The snow flutters down around me like white butterflies. I stare through the flurries to where the bridge once stood. There is no way back to the Cornucopia. To me, this drives home the fact that there is no going back to where I was before these Games started.

Do I like what I've become? I don't know, but it doesn't matter now because going back to who I was before is impossible now.

"Meri?"

I spin around, eyes narrowing. Then I relax a little.

"Wiley..." I sink to my knees in the snow, almost crying in relief. He's alive. I want to make it out of this place, but I don't want to see him die either.

Another thought strikes me then. If I win, he dies. Can I live with that? My jaw clenches. Yes. I can. I'm strong enough for it now. After all, I left Beckett to the wild animals after nearly killing him. I doubt he survived that. And I abandoned Alex to the Wendigos.

"Meri?" Wiley repeats the forlorn cry.

I open my arms to the shaking child. "It's me..."

He rushes to me, throwing his arms around my neck and sobbing.

One moment of letting my guard down is all it takes. Because I let myself live in the moment and hug him back, he ends up dead. A growl sounds from a few feet away, and then something heavy slams into us.

The momentum sends me flying back, and I lose my grip on Wiley. My eyes meet his as I slam into the snow near the snapped supports of the ruined bridge. I start to yell for him to run.

The wolf is on him before I can.

I pull a dagger out and shove myself up. Then I launch myself at the wolf, stabbing the blade down into its spine. I hit it behind the skull, driving the blade in deep and paralyzing the creature just as it digs its teeth into Wiley's neck.

Wiley screams as I force the beast off him and drop to my knees. He stares up at me with tears in his innocent eyes. How can he still hold this innocence when he's seen so much death? I press my fingers to the jagged bite marks on his neck, trying to stop the gushing crimson tide. "Wiley... Wiley, stay with me."

His eyes glaze over, and he coughs, spraying blood everywhere. I shake my head, gathering him into my arms and cradling him there. "Wiley, no..." I groan, crying as I hold him.

What can I do to save him? Frantically, I move to dig through our packs. They're empty. Think, Meri! What would Az do? I don't know.

Snow. It's the only thing I can think of. I grab thick handfuls of the stuff with numb fingers and press it to his wounds.

It melts as his blood soaks through. I try to pack more in, but get the same result.

He's fading too fast.

Then he stops breathing. Wind ruffles my hair, and I kneel in the snow, stupefied.

He's still okay, right? My heart won't accept it. But my mind does. He isn't... He's dead. Just like Az, Milan, and Alex. Like everyone you've ever allowed into your heart.

"No... No..." I whisper, staggering to my feet and staring at his broken body. "No!" I scream into the sky. "How could you kill him?" I'm yelling at the Gamemakers, Capital citizens, and anyone who'll listen.

Just one more life wasted.

One more ripped prematurely from this Earth.

I wake from the dream. "Wiley?" I moan.

With a sob, I slide off the bed onto the cold floor of my room. My fingers grope at the wooden floorboards, trying to touch his warm skin again. He's not gone. I can't accept it.

But he is...

He is...

He's gone because I've won. I huddle there on the ground, tears streaking my face. An unintelligible groan slips from my lips as I mourn for him all over again. Moonlight streams in through my window, reminding me of another, similar night. One that meant going home for me and death for two others.

Melody stands over him, triumphant in the silvery moonlight. I watch from a distance, wondering how he could've survived my stab wounds and the wolves. I thought he'd died. But I wasn't in any state the night I did it to watch the sky. Running from nightmares straight from Hell will do that to a girl.

Blood shines darkly in the moon's wan glow, and the cannon goes off, heralding his death.

Beckett Malen.

The boy who killed the one person I loved in this arena. And by extension broke every semblance of sanity I had left. In a way, I suppose I ought to thank him. As much as the process hurt, he was still the one to free me from the prison of my own making.

From here, I can see that Melody literally ripped the boy apart. I don't know how she did it, and she doesn't seem like the sort to be so brutal, but she did. Beckett's body is covered in oozing burns and blood. My stomach churns as I notice that he's missing an arm and leg. Is that what she'll do to me if given the chance? For a moment, I marvel at the fact that I don't feel anything. I don't feel disgust, savage joy, or pity. I'm just empty.

Then Melody turns, and I know it's just us.

One will die.

One will go home.

Do I want to go home? I ask as she begins to lope wearily towards me. My feet fall into a familiar fighting stance, and I smile grimly. I don't know... But if she kills me, I'll never find out.

We meet in a flurry of movement. I force my body into a sprint, relishing the wind in my face and the bitter sting of ice and snow as it lashes against my cheeks. My blade slides in fluidly, heading for her hamstrings. She just manages to block it with her dagger.

I yank another dagger from my belt and spin to the side as she tries to bring her own blade into my torso. I slide my foot out, and she trips over it, face-planting in the snow. I know part of her problem is fatigue.

But I'm not tired.

I'm revitalized.

I haven't been fighting anyone, and all of the pent up anger, pain, and energy comes out in a rush. You have to win this! You promised him.

Melody struggles to her knees, trying to slash through my ankles' tendons. But the blade gets caught in the thick material of my boots, leaving her with only one knife when I prance to the side. As she tries to plunge it into my calf, I dance back.

Her knife meets only air. I will win this. I have to because I'm not going to go back on the promise I made.

I smile as I pull my throwing stars out of a pocket and back up. Now that she's further away, it should be easier.

My fingers caress the pointed tips of the star, and I pull it back, letting go and sending it straight into her right arm. She drops her last knife with a scream as blood gushes from the place where my throwing star has embedded itself in her flesh.

Snow swirls around us as I send another one spiraling into her leg. As soon as she's down, I stalk over to her. Kicking her knife away, I lean down to stare into her pain wracked face. She doesn't have the strength to lift her arms, but she tries to.

I smile down at her. "I'm sorry. But I don't want to die like he did."

She hisses at me. "I could've made it fast."

I roll my eyes. "But you wouldn't have." My fingers press into her skull at the points where Milan taught me. I place a steady pressure until she screams. A few seconds later, she goes limp. I'm going to make this as painless as possible, but right now, I want to see something bleed. I don't know why, but I don't try to puzzle it out. I slam the heel of my palm into her nose. It breaks with a sickening crunch, driving the bone up into her brain.

Just like that, it's over. As wind howls around me, I watch her whole body convulse as she struggles to hold on.

The cannon goes off as she stills.

My adrenaline rush fades, leaving me exhausted and shaking. I sink to my knees in the fluffy snow as the reality of it floods in. She is the first and last person I've killed in cold blood in this arena. And I didn't make it clean. I could've, but instead, I chose a way that was brutal. She might not have felt it, but it's still messed up. Why would I do this? I've won, but at what cost?

Regardless, her death has allowed me to keep living. It wasn't worth it, my mind screams. You should be lying there dead. Not her. I bite my lip to keep the mournful keening in. I can't seem to process what's happened. An unforgiving fog sets in, and I wonder why I'm here. She was my ally. Why did I kill her again?

Regardless, a murderer like me shouldn't be allowed to live. I didn't even feel anything as I stole her life. I've become some sort of killing machine. My gaze falls down to my bloodied hands.

Then my eyes drift back up to Melody's blood-drenched face and waxy complexion. Tremors take over, pinning me in place. I lean over, clutching my stomach and throwing up my last meal. Mostly, it's just bile since I haven't eaten much in the last two days.

The sound of a hovercraft's motor fills the air as the eerie wind dies suddenly. Birds begin to whistle and chirp around me as the thing descends, its claw coming for me.

They can't have a winner. I kept my promise. I won. But they must see that I'm not their puppet. I'll choose how I go out. I surge to my feet, forcing back another wave of nausea and bolt. I run across the flat snow, racing to find the edge.

The edge between death and life.

But they caught me. They caught me as I was sailing through the air, ready to meet the inky black water below.

They didn't save me, though.

They damned me.

I huddle on the freezing floorboards and run my fingers through my hair, trying to keep my breathing steady. Sobs win out, and I hunch over, letting the wails come. "Why?" The keening continues, unintelligible from that point on.

No one comes.

No one hears my screams and sobs.

So I keep my agonized vigil for those I loved and lost, abandoned and cast off by the Capital and my district.

I came back home thinking that someone would take me in. That at least a few people would care. It was a foolish hope, but I held it anyway. Because if I didn't, I would be forced to face the reality that I am facing now.

No one wants me.

No one needs me.

So end it. End it like you planned to in the arena.

The thought isn't a new one. I've thought about it often in the past two years since winning. I have thought about it as I watched those I was supposed to train die in the arena. I've done it every year alone because I'm the only victor of 13.

And I am done.

I'm tired and lonely.

End it.

Choking back sobs, I go downstairs, gliding down the polished steps in my black nightgown. Nothing in the house is colorful. Everything is some shade of grey, dark blue, or black. And there is no white in this empty place.

After the arena, I couldn't stand the sight of white anymore. I almost wish now I had kept it all white. White to remind me that nothing is truly pure or innocent.

White to remind me of how horrible I am if I'm in a good mood. I shouldn't ever be happy here. Not after the killing that I've done to gain this place. It wasn't worth it. It never was.

My feet slap against the freezing black ceramic of the kitchen's floor as I go to a drawer and pull out a knife. It's time to be done with this whole thing. From the start of my foster mother's abuse to this moment I've wanted to do this, but I haven't been strong enough.

I am now.

The knife scrapes harshly across my left wrist, digging in deep. Blood wells from the gash. I stare at it, wondering when the pain will register. It takes it a few moments, but it does. Stinging pain and then numbness come as I finish the movement, cutting through the vein there. The blood gushes from my wrist, vermillion against the snowy white of it. I haven't gone outside in ages. It hurts to see the sun and the joy of others, so I keep my shades drawn.

If the people of the world wish to shun me, so be it. I've cast them away as well.

There's no one left for you here. You'll never find love again. You'll never be happy here, and you don't deserve to take another breath on this planet. My subconscious whispers this to me as I ponder my other wrist, ignoring the throbbing of my left. If I die tonight, will I see those I've wronged on the other side? Will I be able to apologize for taking their lives so callously?

Maybe. But it doesn't matter. I just want to see my loved ones again and leave the pain of this place behind.

The second wrist is quicker. Easier. The knife slashes through my vein in a swift, seamless movement. My hands don't even shake. I'm ready to meet you, Death. Let others live on in this mud ball called Earth. As for me, I've lived here in agony for long enough.

A heavy tiredness overtakes me as my blood drips over my wrists and splashes onto the tiles. I listen to the steady dripping noise as my blood hits the floor. Dropping to my knees, I let it soak into my nightgown as I rest my hands serenely in my lap.

It's okay. I don't want to stay anymore. I'm ready for a new adventure. One that, I hope, will have more joy in it than this sad tale of mine did. The only happy memories I have of this life are with people who are gone. I can't wait to be reunited with them.

My eyes flutter closed, and I curl up on the floor as my life force drains from me. My cheek rests on the cold tile, and a soft smile flits over my lips as I become sleepier. Dizziness swoops over me, but I accept it without flinching or moving.

Warmth drifts over me as my mind fades away. Light envelopes my weary body, and I sigh as I finally find my peace. As the world ebbs away from me, I run through a vast meadow of daisies and waving grass, which sways in the summer breeze. The sky is a watercolor painting of blue, and the sun is like a fairytale popup in the immense ocean of sky. The only thing missing is sound.

At the end of the meadow, Milan waits. I finally step over the last barrier between us as the final drop of life fades from my body, seeping out onto the black floor of my kitchen. The sound that was missing before floods in with vivid, rich tones.

A blue butterfly dances on the wind in front of me, joining a pale yellow one in the air just above my head. The cicadas are singing in the trees, and Milan's beautiful laugh rushes in to fill the void in my heart. I throw my arms around his neck with an exuberant laugh, and he swings me around in a circle before setting me down. Then he presses his warm lips to mine in a passionate kiss. "Welcome home, Meri."