DISTRICT 2 FEMALE- AMELIA MONTAIGNE

Amelia woke up to the night still playing and the stars dancing away with one another, winking at her in conspiring ways. Green eyes flashed open and for a moment time stood frozen. The poppies caught in the wind, blowing towards her. The air smelled sweet and faintly of untold decisions. Trees held their ground.

Them suddenly, light. Filling the sky. Deaths, so bold and vivid. Real. Telling names and showing pictures but missing out on so much of the lives they had lived. Not explaining how or why--just a simple, horrible truth.

"I'm still alive," she whispered, "and I have to keep it that way." Saying it aloud makes it real. "Amelia." I'm real too. "I'm Amelia." I'm here, I'm alive, my heart has yet to stop beating. "I'm Death, like a poppy, blooming up and nearly forgotten about, but always creeping away until finally everyone but myself is dead."

Her words flew like poetry from her mouth and illuminated the world. Or perhaps it was simply the glow from an artificial moon and stars that coincided with the lights that still played out the last three deaths.

Electra died? There was a small prick in Amelia's chest that grew at the sight of her face. Electra had looked fierce in her picture. Vivid. Striking. Everything except for dead. It simply didn't make sense--how can she be dead?

"No," Amelia said. Her voice cracked.

For a moment she just laid there, her head rested upon the ground and her body tightly coiled together. Electra, the girl who saved her life, the girl she saved, the girl who wasn't what she appeared to be, was dead. If she's dead where does that leave me? We were the same! She wasn't supposed to die.

Electra flashed in her mind--Short, five foot if Amelia was guessing right, and a head full of curly brown hair that was matched by dark brown eyes. She had pale skin and had been almost shy if not for her big mouth. Electra had worn that damn light-up dress to her interview. Her brother, the one with the weirdo name, had been there. He was cute.

Amelia was feeling and regretting and a million things popped inside all at once. Electra, running off. Dashing into the woods. Electra, with her fading smile. If Amelia has went with her, if Electra had...a million and one ifs but none that would ever work.

There only was one world and no one could change it. Once something happened it happened. It wasn't a game, it wasn't something that could be started over. Not a book or a deck of cards. No, life was tangible but not moldable--it was death and Amelia knew that. So why did it hurt?

No, Amelia couldn't think about it. Too much time was wasted in the little details and Amelia had far worse things to bother about than the death of a girl she hardly knew. I am death, she thought, I'm stronger and better than she was...I have to be. I have to be. With that as her driving force, she stood and began to move. The lights ended and Amelia stretched, feeling her scabs stretch as well--this time not breaking open again, thankfully. Pain radiated from her core but it was a pain she liked. Enough to make her want to get out of the Games and back home, to her soft bed and to a drink of water and an aspirin. To people who adored her.

"I'm hungry."

A simple statement that led to her walking through the woods again, leaving her safe hideout in search of that pond she'd seen earlier in the day. Or was it yesterday? Time was blending together, day kissing night until the two fell fast asleep in a warm, yet deadly cold, embrace.

The pond wasn't too far off, only a mere seventeen hundred feet. It didn't look bad from afar, but she spat in it just in case. The spit didn't melt and nothing seemed too acidic, so she leaned down, crouching on her knees and sniffing the water. It wasn't sweet, wasn't sour. Just water. Plain. Her reflection was in it but Amelia didn't bother to stare for once. Instead, she dove headfirst and screamed. As the bubbles flew past her she stopped and lifted her head out, watching as droplets fell down her nose one by one. A few landed on her lips and she sucked them until the water was swiveling around in her mouth. It was then that she really leaned down and took a drink, loving the way it tasted.

Everything was vivid. Not in a drug type of way, not in a dream type of way, and not in any sort of unusual way. It was realistic. Amelia liked realistic.

"Who's left? Danelieux, from One. Me. Corradhin, Amani, and Neri. That Reed kid, too, if he hasn't died yet," she said. Her mind felt fuzzy at those details. "Are we really the last ones left? Reed's from Seven, Neri from Six, I guess they stepped it up this year to make it to the big times. Amani and Corradhin are both from Four, aren't they? My partner...Venenius is dead now. Just me."

Names are weird. Again, Amelia stood and began to walk. Her body was tired and complained every second of the way, but with so few competitors left...she had to get a move on. If I'm lucky they'll all just kill themselves and get it over with. The original group she was in was barely hanging on--not that she'd cared for them too much anyways. Danelieux was hot, she could give him that, but he was candid and hummed far too much for her liking. Corradhin she'd been hoping to see more of--God, if I'd just gotten a taste--but he was off limits. Amani could have been her friend, had the two been a little more alike. But she'd liked Corradhin, that was insanely obvious. The two were enough to deal with for the one day she had been with them.

Still, they had been better than nothing. "Maybe I'll find them again," she mused aloud, "maybe I'll be the one to kill them. One fell swoop, before it gets too light outside."

There wasn't much she could do besides walk until the sun came back up and it began to grow painfully hot again. It rested mainly on the East side, letting her know it was hardly nine or ten o'clock. She paused for a second against a tree, loving the way the rough bark felt against her back and playing with the leaves on the vines that grew plentifully around it. The arena is holding itself back, she figured. Keeping it from actually hurting me. It was restrained ever so carefully, letting her know that whoever made it wasn't playing around. They crafted things down to the smallest of details. In other words, absolute perfection that almost was a rival to herself.

A wind picked up throughout the world and she breathed in deeply, smelling the dirt and the blood and the wild mixture of flowers that lined the trees and bushes surrounding her on every side. It seemed like everything was safe.

Crack.

One small, poised noise. Amelia's head jerked around and she felt herself stiffen up at the sight. There, just through the trees a little to her left, was the intimidatingly large figure of a woman fit to kill.

Rigid. That one word could describe the tributes' every being. Oh fucking hell, is that...Amelia knew that tribute--it was that chick from Eleven that no one saw die. She was just found dead, torn apart by some mutt. An uneventful death for a girl who held enough terror in her being to win the entire Games. As the dying sun glinted off her brown skin and hair, Amelia could almost find her beautiful in a rough, evil way. Her dark eyes were basically black in the shadows that stretched outward from the harsh lines of her face.

Meticulous. During the Games she had paid attention to everything. Amelia had watched as she watched the other tributes, as she stood by warily as they approached, as she didn't miss a single detail.

Scary. That was another way to describe her. Ebony Holbrook had died--Amelia had seen the body. The tribute standing there cocked her head to the side. She was contemplative and barely holding herself back, ready to attack, ready to kill. Not a fast death, no, otherwise she would have already attacked. That tribute--that creature--was out for horror. It wanted to put on a show and was willing to let Amelia run so that way it could hunt her down and give her a slow, torturous death.

Abditive. Despite all the time Amelia spent pretending to be an idiot, she did know quite a few things. That adjective described Ebony perfectly--having the ability to hide or restrain itself. Ebony had hidden in the bushes until just the right moment and Amelia knew the girl was barely restrained.

One movement.

One movement from Ebony and Amelia would run, and the same vice-versa. Abditive. Yes, that's the word. Abditive.

"Fight me already," Amelia said. Seconds trickled down as Ebony slowly cocked her head to the side. Shifting, Amelia tried to stay focused, to keep herself able to run at a moments notice, but that moment grew longer and longer the more she waited. "Fight me!" For some reason Ebony wasn't listening to her. She wasn't doing what was asked. She was disobeying. Amelia had enough of people not paying attention to her. Without waiting, Amelia took a step forward and that was all it took for the tribute to roll back her shoulders and charge.

Oh shit.

Much as she'd like to stay and fight, Amelia knew not to play games. Ebony was a competitor, a dead one at that, and she was downright creepy. She ran fast and Amelia only got fifteen feet before being tackled to the ground with all the weight of a one hundred fifty something girl. Air escaped her lungs as she gasped, feeling her side heat up as it hit the ground far too hard. Stars danced in the sky again before they were kicked away by Ebony's fist connecting with Amelia's jaw. It let out a snap as her fingers dug into the ground and Amelia forced her legs to wrap around the girl's middle and squeeze hard before flipping her over. There, Amelia gained advantage and she headbutted the girl and rammed her fists into Ebony's middle. Bones snapped, but whether it was her hand or Ebony's rips she couldn't tell. Pain radiated off her in waves, forcing her to make every move count.

"Give up," Amelia grunted, "I'm going to kill you."

"No."

Ebony freed a hand from under her and went straight for Amelia's side, pushing past her pretty shirt and scooping away at the scab. Screaming, Amelia grabbed her arm with both hands yet was unable to pull her out. It wiggled around inside of her muscle like a termite invading soft wood. The nails scratched with all the sharpness of dull, jagged blades trying to skin an animal. Dark skin was soon coated with blood as she continued to dig deep into the wound, sending lightning and fire racing down Amelia's mind and body. "Stop!" she screamed, her voice growing hoarse, "stop!"

With a plop, Ebony pulled her hand out and shoved it into her mouth, careful not to let it drop onto her cheek. She licked each finger clean, tongue dancing over the skin to greedily lick up every bit of blood. Amelia slid off her and onto the dirt, hardly able to breathe as she tried her hardest to stop the bloodflow. Too much. There was too much blood. It overwhelmed her and the red began to cloud into her vision. Her jaw throbbed but it was nothing compared to the hole inside of her that wouldn't quit. I'd rather have Mother Nature's bleeding hole than this shit.

A sickening chuckle left Ebony's lips as she removed her hand and pulled out a long, bloody strand of hair. It dropped down onto the ground, bright against the dark green leaves. "I'm sorry," she said. Her voice was dark and almost robotic, "did I hurt you?"

Amelia's teeth chattered and she shook her head just barely. Everything trembled as she managed to pull herself back into a standing position, looking down at Ebony's grinning figure. "Y-you didn't hurt me," she whispered. A quiver was inside of her voice, the pain just barely restrained. "I-I'm going to kill you."

At that Ebony let out a full laugh that bounced off the canopy of trees. A great pod of birds arose and flew off at the noise. Her eyes narrowed and became entirely black as she began to stand, her body creaking as each limb found a stronghold and reached for the heavens. That grin was fading away into a challenging stare, hard and unnameable. "Run," she said. Amelia didn't need to be told twice.

She ran.

Time again froze but Amelia didn't--she kept going, kept running, doing her best to keep Ebony at bay. Pain ached up her leg in long bursts of hot fire that extended into her still wounded side. The blood still poured down but she had to keep going. Ebony would only let her get away for so long before coming back to torture her until the end finally came. Every so often she'd stop to lean against a tree before running again, keeping her feet busy and her mind in a constant state of shock.

Beeping distracted her and Amelia stumbled when she reached a small, metallic ball that sat down on the ground. Quickly she grabbed it and continued to run, tossing the top off and pulling out a ball of rope before dropping the rest. Fucking hell! Yes! Hell yes!

There was no real time to celebrate, but with the pain growing Amelia still managed a small grin. Her lips parted right after as the pain escalated and she bit down on the rope, barely keeping the pain from escaping her throat and filling the air with it's loudness.

Teeth gripping down hard on the length of rope, Amelia knew she had to come up with a plan. Something, anything, to get away. No mutt ever created lasted that long, and that was what Ebony was...right? A mutt? I have to beat her. She'll trip, she'll--If I can get ahead of her I'll tie the rope into a trap, luring her into it.

The only problem was the first part.

Thud thud, thud, thud thud. Heart beating fast, she stopped, spit out the rope, and tied off a piece to one tree and then, bypassing the next, ties the other end around the base of another. Then she jumped up and ran in place, waiting on Ebony. It was close to the ground.

Abditive Ebony is gonna see that, Amelia thought. What if I distract her? She has to look at my face and only my face. It hit her almost as hard as the wound. "I'll talk to her," she whispered aloud. "Ebony! Come and get me, Ebony!"

With each word Amelia walked backwards, keeping her eyes on where Ebony would soon come into view. Moments passed in the dull silence that was only accompanied by her ferocious heart beating. Thuds connected with thuds as she tightly grasped her side to reduce the blood flow. It had gone down to a trickle but she knew that until it could be tied up and treated there was no hope.

Ebony came just as planned.

"Look," Amelia said, her voice radiating amusement, "you get to die twice."

Ebony smirked and tilted her head back. "So will you." She ran forward at that and for the first time in ages Amelia did something right.She tripped. The ground shook with the impact and Ebony let out a dissatisfied roar as she let go of all restraints. No more abditiveness.

Dried blood stained Ebony's hand as she used it to grab Amelia's leg, slamming her down. Grunting, Amelia grabbed a rock and bashed it down on Ebony's arm, only to receive a swift kick to the ribs. Die! Bone against bone, skin on skin, they fought, losing all control. Ebony once again reached in her hand and the tears fell almost as badly as the noise that left her mouth. The animalistic pain, the grey shouts, the hatred that filled the artificial world was more than anything Amelia had ever done before. Die, you bitch! As Ebony searched for organs she reached out and took ahold of the rope, pulling it from both trees with ease before wrapping it around Ebony's neck.

Both shouted and squirmed. No! Fucking hell! Die, die, die! The world grew darker as a cloud passed overhead, leaving the two to struggle in near darkness. Amelia couldn't hear, she couldn't hardly move, the only thing she had strength left to do was hold on tighter to the rope.Thudthudthud...thud thud...thudthudthudthudthud...thud...thud.

Silence.

Everything went limp.

Black, darkness. Amelia's vision faded.

Thud.

The barest movement. A cry of pain.

Thud thud.

Pain shooting as the hand fell limp, exiting the now fist sized hole. Another cry. Darkness again, in spots that coated the world. Blood gushed out. Who...has this much blood? She'd lost too much--everything was mixing together and had a reddish tint to it. Everything was giddy.

Ebony lay motionless. There was nothing left. No more spark, no more fake-life, nothing left of the genetically made tribute crafted to hunt and murder all in her path. Just a shell.

I killed her.

Amelia hadn't seen the life leave her eyes. She hadn't seen Ebony die. But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she lived. I'm still alive.

Panting, she pushed off the dead weight and breathed. The blood soaked the ground and her once beautiful shift was ruined. It would do no good to rip apart to create a bandage...but Ebony's white tee would work perfectly.

A laugh bubbled from her lips. Amelia pulled off Ebony's shirt without a care in the world. "I guess you're not the only one who can strip dead tributes of their clothes," she told Ebony. The dead girl bothered not with responding.

Grimacing, Amelia tied up her side and took off the ruined shirt. Fingers fumbling, it took several tries for the knot to hold. Silly Ebony, didn't you know? The pain was almost becoming her friend. It left her weak but it wrapped around her like a blanket, warm against the prickly world of chills. I'm death, so I can never die.

~~

DISTRICT 4 FEMALE- AMANI ALURAI

Blue. Electric. Beautiful. Bright.

They said you were gone.

Grey. Stormy. Beautiful. Bold.

I saw you die.

She took one step forward and I took one step back. She stopped, quirking an eyebrow in a question mark, asking me a silent message. Why are you afraid? Her eyes burned, drilled a hole deep into my soul, struck my heartstrings like a harp that only played the tunes of agony. I wanted to answer, say that I loved her and there was nothing more I wanted than to be engulfed in her arms. Yet my tongue wouldn't move, my voice wouldn't work, and I could only stare at her beautiful electric eyes. Perhaps it was the memory of the dream I had only hours before that held me back. Or perhaps it was the fact that somewhere in the depths of my mind I knew this wasn't real, that it was another one of the gamemaker's traps.

Anastasia.

But these were the Games.

I heard you scream.

Rationale had no power here.

I saw you bleed.

Madness and lunacy reigned supreme.

I watched as the life faded from your eyes.

Blue. Electric. Beautiful. Bright.

Anastasia stepped forward, a smile on her face. Her footsteps were light, soft, gentle - almost like an angel that had been sent to watch over me from above. Maybe she was an angel. Maybe she was coming to finally take me home. Heat burned at the back of my eyes and my vision blurred as Anastasia stopped before my trembling figure, a soft smile tugging at her peach-pink lips, her eyes warm and compassionate. Her cheeks no longer held the eerie paleness of death, instead they were rosy and tinted with pink, making her appear more beautiful than I'd ever known.

"Oh Amani," she whispered, her voice carried away by the wind. One tender hand caressed my cheek, her thumb wiping away a stray tear that escaped from my eyes. "You're my sister, my only sister, and I'll love you forever. Come here," she opened her arms wide and I didn't need to think twice. Burying my head in her shoulders, I gripped the rough material of her shirt and cried, letting my hands roam her neck, her shoulders, her face. Just to make sure if I wasn't hallucinating once more. When my sister's figure didn't dissipate into thin air on my touch, I let out an inhumane wail and clutched her closer to me, barely hearing her soft murmurs or soothing words. She was real, she was here, and she was with me.

Then, out of nowhere, the fire came. In that moment of bliss and euphoria I didn't see, didn't think, didn't hear. The fire, the flames, they erupted in my abdomen like firecrackers going off in my stomach all at once, sending jolts of agony rippling through my body. Agony that sent me stumbling away from Ana and forced me onto my knees. Pain that put me face down in the dirt to moan as crimson liquid flowed out of my side like a meandering stream. A metallic taste overwhelmed my throat, a liquid warm and runny that dribbled down my chin. Blood.

Anastasia leaned down until we were eye to eye once more. Her eyes were no longer bright, or warm, or kind and compassionate. They were just darker now, electric irises rimmed with navy, and narrowed into tiny slits. Her hand, that had been loving and affectionate only seconds ago, found its way to my throbbing wound and to the hilt of her dagger sticking out of my side. Bony fingers wrapped around the weapon's handle, before Anastasia shot me a sickening smile and began pulling, taking her time so that she could relish in my suffering. With each pull came tongues of fire coursing through my veins, with each pull came needles that sliced every nerve in my body in half. I remembered screaming, pleading at her to stop, and the sound of her high, cold laughter as the blade was finally removed from my flesh, dripping with my blood.

"I like hearing you scream," she whispered again, but this time her voice was not carried away by the wind. The wind had abandoned us, leaving the clearing we were in stony and silent. This time, her voice was sharp and grating and harsh with a menacing undertone. She got down on one knee and I whimpered, hands pressed tightly against the cut to stem the bleeding. At the sound her eyes lit up in pleasure, her lips twisting into a cruel smile.

She stabbed me again, in the very same spot.

I tried to scream, but my voice was lost and choked as more fire flared, sending sparks shooting into my line of vision along with a smoky haze. I collapsed fully onto the ground, chest heaving as more blood pooled out, dampening my clothes and dying them red. As Ana, my sister - or the Capitol's recreation of her, anyways - yanked out her dagger once more, something hard clanked against my teeth. Through my hazy, clouded mind, I spat it out, thinking it was blood - but when I did a flash of silver caught the sunlight. A light bulb went off in my brain as I recognized the object.

My token. Ana's old necklace that I had grown so used to wearing that I had forgotten it was still hanging around my neck. The engraved words of my sister's name spent another jolt of pain through my body - though from my abdomen or my heart, I did not know.

"Oh my poor, poor sister," Anastasia pouted, looming over me, oblivious to my tear-stained cheeks or the bleeding hole in my side. She twirled the dagger in her fingers, showing off her skills, before leaning in towards my shuddering body. "They say third time's the charm."

As Anastasia lifted her arm to stab me one last time, something inside me just refused to allow myself to lie on the ground and die. Something inside me added oil to the fire inside of me, added pain - but also energy. Something inside me made me launch myself upwards and allowed my bloodstained hands to knock the dagger out of Ana's hands.

She hit the ground first, with me following soon after, landing with a painful cry on her chest. However, there was no time for relief. Anastasia grabbed my arms with unnatural strength, twisting them to the sides so hard I thought I heard my bones crack. I shrieked - a horrible, screechy, animal-shriek - and in desperation slammed my forehead against hers. My ears rang with birdsong, but Ana's grip on my arms loosened enough for me to retrieve my own dagger from it's sheath. Reacting before I could think, I prepared to slam the blade of my dagger into Ana's chest only for the muttation to knock it out of my own grip, similar to what I did to her own dagger. Both weaponless, I felt my energy start to drain as Ana reared up, blue eyes blazing, as her nails dug into my face in an attempt to throw me off her body so that she could have the upper hand. She grabbed a hold of my necklace, trying to pull me off of her, only for the clasp to break and fall into the ground beside her head.

The necklace.

Reacting upon instinct, I used one arm to keep Anastasia's claw-like nails at bay and with the other scooped up the broken chain. She tried to flip me over using her knees, but I dug my feet into the dirt, straddling her, and ignoring the pinpricks of pain in my cheeks. Ana screamed in frustration, eyes wild and mad. She brought back a hand and viciously slapped me, threatening to unbalance my grip, and all at once panic set in. My whole body was on fire, and my mind was slowly slipping. Gripping the broken chain in both of my hands, I let my body fall forward onto Anastasia so that the silver chain bit against her pulsing neck. I dug my nails into the earth, refusing to let go of the broken chain, as Anastasia choked underneath my body. Her hands flew up to her neck, clawing at the chain with desperate fervor as she seemed to realize what I was doing. Her chest convulsed, shuddering, as I kept pushing the chain harder and harder against her neck, spots of blood beginning to show on her skin. Her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes, lost their anger and fury and regained a pleading, imploring look. Stop. Her eyes said, starting to take on a marmoreal appearance. Stop, please.

All the while I let my tears fall, my hands shaking and trembling like a leaf, the silence shrouding the clearing forcing me to listen to her terrible, strangling cries. "I'm sorry," a tear slipped down my cheek, splashing on her marmoreal face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry..."

She didn't answer me.

Anastasia Juerlia lay silent and still underneath me, eyes blank and open with an expression of terror etched on her face. One hand rested stiffly clutched around the chain that had caused her death - the chain of her necklace, when she was still alive. But her eyes...her eyes...

Blue. Electric. Beautiful. Bright. Those were the words I used to describe them when I first saw her peering through the tree. Now, the adjectives no longer hold true. Now, Anastasia's eyes were dull, blank, petrified, marmoreal. Marmoreal, like marble. Even in death, her two irises bore a hole into my soul, and I knew it would forever will. I knew because marble never rusted, never faded, and lasted for a thousand years. With tears streaming down my face, I rolled off of Anastasia's dead body, until I was lying by her side. Stricken with grief, I let out a choked sob and buried my face in her mass of brunette, in the crook of her neck. Cradling her head close to mine, I gently closed her blue eyes and pressed my forehead to hers, feeling as if my heart would burst at any moment. I had watched her die again.

Anastasia.

I brought my knees up to my chin, ignoring the fire in my stomach, and closed my eyes.

I heard you scream.

Breathing in the scent of her hair - the smell of frangipanis - I brought my hand up to touch her deathly cold cheeks. Just, feeling her. Remembering her.

I saw you bleed.

The blood still poured from the wound in my side, but I didn't care. It felt like I was empty inside. Empty and stony and cold like marble. Marmoreal, just like the body of my sister next to me.

I watched as the life faded from your eyes.

Blue. Electric. Beautiful. Bright.

Anastasia.

Your eyes will never shine again.

~~

DISTRICT 6 FEMALE- NERI RAVENNA

Love will get you through.

Old Neri's words from my hallucination echoed repeatedly in my head as I trekked aimlessly in the forest, body aching from lack of food and water. It had been over a day since I had something decent to drink, and for the last two hours I had been wandering around the jungle searching for a stream. I couldn't even remember when I had my last bit of food. Probably sometime with Dustin-

I stopped my thoughts there.

Inwardly conflicted over the events of the past hellish week, I let my body drop beside a moss-covered trunk of a tree and sighed, long and loud. My other counterpart in the dream had told me that I couldn't be someone I'm not - meaning new Neri - but in times like now I question whether it was better to be the stronger version of me.

As I stayed there, regaining the little strength I had left, my mind decided to bring the memory up again.

In the forest. Every detail. Dustin pleading at me for me to stay with him, to run to the Cornucopia away from the earthquake. And then how he had leaned forwards and kissed me. Kissed poor, paranoid Neri with her purple hair, and it wasn't a friendly peck, but a kiss. A kiss where Dustin turned his head over at an angle and put his mouth to mine and kissed, mouth to mouth. Then it the heat of the moment I had brought my hand up to touch his cheek, his forehead, while we were kissing.

The memory was so real that I could still feel the ground tremble beneath our feet, could remember how the wind had howled through the trees and how for the first time in a long time, my heart had lifted and I felt free. Free from the clutches of darkness and the snarls of the evil, for all the fears and loneliness and tears to be washed away by a single, passionate kiss.

Dustin.

Love will get you through.

I wanted desperately to believe those words, as they were spoken from my own lips, but as every second passed I found it harder to do so. Maybe new Neri wasn't me, the real me, but at least she didn't hurt like I was hurting now.

It was still very early, only just past true dawn, and the wind bit my exposed skin as I stood up with a groan. Who's left? I thought, trying to distract myself from what could turn into an identity crisis. Last night's anthem had bore surprising news. Three sponsored tributes had perished - Venenius, Electra and Kale. Who does that leave? Dandelion-guy, from One. Amelia from Two. I made a mental note to watch out for the redhead. She was trouble. Corradhin and Amani from Four, I better watch out for them as well. Who else? I racked my brain, trying to remember, when a pair of honey-colored eyes popped into my mind. Reed, from Seven. Is that it? Suddenly I felt cold, cold to my core as the fact sunk into me. There were only six of us left. The 102nd Hunger Games were nearing their end.

Instead of feeling relief, or excitement, or even fear of this undeniable piece of information, I only felt sadness. A type of sadness when the heart spiraled into a deep abyss. Shattering the warmth and confidence from within, quickly diminishing the feeling of newfound security - wherein fear and confusion fills in their absence.

Dustin should be here.

"Fuck." I almost jumped at the word that had subconsciously escaped my lips, surprised. It seemed so out of place in the tranquil jungle - not to mention I never recalled myself to swear. Yet...it just seemed right. I tried it again, slightly louder this time, gaining strength with each statement. "Fuck this. Fuck the President. Fuck the Capitol. Fuck the world." With every sentence rage bubbled up inside of my chest, replacing the sadness, as more and more memories of Dustin, Aperio, and Allison appeared in my head until at last I was found attack the trunk of the tree, splinters flying through the air, knuckles bleeding. "Damn it, they should still be here!"

When I stopped there was a sudden silence, not just from me but from the clicks and tweets and the sounds of the forest as well. The noise of my voice had startled everything and it was eerily quiet - the type of quiet that made the hairs on the back of my neck prick up and made my heart beat faster in my chest. Slowly, cautiously, I stood up; the silence almost deafening. I made it as far as the entrance of the cave before a rustle in the bushes caught my attention. Whirling around, I peered through the trees and my blood ran cold when my blue eyes caught sight of a dark silhouette, observing me in the trees. I debated internally whether to stay where I was or run for it - but before I could run through the entire list of pros and cons the menacing figure stepped towards through the trees, and when I saw his face my heart seemed to stop for what seemed like an eternity.

"I know you," it was a whisper, a whisper of disbelief and shock. He had messy, jet black hair and light blue eyes that seemed to drill a hole right into my soul. Built like an ox with a confident smirk etched on his face, it wasn't hard to put a finger on who the boy was. "You're from last year's games. Alexander." Vaelyn Xiavia's voice echoed in my mind - "A son of two past Victors! Can he continue the legacy?"

Damn it.

Alexander took a step forward and simultaneously; I took a step back. His light blue irises seemed to shift in the pale morning light, changing the shade from light to a dark navy blue, filled with acharné. Acharné. I remember that it was Alison who taught me that word - she had always been a bookworm, that girl. Acharné, meaning furious or desperate for a battle. That was what Alexander's eyes held - archarné. He tensed as I moved to my left, towards a path that would take me away from this clearing and into the depths of the forest.

"Stop," his voice was gravelly, deep, just as I'd seen him on television last year, but the words were flat and bland and almost robotic. Of course. Something clicked in my mind. It's another damn muttation. I had a strong urge to launch a kick at the tree again in anger and frustration. First Dustin, now this. You gamemakers have really crossed the line.

Then I froze on the spot, not because of the way Alexander eyed me like a lion eyes a deer, but because of the fact that somehow, someway, the gamemakers had resurrected Alexander Le Monte. Even if he was a muttation, there had to be a way to change him back to the way he once was. Did the Capitol have that kind of technology? If they did...

Stop this. A little voice in the back of my mind protested. Perhaps it was my conscience, or perhaps it was the other Neri I saw in my dream. You can't be serious. I know it hurts, but Dustin's dead. You can't just make another him.

I ignored her - me - whatever. A mind forming in my mind, I forced my eyes to connect with Alexander's, and pretended to take a step towards him. In reality, I pivoted around sharply on my heel and burst into a sprint up the path I had been eying before, breath coming out in ragged gasps. This overwhelming sense of desire, of want, clouded the more rational part of my mind and silenced the voice screaming in my head to stop carrying out the plan. If I was to be completely honest with myself, I knew that this was an idiotic plan. Heck, it was hardly a plan. Just a mess of jumbled thoughts mashed together like potatoes. However, the yearning in my veins pushed me onwards, forced my legs to run faster, swifter.

I could hear Alexander panting behind me, the twigs and grasses crunching underneath his feet as he caught up to me. I veered a sharp left, praying that I was going in the right direction, and hopped nimbly over a small fallen tree trunk lying in my path. Alexander did the same, I could perceive, his footsteps ringing in my mind like a bell. He was so close that I could feel his breath hot on the back of my neck, sending slivers of fear running down my spine. It took all of my concentration just to make sure to put one foot in front of the other, to prevent them from tangling together like a piece of spaghetti.

And then, the gleaming silver horn of the Cornucopia caught my sight. The Cornucopia, and also the lake in which us tributes had resurfaced in the beginning. The view of the Cornucopia made my heart thrum in my chest, but also fueled a fiery determination in my mind, my heart, my soul to find a way, any way, to bring Dustin back.

Pushing myself harder, my breath coming out in ragged gasps, I plowed into the chilly water without any hesitation, nearly falling over for the cold was so sudden. I hardly had a chance to recover when Alexander slammed into my back, making me collapse under the water, all the wind knocked out of me.

Water, icy cold, flowed into my mouth, my nose, my eyes - blinding and choking me. Panic flared, but before I could move Alexander had a firm, iron grip on my tangled violet hair and was forcing my head under the water, grinding my face upon the rocks. On instinct, I lashed out with my legs at Alexander, successfully landing a blow to his shins, and in a flash the both of us were thrashing in the water, clawing at each other like a pair of wild cats. I burst up, gulping in air, and with adrenaline pumping in my veins I shakily got to my feet and grabbed ahold of Alexander's damp, streaming black hair. With an animalistic cry, I slammed his head with all the strength I could muster underneath the waves and onto the jagged rocks and shells laying at the shallow part of the lake. A few bubbles could be seen as I continued pulling him up, then slamming him down, never resting regardless of the burning sensation in my arms. This time, it was my eyes that were filled with acharné, filled with lust for blood and death and radiating darkness.

"Tell me!" I howled as the crystal clear water was tinted by a haze of red. "Tell me! Tell me how they brought you back!"

The memory.

Dustin.

Screaming and howling and crying I thrust Alexander's head underneath the water for one last time, a stray hand groping around under the water before my fingers wrapped around a firm rock. Grabbing the rock, I proceeded to bash the mutt of Alexander Le Monte, ignoring the blood washing over my hands and the dead weight of his body in my hands. "Tell me!" I continued on screaming at his corpse, his bloody corpse, refusing to stop as my entire body jerked and shuddered like a marionette being operated by a madman. "How can I bring back Dustin?!"

There was nothing. No answer from what used to be the handsome, angular face of Alexander - now nothing but a bloody pulp in the water. The rock fell from my hands, landing with a light splash in the lake as the birds once more began to sing and the wind continued whispering through the trees. How can birds be singing? It all seemed to be so out of place, out of time. Maybe this was nothing but a horrible nightmare and when I awake Dustin will be by my side again, and I would be back in District Six with Allison.

I almost laughed at my dreams.

Dustin was gone, gone forever, and nothing could bring him back.