quick little fun fact: this is the 20th chapter of this story (and the 27th part bc I like to add a bunch of little a/ns and other fun stuff)! I'm actually surprised this story got that far, and I'm glad you're still here too <3

also, would you guys be interested in me publishing any of those little fun random chapters? they're not so much stories as they are like tribute descriptions, a playlist, fun facts abt this book, and character name meanings

some of them won't be finished until this book is (tribute info!) but they might be cool anywayssss...

okay okay ik this chapter has a lot of a/ns but hahahaha Vulcan's dead! I rly don't like that guy I'm glad I got to kill him off

The sand was cold beneath my feet, my eyes lingering on the burnt cornucopia behind me. Terra was already in the water, shivering as she swam, the water enveloping me next, cocooning me in its freezing depths. 

This ocean felt so familiar and yet so completely different. The water was salty and cold, with seaweed lining the depths and fish mingling about within, yet there was something off about it--the slight bubbles that rose from that spot there, and there too; the utter lack of larger animals, like sharks or whales. 

Honestly, it was against everything I'd been expecting. Why have an ocean in the Hunger Games, if not to put deadly beasts in it? If I were a Gamemaker, these waters would be stocked to the brim with bloodthirsty dinosaurs who could sense a tribute from a mile away. 

But then again, that is a morbid thought that I really really don't want to have, because I am not a Gamemaker, nor will I ever be, nor do I ever want to be. I have already told myself that I won't let myself kill; have already made the promise to myself that I'd die before going in the games--and broken it. 

Why?

Terra looks up from where she's finally reached the beach and smiles, and I think I've found my answer. 

***

"We should talk," I say, turning my body to face hers from where we are both sitting on the beach, making sure one of my hands is still steady on my makeshift bamboo fishing pole. We silently agreed that fishing with spears would be too exhausting and fruitless, and so fishing poles it is. 

Terra's smile fades, and she glances at me out of the corner of her eye. "Okay, fine."

Her tone is not at all pleased, but I let it go, speaking first because I have no doubt she wouldn't, even when given the chance. "Why'd you hate me, Terra, and why don't you anymore?"

Her gaze flickers away from mine once again, back out to the wide open sea. 

"You already know why I hate you."

"So you still do?"

I'm quick to jump on the response. Even if it's not the one I wanted, it is an answer, and with Terra, those seem to be valuable. 

She rolls her eyes, but there is a slight smile on her face. "Don't jump to conclusions, Grasshopper."

I smile too, looking up at the dark night sky and wondering where the cameras are hidden. Who is watching us? Is Vulcan's family crying over the death of their beloved son, praying for the gory demise of his murderer?

I hope that the world is watching this right now, this peaceful, friendly scene, and believing that maybe, after the storm, there must always be a calm. That death happens and cannot be prevented, but life moves on, and relationships heal, and people change. 

But, again, this is the Hunger Games. I can't expect anyone to view anything inside it through rose-colored glasses when the only perspective they have ever seen is murder and violence--when, honestly, the only perspective there really is violence.

I am sitting here with Terra and it feels like paradise (however harsh her words may be), but mere hours ago two boys--children--died in front of me, a third becoming a murderer. 

A shiver runs through my body, although it may just be the cold breeze whispering in the air, reminding my of the danger I already feel coursing through my bones.

"I wasn't trying to jump to conclusions--just trying to get you to say something. You're really not talking to me, Terra," I say after a long pause, smiling slightly, as if making a joke of the whole thing. 

Terra doesn't chance a glance in my direction. "I'm talking to you right now," she responds, and although her words feel like they should be sarcastic, her tone isn't. 

"Well, I mean, you're talking but you aren't really saying anything, you know?"

Terra hesitates, pulling at her line as if willing a fish to pull. She lays down on the sand, staring up at the sky, one hand still gripped around her pole protectively. I mirror her, sand burrowing into my hair--but really, right now, I don't care. 

"What do you want me to say then, Daphne?" Terra asks, her tone quiet and inquisitive. I'm silent for a moment, thinking.

"I don't know," I whisper, unable to find an answer that could satisfy both of us. There is another silence, this one not quite as long as the ones before, eventually broken by Terra. 

"You want me to forgive you," she murmurs, although in the quiet of the night, I can hear her perfectly fine. 

"Of course I do," I blurt out. "Why wouldn't I?"

She turns her head to the side, meeting my eyes, smiling slightly as she readies to defend her point. "A million different reasons! I mean, we're in the Hunger Games. Neither of us is going to last more than a few more weeks. Shouldn't betrayal be final, with that long left?"

"I don't see how I ever betrayed you."

"Stop changing the subject--you know how you betrayed me, I've already told you. Get over it. I was an asshole to you. Why did you forgive me?"

I'm slightly put off by Terra's seemingly-rude words contrasting with her calm and smiling demeanor, but I, as she says, 'get over it' soon enough. "I don't like holding grudges, and honestly, I'd want you as a friend either way, whether you hated me or not--I mean, preferably when you don't hate me, obviously."

"Obviously," she agrees, and then pauses for a brief moment. "I didn't hate you, though. I don't think it's possible to hate someone that quickly, the same way it's not possible to love someone so fast, you know? You've got to think it through and decide whether it's right or not, because once you do you can't really undo it--you're just fucked."

I disagree, but I don't tell her. Sure, hate takes time and energy to develop; but love is quick and sharp, a breath of fresh air after a lifetime spent indoors. It's wonderful, and the greatest tragedy in life would be to never experience it. 

"I think I'm fucked, then," I whisper quietly, a smile forming on my face as I stare up at the generated stars, winking quietly in the otherwise-total darkness. 

"Aren't we all?" Terra responds, gesturing out to the island, mentioning the other tributes and how we are all soon going to meet our untimely deaths--except one of us, who will instead find the life of their physical body and the death of their mental state. 

"No, I mean me, specifically," I say, still watching the sky. Terra doesn't respond, and my breath catches in my throat. 

"I think I love you, Terra."

***

okay I rly love terra's little monologue abt love vs hate in this chapter! it's actually so adorableee