that sent me sprawled against the floor.

I choked slightly, struggling to breathe with the pain. And then I stood up. I could finally stand up. The weakness I had felt from blood loss had been replaced with the familiar, missed feeling of intense strength. I stumbled around a little bit before I suddenly realised I wasn't the only one who was on the verge of death. There was Trojan. I hadn't heard his cannon fire. He had to be alive, right? My heart skipped a beat when I realised that he could very well be dead. Still shaking, the memory of the pain still coursing through my nervous system, I grabbed onto the Victor's Vial.

I jumped over Willow's still corpse and sprinted over to Trojan, who was across the ballroom from her. He lay still, totally unmoving. I felt his neck for a pulse and felt a very, very faint one. I didn't know what had happened - maybe he was bleeding out, maybe he had suffered some kind of immense brain damage. I unscrewed the cap to the vial, ready to pour it into his lips before pausing.

I could just leave him to die. It would be one less competitor out the way, more of the vial for me and a part of me inside resented Trojan. He wasn't planning to betray me like Carlie did, but he had no loyalty to me and he got me into this stupid situation. I looked down at his still body for a few minutes, contemplating leaving him or saving him.

I wanted to think I was a good person, I had to ignore these callous thoughts.

Wondering if I'd regret it, I got to my knees. I tipped another quarter of the vial down his throat forcefully before the cannon claimed him.

Day Nine, Afternoon

Charity Virtage, District 4 Citizen

It was strange that little Krinda was referred to as a baby - in actuality, I didn't feel like she was a baby. By this point she could babble and was beginning to talk. We sat in Kyliena's living room, which was picturesque and overlooked the sea. I kept pulling faces at Krinda, laughing when she could retort with babbles or her own funny faces. She was the cutest.

I heard the door open and automatically stood up, turning towards the living room doorway. Thankfully it was only my mother who came through with Kyliena. Usually Kyliena would ask me how Krinda was, but this time she was too busy conversing.

"I just wanted to talk somewhere without Amphitrite," my mother said, pushing her hair away from her eyes.

"Okay..."

"We need to blow up the munitions factory," my mother said. Kyliena looked somewhat shocked. "And we need to wreack havoc in general. I talk to Mr. and Mrs. Keenan, they're working with the Hieblers to shutdown Panem's central computing systems," my mother walked over to remove some old computing device, opening it up and showing my mother the screen. "If we can shut down CCTV and perhaps take out a few Peacekeepers, or go in disguise, I think we can do worse than ruin munitions. We can cause some kind of uprising or something."

Kyliene was trying to talk, but she just couldn't find the words. She put her hands to her hips.

"I thought the Keenans were refusing to work with the Hieblers, considering their..." She paused. "History."

I glanced back at the baby, who looked at confused as I did. Maybe she needed to be put to bed. Noticing that the adults didn't even acknowledge me, I let Krinda get tucked away into my arms before lifting her. But I didn't want to take her to bed; the conversation my mother was having was much too interesting to not eavesdrop on. I moved towards the doorway, purposely lingering as Krinda grew impatient in my arms.

"We have a real chance to put Panem down," my mother's aged features grew serious when I glanced at her. She spoke with conviction to the younger rebel, her Capitolian accent becoming more prominent with emotion: "You heard what Olga said. District Thirteen is planning a raid on Panem and they have the backing of a country as powerful as Panem." What? I paused. This was a new development, and it was a promising one for the rebels. "We just need to work with the other rebels to put Panem into a temporary standstill and let District Thirteen do the rest." Kyliena looked tentative.

"We could die..."

"Isn't Krinda's future worth dying for?"

Kyliena sighed, sitting onto the couch and sighing a little bit. She didn't really know what to say.

"A group of District Three rebels were discovered, and they were ruthless, they shot them all one by one and shot their families too," she looked up to my mother gravely. "We still have a rebel communication network in District Three; we're like shadows - no matter what the Capitol does, we'll always be here, we'll always be a political presence. But we've always been immaterial, unable to do something solid, unable to make a change. We just move with the times. And you're telling me we suddenly have a chance?" Kyliena shook her head. "We may have help from warriors. From spies. From scientists. But if we need to change things we need support from the people."

"The Districts hate the Capitol..."

"Is that what they tell you in your Capitolian bubble to encourage District hating?" Kyliena said. "District One and Two love the Capitol. District Four may be at the centre of rebellion, but we're also at the centre of Capitol worship. Every other District is indifferent because of indoctrination and the belief that there is no alternative. District Twelve, Six, Eleven and Eight are the only Districts that truly hate the Capitol. But even then they've grown weary after being beaten by it so much. They're scared to show any sign of protest and I cannot blame my fellow countrymen for feeling that way."

"The Capitol killed your boyfriend, Krinda's father," mother's voice grew firm. "We have a golden opportunity to enact revenge... Can you offer anything but defeatism?"

Kyliena paused. Something my mother said resonated with her.

"Yes," Kyliena sat down. "When do District Thirteen plan to strike?"

"Four days from now, we need to cripple the Capitol in three days..." I paused. The Hunger Games would probably be ending by that point. It would be kind of poetic. Hopefully this could be the last Hunger Games in history... Imagine that...

"We need to come up with an inspiring movement in three days," Kyliena paused. "We need something original, but practical. Innovative but with tradition. We need to stand up and allow our voices to be heard... If you can offer me something like that, I'm going to laugh as the Capitol burns to the ground and District Thirteen grant us our freedoms." Kyliena smiled. "But we need to educate the Career Districts of their oppression, we need to shock people out of their indifference and allow them to discard their fear. We need something!"

I spoke meekly. "There's been a successful revolution before..."

My mother and Kyliena turned towards me.

"I don't mean the first of the second rebellion," I said, pacing towards the bookshelf with Krinda in one arm. My other searched the worn spines for different volumes until I found one about the history of revolutionary Europe. I slipped it out of the shelf with a smile. "It was censored, but that's never stopped any of us from reading it," I smiled, clumsily trying to open it with one hand. As it dropped, it landed on a picture page. Kyliena stooped down to pick it up and saw an image of the storming of the Bastille, her eyes flickering onto the scene. "People have demanded their freedoms before, and they were all inspired to attack. The royalty said 'let them eat cake', and the proletariat weren't going to have that. They deserved more than that."

Kyliena paused, somewhat amazed. I barely knew about the revolution in France, but most other people knew nothing of it.

"How did you find this?"

"Remember how Olga told us these Games were an attempt to soothe rebellion?" I said. "Well I researched into the arena; I wanted to know what Versailles was, and the robots said the words 'bourgeoise,' which was a new word to me. I was curious. And I found that ironically these Games have been the most rebellious yet in their intrinsic nature. They're set in a Palace which is destined to fall to the people."

Kyliena smirked.

"This could work," she turned to my mother, looking almost emotional with joy. "But we have a busy few days ahead of us."

Jericho Aylin, District 2, 18

You know when you had a bad feeling about something?

Well I definitely had a bad feeling about something.

I think I was at the top floor of the Palace - the only thing above was a rooftop, and I entered a doorway which showed many descending flights of stairs that could have led me to any of the floors below. Somewhere amongst those floors were nine other tributes who wanted to kill me - assuming there were none in the grounds outside. If the Palace wasn't so big I'd be scared; in actuality we were so much compressed than we would be if we were in a forest arena, but the many rooms, stairways and corridors made this arena labyrinthine.

But the cannons continued to fire, and they fired more frequently than they used to. There was a cannon that fired about an hour or two ago. It was kind of bad that I liked the influx of deaths - it meant that I was that much closer to getting home. But then again, I was supposed to not care about the death. I was supposed to enjoy it, even, as long as it wasn't me dying. That was what I signed up for.

I glanced down the circular, ongoing stairwell for a few seconds before turning back and walking into the corridor which I had walked down earlier. A long mirror made its way down the wall, and snaking patterns twirled down the tiled floors. Afternoon sunlight seeped in. I walked down slowly, thinking a little bit. I wasn't going to say anything, but for the first time I was beginning to question... everything. My whole worldview had been put down to scrutiny. I just kind of took the Hunger Games for granted without questioning the implications of so many kids always dying.

Until I'd actually participated in them, the Hunger Games were just a thing. A cultural phenomena. A game. An event I participated in to win the pride of my father and enough wealth to make me comfortable for life. I think that was because I lived in a culture which just ignored it. And then I was virtually raised in the training centre which purposely desensitised me, getting me used to the notion of death. I saw the sadness, tragedy and death on a TV screen but I somehow felt separated from it... The Games looked so much more glamorous on TV. When it was in front of you it was tragic, destructive and awful.

I was broken from my thought process when the ceiling above collapsed - or at least I thought it did. I stepped back as a hatch was forced open and another stairway virtually landed right in front of me, leading into a dark floor above. My stomach churned. Looked like this wasn't the highest you could go, after all. And for some reason I had a bad feeling about going up there.

"It's me, Jericho," I immediately grabbed the hilt of my sword when I realised Pullox was speaking. "You know you want to join me."

Pullox was one of the more dangerous people in the arena. He wasn't as good a fighter as Honora and I, but he was devious and he had a gun. We didn't part on bad terms - we were forcefully separated after Honora wreaked havoc on the remains of the Career alliance. But he was a twisted person, and I know he was willing to kill me. I hesitated before deciding to ascend the stairs. I had to kill Pullox, it was decided. I had to narrow down the competition if I wanted to survive, and though Pullox was small and skinny he was certainly competition.

I made my way up the stairs, which creaked eerily. Eventually I made my way into the highest floor, though it was incredibly hard to breathe. I was surrounded by dust. About twenty-metres in front of me there was an extremely large circular window which provided the room's light source - the sun illuminated the contents of the room: it wasn't glamorous at all, unlike ninety percent of the rest of the Palace. It was a load of dusty furniture bundled together; matted beds, worn down couches, broken lamps and crates filled with old clothes, toys or other knick-knacks. It was some kind of attic.

As I stepped forward I heard Pullox speak again:

"You know they tell you to never keep your back turned in Career training," I leapt to the source of the voice. I could see a figure in the shadows. "Can you see me, Jericho?"

"Pullox?" I unsheathed my sword slightly, stepping forward hesitantly. "Is that you?"

"Come find out..."

I looked for any cover I could jump to incase Pullox decided to utilise his gun. I noted the crates, the furniture and other things I could jump behind. As I made my way slowly to the figure I heard Pullox's laugh and realised it seemed to be coming from everywhere. Whatever that figure was, it wasn't him. But it wasn't a mutt either. My heart began to race a little as I put myself on high alert. Eventually when I reached the figure my eyes adjusted and I paused in shock, looking down at her.

It was the District Ten girl. I remembered her well from the Bloodbath, and considering how small and doll-like she was I was shocked she'd made it so far. But she'd certainly taken damage: she was covered in soot and dirt, covered in cuts and bruises and she had a noticeable gun wound around her shoulder. She was held down by chains and slowly turned to look up at me. As soon as she did, she looked relieved. I paused. Did she not remember who I was? I'd literally chopped her ally in two in the Bloodbath... For her to be relieved to see me must've implied she was in a desperate situation.

"Help me," she squeaked, standing up a little and pulling on her chains. She was chained to some kind of radiator. She desperately tried to pull herself free, screaming with desperation. "Help me before he's back-"

"What?" I paused, keeping my grip on my sword. This was... weird. "What's he done?"

"He's a monster," she squeaked. Her District Ten olive skin was suddenly pale. She trembled crazily. "J-Just get out of here before he's already here," she glanced at me. "You have a sword. You can help me..."

"I think he's already here," I said, crouching down and looking at the chains that held her. They didn't look strong at all, come to think of it. I think a sword could've certainly split them apart. But her hands would still be tied together. I tried to think of a way to help her, even though I knew I should've been killing her. But it would've been an unfair fight to just get rid of someone who was so helpless and tied up.

"I am," a voice said behind us.

We both turned to the source of the noise, shocked. Pullox seemed a lot taller than he was; he set a large spectre as the sun shone behind him. I could barely see his shadowed face, but I knew he would've had that smug grin that he usually wore. In his hand, to my dismay, was his trusty gun. He didn't seem ready to use it just yet. He looked at Carlie and then at me.

"Carlie makes the perfect victim, doesn't she, Jericho?"

"Pullox, what is this?" I said hesitantly, as if he were an old friend.

"A revelation..."

I wasn't ready for mind games, not now. Knowing that this was some kind of bullshit ploy, I decided to resort to diplomacy. "We were allies, Pullox, okay?" Instead of dropping my sword I made sure to be safe, putting it in my sheath to show that I wasn't prepared to fight - not just yet. I slowly stood, raising my hands. Pullox didn't even aim his gun at me, but I knew he definitely could. "We don't have to fight."

"Allies don't exist in the Games."

"No? What if I told you we were friends?"

"I'd tell you you were being stupid," Pullox moved over to a crate, sitting on it. So he was being casual. That was a good sign for now. I looked at Carlie briefly, and she looked absolutely mortified to be in Pullox's presence. "What's the matter, Jericho? I don't understand why you're acting like you're treading on glass. Considering your reaction you'd think I was trying to kill you or something."

"Maybe you are."

"I'm only here for this little one," Pullox gestured at Carlie. "Do we kill her, or don't we?" I raised an eyebrow. "She's a District kid. She's useless, she's tied up. All it would take is a sword to the throat and she'd be little more than a corpse..." I glanced down at Carlie. "What do you say, Jericho? Do we kill her? Or are you not a Career? Are you going to rescue the damsel in distress and kill me?" I glanced to the Ten girl, then to Pullox, who standing up a little bit. "I'd say it's an easy choice, especially for a Career. Or you could try and kill us both..."

Pullox threw something to the floor at my feet. I was hesitant at first but saw that it was a key. I stooped down and picked it up. Something was definitely wrong. And I couldn't kill a wreck of a girl who was crying whilst being chained to the floor. Carlie desperately struggled in her chains as I unsheathed my sword, looking at her. She didn't even speak. Her wide eyes just pleaded me silently as I stepped closer to her.

When I slotted the key into the chain and twisted it, feeling it unlock, she exhaled with relief. The chains fell to the ground and she rubbed her bruised wrists before glancing to Pullox, whose lips went thin with displeasure.

"Well, looks like we do need a revelation, because you will kill her," I grabbed Carlie, preparing to duck for cover. "Because, my big oath Career friend, it was Carlie who killed Lorelei's baby."

What?

It took a second for the notion to sink in. And despite not knowing Carlie I suddenly felt sick. I still clung to her wrist and turned to face her. What? I felt confusion more than anger. This didn't make sense. I barely knew her. How did she creep into the Career camp like that? I let go of Carlie who backed away from me fearfully, her back pressing against the wall. Tears fell from her eyes as she desperately looked for some kind of escape. Pullox aimed his gun at her and she screamed, though he spoke over her:

"I accessed the camera system," Pullox told me. "I virtually got to watch the Games myself. When we were all on watch and Lorelei almost slept she crept into the room. She'd heard the noise after the fight with Magnus," I backed away from her, the confusion suddenly burning into anger. This still didn't make sense... Honora admitted to doing it. And Carlie didn't have a grudge against us, did she? She didn't even know that Lorelei was pregnant. "She knew it would destroy the Careers and give her an advantage. She knew Lorelei was pregnant after hearing Lorelei weep for her baby."

"No," I felt vomit rise the my mouth, the acidic taste permeating through my tongue. Disgustingly, I forced it down, wiping around my mouth before I spoke: "Is this true?" I asked her. "Is it?"

"Please, I-I..." She burst into tears. "I didn't mean it..."

"You did," I remembered her closing the door on her ally. She is the kind of person who'd do something so twisted and awful. The rage suddenly controlled me; I lost self control. "You meant every second of it." I was even more furious because she had played victim and because I was willing to fight Pullox to help her. She didn't deserve any help. And to think of all the suffering Honora had gone through despite not actually doing the crimes she was accused of. "You're sick. You're evil."

I didn't even reach for my sword. I was just overtaken with rage. As I moved towards her she skirted out of the way, narrowly avoiding my fist which smashed through the wooden wall with ease; I felt blood seep from my knuckles but felt no pain. Carlie desperately rushed towards the open hatch, but Pullox kicked it shut and just smirked at her. She gave him a very peculiar look. I realised Pullox was getting some entertainment value from this, but I didn't care. He was keeping her trapped, so he was helping, and I wanted to kill her. I wanted to beat the life out of her.

Carlie desperately rushed towards the window, screaming and beating her hands against it like it helped. She couldn't jump out of it unless she wanted to die. I stormed towards her and she could only glance at me with terror. When I got to her she tried to skirt away again, but my trained reflexes got there first. A single hand found itself wrapped against her delicate throat. Her screams were immediately silenced as I pined her against a half broken, dusty desk. I slammed her head down onto it which forced a suffocated howl out of her again.

I watched her thrash around with fear as I squeezed the life out of her. I repeatedly smashed her head harshly against the table. She squirmed and kicked, but to no avail. Her hands grabbed onto mine and tried to claw into it, but it was useless. I watched with some satisfaction as she was close to death. Eventually, she managed to scream something:

"P-Please..." She choked. "Y-You're being..." She spluttered, barely being able to breathe. "You're being tricked."

Another wave of shock hit me. I didn't know what to think. I released my grip on her neck and she desperately sucked in air. She began spluttering wildly, her saliva hitting my hands. I just let go of her, watching her slump to the ground. I grabbed the hilt of my sword as she rolled over, heaving heavily before she could even get the opportunity to talk. Maybe I would just decapitate her and get this over with, assuming she had nothing else to say.

"What do you mean?" I said. I then slowly glanced at Pullox, who was aiming a gun at me.

"We made a deal," she was still struggling to breathe. She gripped onto the edge of the desk. "H-He didn't tell me much. He just told me to be his prisoner, he told me I'd live if I did it," she crawled forwards a little bit. I kept alternating my eyes between her and Pullox. I knew he was ready to pull the trigger. I just had to be prepared to dodge, to know what would provoke him to pull it. The thing is, I don't think Pullox was capable of anger. He didn't pull the trigger out of greed, anger, jealousy or fear... He just pulled it because he thought it'd be fun. I remembered the amusement he expressed when he held a gun and a knife to my jaw.

"Is this true?" I said to him, trying to repress the feeling of fear.

"Yes," Pullox waved his gun at Carlie. "Do tell him more." She glanced at him and he just nodded at her. "I want to see his face."

This was such a mindfuck.

"He told me that you'd come," Carlie began trembling, and then began to stutter. "H-He told me that you'd probably want to help me if I acted victimised enough," suddenly I grew even more scared of Pullox when I realised he could calculate my behaviour quite accurately. "Then he told me that if I told you I killed Lorelei's baby you would lose your mind. You'd lose all sanity and you'd be an easy victim for the both of us," my stomach dropped when I realised I'd been duped. So it wasn't Carlie? Was it Honora? I slowly glanced at Pullox.

"Was it you?" I said.

Pullox's hair was wilder than usual. He slicked it back, making his way to a dusty couch and sitting on it. He spread his arms and legs, as relaxed as ever. "I think the question you should be asking is who you can trust here?" I glanced at Carlie, who was standing slowly, her legs flopping around like jelly. "I'm your old ally with a mean streak and a penchant to play games. Carlie is a little traitor who plays the victim quite well despite being anything but. To what extent are we working together? Did Carlie really kill Lorelei's baby, or is she lying about lying?"

"You are sick," I hissed at him. "She's just a chesspiece to you."

Panting, Carlie gratefully put her hand on my shoulder. She was still shaking.

"Thank you..." She said to me, smiling. "Because Pullox was right. You never learn."

There was a feeling of something being jabbed into me, followed by a flying horror I'd never experienced before as wetness ran down my legs. I glanced down and saw that a pair of scissors had been stuck right into my crotch. As the horror elevated, the pain exploded inside my crotch and I screamed bloody murder. I keeled over, my senses completely lost amongst the powerful pain as blood continued squirting out of the wound. The scissors were still jammed.

"Fuck!" I screamed, tears slipping out of my eyes. I almost fell onto my knees. I heard Pullox laughing in the background. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! You fucking..." I didn't even finish the sentence, glancing Carlie in the eyes.

"Don't worry," she smirked. "It's a man's dick that makes him weak."

I didn't even have the strength to fight. I was in a complete agony that I didn't think was possible. Carlie then grabbed me with both of her hands - she could barely carry me, but all she had to do was forcefully push me and I wasn't in my position to fight. I was throttled forward and felt myself fall through the large window, the sound of smashing glass hit my ear as my body and broken shards fell down.

In stories, when people fell to their deaths they fell in slow motion. But I felt the quickness. I was in the air, jumbling limbs and a brief scream, for two seconds. The sound of my skull breaking against the pavement was only briefly audible after the sound of smashed glass had subsided. The slowness came when I lay on the pavement, twitching eyes staring emptily into the sky while the contents of my skull leaked into the cobblestone, running in red rivers down the cracks. I was only alive for twenty more seconds as my brain slowly shut down, but it felt like a lifetime.

A lifetime of regrets. A regret that I couldn't appease my father, and then regret that my father's appeasement relied on this. I hoped he didn't hate me. I hoped he didn't think I was stupid. But even more than that I hope watching his son dying on a cold floor in some outside courtyard didn't hurt, too. My sight briefly flittered to a canopy that stretched out of a tree, like multiple green veins and systems. When my gaze fluttered back to the broken window, which looked like a scattered jigsaw, Carlie and Pullox stood together triumphantly looking down at me.

I tried to speak. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

"By the way," Pullox spoke loudly, hoping I could still hear. "I did kill Lorelei's baby." A sharp laugh filled the air as he shouted down at me: "I'll tell Honora you apologised!"

No...

I turned to face my arm which was shaking, desperately trying to force me to stand up. It suddenly went completely limp, and my sight faded a split-second afterwards.

Why do I finish every chapter feeling the need to apologise? :/ I think by this point it's quite apparent that this is going be the Games at their worst - people are going to die quite regularly now. There's going to be a lot less mercy and a lot more drama.

Anyway, reviews will be much appreciated :) although try to not argue in the reviews XD

Also, thank you ToxicFan, sorry you can't get onto fanfiction, you're very kind.

Eulogies!

Willow: God, why did I choose to kill you? You were one of my favourites from the beginning. I think a lot of people didn't like you at first, but as the Games went on - with the help of Iopian - you began to show yourself as both a competent and humane person who was wise beyond her years. You outlasted many allies who were stronger than you were, and I think towards the end of the Games many began to think you really did have a chance. Maybe you would have, but you were up against tough competition and you were thrown into a very unfortunate situation which you sadly didn't get out of :( RIP.

~Toxic