Cleo Jackson
Age: 24

Cleo now keeps a weapon of some sorts (preferably a sword or other long blade) on her at all times.  The only time she doesn't keep one on her person is during the night, while she sleeps. A sharpened sword lies under her bed for emergencies.  

She's always ready, and it's pretty hard to take her by surprise.  I would suggest not trying to surprise her.  Like, at all.  You don't wish to get hurt.  She wouldn't hesitate to whip out her sword.  She wouldn't necessarily use it, but I would still say not to even try.  You never know.

Now, as you can probably tell, she's not the same, sweet, innocent girl she was when she entered the bunker.  She may still be warm and happy, but there's an air of coldness to her, and recklessness was hidden behind her eyes of ice.  The chilly breeze on a summer's day, perhaps? While she is still social, she often doesn't find many people to talk to.  Even though she tries to.

She watches the Gladiator fights intently, not wanting to miss a beat.  Her eyes are generally wide, and clearly interested.  She didn't necessarily enjoy watching the bloodshed.  She just enjoyed watching the tactics, and the rush of anticipation as they fight.  Some others would find her interest in them horrible, and consider that scary, but she doesn't care.  Unless those comments involved their Jusleada.  Then she took notice.  You did not want to catch her attention like that though.

Here's another tip: don't get her mad.  She will defend those she trusts, and those she is loyal to, until she dies.  She will fight fiercely, and would even kill.  And she can yank out her sword with lightening speed.  She won't however, do any of this if she knows she's weaker than the opponent.  She's not stupid.  Reckless, maybe.  Stupid, no.  If she takes out her sword, put yours down. She trusts she will win the fight.

Cleo still sketches, but not nearly as often.  Even though she's gotten really good at it.  She just doesn't find much time anymore.  Between training, watching the Gladiator fights, and just plain chatting, she doesn't have much time.  She has found the time to write one entry, however.  And this one, was the first one in years, and it, was a reflection. 

"What have I become?  I hardly remember the girl who entered the bunker nearly six years ago.  She was sweet, friendly, innocent... and the exact opposite of the Cleo I am now.  What happened to me?

I know what I am.  And even if I hate to admit it, I do know what I've allowed myself to become.  The one thing I swore I wouldn't.  The one thing everyone else was.  A monster.  The others never called it that.  They called themselves soldiers, fighters or warriors.  But that's not how I viewed them.  To me, they had always been monsters.  That didn't mean I hadn't befriended any of them.  It just meant I found most of them horrible.  And now...

And now I'm one of them.  Oh god... if Lexi and Gage could see me now... They'd be so disappointed in what I've become.  Or would they?  Would Lexi be proud of the warrior I am, or would she be shaking her head in disgust? Would they even recognize me?  Probably not.  Why did I stop writing about them?

I've let myself become a monster... why am I doing this to myself?  But it's too late t. c..n.e .h.t ..."

The letters had become blotched out by the hot tears that had fallen.  It was the first time she had allowed herself to feel pain, or guilt, in years.  What it had meant to say was "But it's too late to change that now..."  She wished it wasn't but, as she'd said, she isn't stupid

She had written in the dead of night, when she wouldn't wake anyone, and she hadn't been able to sleep.  So for the first time in forever, she took out her journal, grabbed her pen, and just wrote.  Everything she had been dying to say, but hadn't been able to.  Everything that was screaming to be let out.  She had cried while writing, because she had opened a gate that had rusted shut.  All her pain and sadness had lain on the other side of the gate.  She had opened a gate that she couldn't figure out how to lock again.  And it hurt.

She seemed off for the next few days, but eventually she re-locked it.  And it's been closed since then.  Slowly rusting shut.  Slowly forming into a room with no way in, and no way out. 

The ashes of the old Cleo lay there.  And just like a phoenix, she had risen.  What had rose from those ashes was a warrior.  One that wasn't afraid to kill.  One to be afraid of.  One that the old Cleo would have feared. One that no longer cared.

A/N

So that was the last chapter!!  I edited the last chapters, so you may want to re-check them!