They were all staring at me.

 It was my first day back at training, and no doubt, my team had heard about my breakdown. They were all solemn faced, staring at me and waiting for me to say or do something. I shifted on my feet, turning my eyes to the floor.

 “I’ve let you down these past few weeks. I’ve allowed my emotions to get to me too much,” I told them “Zach’s passing has affected us all, but I should have been the one strong enough to pull us together. We’re a team. A family. And I’m sorry I let you down. But we need to pull back together now. We have to make sure Zach’s death wasn’t in vain. We can defeat the Capitol if we work hard enough.”

 A few members of the group nod half-heartedly. It was then that I realised that they’d lost something vital to the dynamics of our group.

 Hope. Hope kept them going. So did Zach. When he started in my group, he was cowardly, small, mean. But he changed into someone that everyone trusted. Admired, loved. With him gone, everyone else was falling. I was never the leader of them.

 He was.

 I remember now how he used to help the others in training. When we did cross-country running, he’d fall back to wait for the slowest of the group. One time, I went down to the gym to train alone and found that he was practising with one of the younger boys, letting him beat him up for the sake of learning to fight. He was a good kid, really. And I missed him terribly.

 I cleared my throat again “We won’t be having a training session today, as such. Today is about training your heart. Training yourself to accept and deal with pain. Something I have a lot of experience with lately. Follow me.”

 The boys all trudged after me reluctantly, and we began to scale the steps. Ronan fell in step with me, his eyes concerned.

 “Are you sure you’re up for being here?”

 “I don’t want to be anywhere else. This is where I’m most at home now,” I told him. And it was true. With my family, things had changed. Finch was avoiding me more than ever to keep me safe, and my parents looked at me pityingly, like I was fragile. Which I was, but it wasn’t a fact I needed to be reminded of.

 We reached the very top level of District 13 and emerged outside. It was a still day; there were few clouds in the sky, and no wind whistled through the trees. I stopped, leaning over to Ronan.

 “Pick a tree. A nice one,” I said.

 Ronan looked confused, but didn’t question me. As we continued walking through the trees, he pointed one out. A tall oak with an abundance of leaves weighing down its branches. I nodded and removed the chisel from my pocket. As the whole team gathered around, I began to chip away at the bark. I worked as quickly as I could, but I didn’t want to ruin the work I was doing. The boys behind me began to chatter, but I just kept going. It took a while, but when I finished, I felt satisfied. And I felt some of the pain inside me dull to a less ruthless ache. It was almost welcome; a reminder of everything I’d lost, but not a stab to the heart. More a reminder that I could still feel, even if it wasn’t anything good. A reminder I was still alive.

 When I stepped away from the tree, everyone crowded around to look what I’d created. The words chiselled in the tree were etched in my heart too; For Zach, in loving memory.

 “Zach loved the outdoors,” I said “He loved the smell of rain and mud sloshing under his boots. He liked breathing clean air; he said it made him feel alive. And so I dedicate this tree to him. And whenever any of you miss him, you can come here to be with him again. Because our spirits are strongest where we most belong. Let us not forget this brave man, who gave his life for us, for our cause. Let us remember him how he would want to be remembered; in peace, amongst nature.”

 “Amen to that,” Alexius said. A chorus of amens followed. I dug in my pocket and brought out some scraps of paper and pencils and handed them out to my team. It had been my mother’s idea; a way to gain closure. She told me that when she was in the Hunger Games, she wrote letters and poems to the people she loved. I never had a way with words, but I thought I might as well write something. And I wanted my team to as well. I told them what to do, and said that once they were done, they were dismissed. They all settled alone to write their notes and I read over the piece I’d already prepared, before delicately poking a branch through the top of the page. I kept reading over it, long after the final person had written their note and silently drifted away from the tree, heads bowed in respect. I can remember every word.

 Dearest Zach,

 You were taken from us too early, as many people in my life have been. I think it’s a family curse. My mother lost her mother, her father, Logan, Kai, Clementia, Pandora, Arrian, Eleanor. Elliott too. I don’t know if we’ll ever see him again. And in some ways, that’s even more painful. Knowing he’s probably out there somewhere and he can’t be with us. And Finch too. So close, but untouchable. But you. You’re somewhere better now. Where you’ve gone, I think maybe skies aren’t so grey. I think maybe there’s no war, only amity. And for that, you are lucky, and I should be happy for you. I’m trying my best.

 Look after yourself, and find your peace. Lay down your weapons. Let death be your ceasefire. You’ve done your duty, and you should be proud.

 Karissa.

 Night fell. I let myself slump with my back against the tree. The day had worn me down. I hadn’t done so much in days, weeks, maybe. Grief is exhausting. But I felt good in the knowledge that I’d taken a step forwards. And I repeated to myself the mantra that my mother taught me.

 Death, Grief, Distress. Survival, Improvement, Success.

 I stayed there for a long time, listening to the rustle of leaves in the trees, and watching the stars and clouds beginning to drift over District 13. I wanted to stay all night, but I knew my family would be worried for me. I stood to leave, brushing dirt from my pants.

 And then I heard it.

 My ears pricked up. I could hear footsteps, crunching through the dry leaves on the ground. They were close. I turned around to face the tree, wondering if someone had returned to pay their respects.

 Then I heard a ripping noise behind me.

 I whipped around and gasped.

 “What a touching letter,” Elliott said. My letter was in tatters in his hand. I couldn’t breathe as his glowing green eyes met mine. Slowly, his lips twisted into a terrifying smile.

 “Hey, Karissa. Did you miss me?”

 “What the hell are you doing here?” I growled. My hands were settled on the knife on my belt. He laughed.

 “This is no way to welcome me home,” he said. He crumpled my letter and tossed it to the ground before walking towards me “It’s funny. Because your letter said your distance from me was…painful. And yet, now I’m here…”

 “I don’t trust you.”

 “Of course you don’t,” Elliott said, his face close to mine. I found myself backed against the tree “You never did. I know that now.”

 “Then what do you want with me? Why are you digging up the past by coming back?”

 Elliott smiled “I’m here to see someone. I have a job to do.”

 I felt a shiver creep down my back. Elliott grabbed my arms suddenly and pinned them against the tree.

 “I can’t have you pulling a knife on me,” he said “Karissa, you don’t understand why I’m here.”

 “Then tell me,” I hissed.

 Elliott smiled “I decided some time ago that my life was worth nothing. So I was going to the Capitol to find a way to die. I wanted to die some way special. Some way that could only be found there. And you know, the Capitol people are just killing themselves slowly. Drugs and food and alcohol; they’re bodies are in as much disrepair as a poor District 12 citizen. And I decided it would be a good way to die. So I went to parties. I did drugs, drank alcohol, kissed girls…and boys.” Elliott gave me a sly smile and I almost smiled back “But after a while, it wasn’t enough. And I remembered why I hate the Capitol. I was at a party and everyone was laughing about the Hunger Games…about all those people that died. And I knew how I wanted to die. I wanted to kill President Snow. I knew I’d end up dead myself if I succeeded. But that’s not what happened.”

 “President Snow saw promise in me. He said I was strong. A warrior. And I didn’t want to take compliments from him, but he showed me another way to die. I was caught on my mission to kill him, so he offered me a deal. He said he’d let me go. If I came back here…and killed President Coin.”

 Only then did I attempt to struggle against him “No. No, I won’t let you commit suicide like that. Even if you did manage it, you’d be executed.”

 “Didn’t you hear me, Rissa? I want to die.”

 “You can’t. Not you too-”

 Elliott slapped my face hard “This is my life. Don’t you dare tell me how I should use it.”

 Elliott slapping me gave me an opening.  I pulled away from him, and shoved him to the ground. We grappled, teeth gritted, until he managed to pin me down with his knees. He grinned maliciously, wiping sweat from his forehead.

 “You’re not going to stop me,” he said, grabbing my knife from my belt. Then he plunged it into my leg. I howled, watching blood droplets fly as he wrenched it out of my leg again and ran off towards District 13.

A.N: Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since I updated. I'm super busy all the time, but I will try and update whenever I can! Battleborn is nearly finished, probably another seven or so chapters, so stay tuned for the end of the Silence series! Let me know what you think in the comments, and maybe how you'd like Raven and Karissa's story to end? I already have it planned, but I'm interested to know what things you'd like tying up  :)