Janel POV

She's dead. She's dead. She's dead, useless moron. It keeps repeating over and over in my head, making something dark, something terrible, something painful brew in the pit of my stomach.

Cassidy's dead. 

I know it isn't my fault, but the illness that she had contracted, but she's dead and I should go to see her just one last time, but it's my wedding day.

Wait. The wedding.

The thought of it sends my heart pounding at the speed of light. I'm going to run away today, with Wesley's money. Is it right?

Honestly, when I stare at myself in the mirror, I don't think I can recognize myself. I've changed so much since yesterday, I realise. 

Everyday when we wake up, we lose part of ourselves and we develop a new, a foreign part of us we never knew existed. People call it change, call it evolution. I find it scary, actually. Soon I'm going to lose myself. Soon I'm going to turn into a stranger. Soon I may even become like Wesley.

Wesley 2.0! Okay, that's childish.

I should go visit Calum and make sure he's alright, but the fact is that we're no longer friends—to him, anyway.

I miss him, to be completely honest.

But it doesn't matter anymore. From today onwards, I'm starting a new chapter of my life, I'm going to run away to a place where no one knows me, where I can finally reveal the truth behind my parents' death, where I can start afresh.

Then there's that boy, Kay.

I don't know what to think about him. He doesn't seem threatening, but I shouldn't leave him near Calum. He doesn't seem like the type who knows how to stand up for himself either, so I shouldn't leave him in Bloodshed. Maybe I should keep him by Larry or ask him to leave.

But I understand him, because he needs the money. I've been in that position more than once, and I feel for him. I really do. I should leave him all alone, and teach him how to adapt to life, teach him that it's impossible to live if you don't get pushed down, if you don't get hurt. 

"Janel?" Some other fighter from Blooshed opens the door, and I stand up slowly, my simple white dress pooling on the floor around my feet. 

I decided to just get a simple one even though Wesley offered to buy me more than twenty complex gowns to change into during different segments of the wedding.

Just one look at those dresses makes me want to puke, partially because I feel bad for wasting his money, even though I'm about to just take it all away, and partially because they look terrible.

His money, though, is literally abundant.

The current one I have has long lace sleeves and the skirt is detachable—leaving me in a jumpsuit-like outfit. It'll come in handy when I run. I chose to wear sneakers under my dress, despite the fact that my wedding stylist and I had discussed a range of heel heights before. My shoes are white ones so that it's not that obvious.

There are pins pulling back my hair, and it hurts, though not as bad as the wounds I got yesterday. It's up in a half-up half-down style, which has complicated braids weaved into my hair. I don't know how I'm going to get rid of this without help, but then again maybe it can just be something I can use to remember today, the day that I decided to take a brave step and change my life.

"The wedding is starting soon," the girl continues and she beams in excitement. "I can't wait!" She claps her hands together, before adding, "and by the way, you look amazing."

"Thank you," I bow my head slightly and she leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

I sit down again, slowly and carefully. I don't want to rip up the dress. I'm glad I don't have any flashy jewellery or headpieces that is going to draw attention to me. Even if they did give me any, I'd probably just give it back. Reason being, simplicity is another kind of beauty.

Staring at the bouquet of baby breath and yellow flowers of varied sizes which name I don't know, my heart starts to pound.

I'm getting married.

I shut my eyes, trying to absorb this piece of information again. I'd always imagined my marriage to be a small ceremony with all the people I loved attending. 

I didn't expect it to be without Calum and Cassidy. Her name sends shocks of pain running through my chest. I miss that little munchkin. She used to be the only person I'd look forward to spending time with. 

I didn't expect it to be without my parents. But I'm going to find out why on earth they died. I'm going to bring the truth to light.

My eyes flicker over to the teddy bear. I got it when I was eleven, just before my parents left for my relatives' house.

Cuddles' brown eyes stare into mine and for a second I'm transported back to the past. 

The innocent girl who understood she was poor and wouldn't get rich gifts. The way her heart broke when she was pushed down by her schoolmates. The way sunshine filtered in from the windows as her mother cooked stew in their household's only AutoCook pot, property of Defence no less. 

The way how she always caught her mother sobbing over her mattress and how her father was always comforting her, and telling her it was alright. That girl didn't know what they were talking about. She was always kept out of the loop

That girl.

I blink and the past is gone, replaced with the cold reality of now.

"Janel," the door opens once again and I start, startled, shooting to my feet. The girl from just now sends a smile my way, wringing her hands together. 

Thankfully, she looks much nicer than I do, and I send a compliment, which I hope doesn't sound too awkward, her way. Upon hearing my words, the girl beams like a child on Christmas Day and blushes. 

"Let's go," she gestures for me to leave, "they're waiting."

Butterflies suddenly spring to life in my stomach and a lump forms in my throat as I slowly get to my feet, my world moving in slow motion, in flashes of black-and-white.

Again, a scene of my past flickers back into my head.

"Janel?" My mother pushes the door open, and I slowly stand up from my hiding place behind the staircase, where a gun is hidden. 

It's awfully dangerous now, and people like us have to be on guard. You never know what may happen. Some guy from the richer part of town might just burst in and hurt us. 

I run towards her without hesitation and hug her tightly.

Today wasn't a great day at all. A turbulent one, in fact. 

My friends—classmates, actually—had brought this ancient version of a SnapCam, not that I'd used one before. They called it a Polaroid camera. 

To my surprise, the Polaroid camera worked pretty well, but like other days, when I tried to touch it, it was taken away from me roughly. 

What ever happened to equal treatment? It says even in the pledge 'For peace and equality shall 

 strive to achieve.'

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Mom bent down and looked me in the eye.

I shook my head just as the door creaked open. My mother pulled us quickly behind the staircase, motioning for me to keep silent. I quickly obeyed, my heart drumming so loudly in my ears that my hands shook.

"Sharon?" Someone's voice reverberated off the walls and into my ears; and I shivered. I'd never hated my mother's name that much before.

"Sharon, are you at home?" The man called, clearly drunk. Was that my father?

It couldn't be.

"Sharon!" The person was clearly upset now. "Get your sh***y a** here now!"

My mother took a deep breath, steadying herself before bending over and pressing a kiss to my head and reminding me to stay here and not move or make a sound. "It'll be alright, it'll, I promise," she whispers.

I complied immediately, my mind having been shut down from hearing such terrible, cruel words. Shaking, I sunk to the ground and crossed my fingers that no one would find me. Focusing on the almost non-existent ray of sunlight that filtered in through the tiny kitchen window, I took in deep breaths to calm myself.

Hope is such a fragile thing, I realise. 

Screams start from behind me, and I quickly unlock the little wooden drawer that holds the gun. My clammy fingers make it hard to turn the lock, but in the end, when the numbers 424 stare back at me, I let out a breath of relief and swing the door open, grabbing hold of the deadly machine before closing the door and securing it shut.

The gun.

The gun feels heavy in my palm; I've not really used it before, and my family likes to refer to it as The Last Resort.

Getting back to my seating position, I place the gun near me as the screams fade. Reachable, but not too close—Mom said poison was a good analogy for the gun. Sometimes when you're on the brink of falling into a endless abyss, poison can help you hit bedrock. Of course, in a terrible way, which is why you have to keep it far, far away from you, unless you really can't take it anymore.

After what seems like forever, the door opens and closes, and Mom appears a moment later, her hair ruffled her eyes bloodshot, and upon spotting The Last Resort in my hand, wraps me in a big hug. 

It was later when I found out she was being raped, but I was too young and I couldn't do anything. No one bothered about the underdogs.

Holding my breath as I walk out of the room, I almost trip over my feet in nervousness, but the girl holds my arm firmly. Leading me to a giant oak door that leads to the fighting ring, where I'll be married, I close my eyes for a little while.

I'm sorry, Mom and Dad, that I made this choice. I'll find out who killed you, and I'll make sure they pay.

I'm sorry, Calum, for hurting you even though I'm supposed to be your best friend. After everything, I promise I'll explain. 

I'm sorry, Cassidy.

I'm sorry that I've done so much wrong but you still love me and I'm sorry that I am such a messed up person. I'm sorry that no matter what I do, you'll still forgive me. I don't deserve it.

Someday, Cassidy, someday when I don't have to stay silent and hurt, I'll tell the world about you. I'll let them know how amazing you are.

Then time stops. 

Calum is here, and he's walking towards me, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

I don't care anymore, I throw myself into his arms. After a second, he pulls away and offers me his arm.

"I couldn't let you go through this alone," he says, "may I have the honour of walking you down the aisle?"

I choke back a sob. I'm so sorry, Calum. 

And for the thousandth time, I shake my head. "No."

Calum's face turns grave. "Right," he clears his throat and straightens his shirt. I didn't even compliment on his attire today; he put so much effort into it. 

Turning on his heel, I watch as Calum walks away, tears burning the back of my eyes.

I can't let him walk me down the aisle, just to find out that I'm going to run away with money. I can't hurt him again and again and again.

"I'm ready," I nod at the girl, my voice coming out broken. 

And then I walk through the doors, alone.

***

I hardly hear the cheers. I hardly hear the congratulations. I hardly feel the confetti on my arms. I shut out all the noises out, shut everything out. I'm just walking down an alley between two buildings, it's not walking down the aisle, nothing to worry.

But I can feel Calum's intense, burning gaze. I keep telling myself that he's better off hating me, but the truth is I don't really know that at all.

As the cows are being spoken and the cash is handed over to me in a briefcase, my heart hammers. And as Wesley leans in for his first kiss from the bride, I do the only thing I've learnt my whole life. 

I kick his shin, rip off my skirt, and run.

Come and get me, Wesley with that sh***y a**.

You'll never.