Task Nine: the Ties that Break

   Dear Receiver of this letter,

        I am writing to you for reasons I’m sure you already know. I can’t believe what happened, nor can I live with it anymore. I mean you saw it all, when I thought you were experiencing it with me....what she did to us in there...what she made you into, I cannot continue to relive. I see it every day; I watch you die all over again, I see you torn from my side, in pain, being tortured. And I can do nothing to stop it. Then to find out that the whole time, everything we experienced together, was fake? Unreal? But a hologram in the form of the one person I had left to love, sent to destroy me?

    I guess I should begin where this all started: The Hunger Games.

It had been three days; three consecutive days since the death of my ally, and friend. Yes, it took death for me to realize she was my friend. Even then, I didn’t deserve her as one. The days in the arena seemed to pass almost unnaturally. From one moment to the next you felt disoriented, lost, in a haze. I guess such things should be expected at the hands of the Capitol. But what came next, I had no way of preparing for.

   You were siezed from me in a second. One minute we’re discussing the weather, how it’s going to effect the next couple of days, and then suddenly – you vanished. Still it is unclear to me all the details, but here’s what I do know;

It was warm; clouds hung in the air, a mist settled over the field, we shivered under a tree yet it was warm. They were just taunting us, I knew. Screwing with our heads through the weather and the pathetic thing is, it was working.

    “Ty, you have to stop.” Avery’s calm, monotone filled my ears and I shifted only partially towards her to listen. While she kept most of her emotion from showing, I could hear that little hint of concern trailing her voice.

   “Sulking won’t bring her back. I know you two had a strong connection for whatever reason, but –” she paused. What was she going to say next? So far her inspiring speech only accomplished two things: to irritate me, and to hurt me. Irritation came from the fact that she was trying to insert herself into my thoughts; that could never end well. Pain came from her bringing up the harsh reality that, yes, Willow was gone forever and no matter how fierce my efforts, nothing could bring her back. She was to have a baby, and she still ended up another murder victim of the Games. Truth is, the world was cruel. But I couldn’t let that get to me.

     “Did you see the sky today? Heavy clouds. Could indicate a storm, probably it’ll last the next few days.” I mumbled incoherantly. Or at least, I thought it was. Avery drew her eyes to the heavens, just to humor me. She was trying to help, but it did little to comfort me. Death had been all around me my whole life; so why did Willow’s effect me so much?

   “Yeah. Probably only two or three, the Gamemaker’s wouldn’t want us too – ” her voice, not trailing or dropping or even lowering, just simply ended. The sound of her breathing ceased to flow into my ears; her presence, so rich and secure, failed to meet my senses; her words ended as though on a film someone had just paused.

    “Avery?” I questioned, though confused. I turned and she had disappeared; confusion was my only emotion as I stared at where her body had just occupied a space; what had happened? It was as if she was lifted right out of thin air, gone, whoosh, like a ghost in the wind.  “Avery!?” I shouted again, with more meaning to my tone. I stood and reached for my swords but something odd happened again. They were gone too. This mystery only kept deepening; voices whispered through the forest into my ears, something wasn’t right. I knew, I felt my sanity slipping away, and that’s why I had to act.

    Don’t you see? I did this all for you.

I forced myself down to the level of calm, collecting my thoughts and rationalizing irrational events. I could hardly think straight, but one thing stood out for sure: Akayla had an obsession with where it all began. I had to get to the cornucopia, for whatever reason, I knew that was my key. Bewildered beynd belief, disoriented and exhausted, I tore my way through the forest, thinking only of those whom I lost. Isaiah, Trent, my parents, my siblings, my friends, Willow, Rye - Avery. My breath drew in short, my thoughts rapid as I wildly made my way on foot to the place of beginning.

   The silver, streamlined structure met my eyes in a haze of shadows and gloomy winds. Darkness had settled upon the small clearing, though still bright daylight rang throughout the rest of the arena. From whence I just came the voices urged me forward, and I had to listen to them. Into the fog I went, with an agenda in mind that couldn’t be persuaded by even you, my dear Avery. I knew I had no weapons, I was completely vulnerable, yet something drew me in to the place of complete surrender. I must confront my enemies to get you back, my love.

    Out of my peripheral vision, from the corner of the silver structure loomed a shadow. A male, probably the only one left: Cobalt. His ruthless district had previously been responsible for many of the Hunger Games murders; his district housed the highest number of Victors, next to Two and Four. But those tributes had already been killed, some at the hands of myself.

    Cobalt hung back, unusual for him, and put more distance between us. I wondered where his allies went, but then again, we were the finalists, they probably split up. Really the only other one I had to worry about was Temperance, the others were weaklings.

    I followed Cobalt around the edge of the structure, suddenly coming face-to-face with my wretched enemy and his handful of brick. He tried bludgening me over the head with it, but my arms were quickly raised in an attempt to preserve myself. Akayla’s words hung in my mind all throughout this encounter: “you die, the siblings die.” I must protect you, Avery. Always.

    As quickly as I could I reversed our positions, taking the object from his hands, though not very easily mind you, and shoving him down. His body hit the dirt and grass hard, it almost sounded like what he landed on had been rock, not soil. My body came down on top of his, positioning itself so that no matter how hard he tried to he wouldn’t be able to move. I gripped the red brick in one hand, holding his collar in the other, and just beat. My clenched fist came barreling down to meet his precious face over and over and over again until blood splattered here and there. And he was still alive. He coughed and sputtered, even putting his hands up to block my vengeful blows.

   Finally, he attempted to mock me in order to throw me off my game, or distract me, or stall me or whatever it was. He spoke in order to get my attention, not to save himself, but to watch me suffer as I beat him to death. “You miss your precious preggo girl?” I froze, hand midway between my head and his. “That’s right, you guessed it, my team of allies is responsible for her death. We killed Willow Hemsoworth – ” he sat up using one arm to support him so he could be close when he told me. “I killed her.” At that moment pure rage took me over; I was like a chainsaw who’s engine was stuck on go. I just kept striking his skull with that brick, revelling in the sounds it made as it was crushed, cracked, and split clean open. I’d been desensitized, stripped of any ounce of humanity I had left. I don’t like what I became in that instant, Avery. I don’t like it at all.

    His other ally and my district partner came around the corner next. She was shocked, and screamed at the sight of all that blood. His cannon had gone off ages ago, not long after I began my rampage. But I hardly noticed as I let the murderous feelings sink in just a little more each second. I liked it, Avery; I actually enjoyed the rush it gave me to bash in someone’s skull. I’m a monster. I can hardly stand to look at you anymore, knowing what you see in me is real; you see fear, and uncontrollable anger. You see a monster locked up inside me and we’re both just waiting for it to get out and chase after one or both of us. I can’t stand to be like this anymore; so I’m leaving you.

    Yes, I murdered Chelsea next. My district’s own flesh and blood. I walked to her and snapped her neck. It seemed more humane than what I’d done to Cobalt; it was quick, clean, and effective. It was over in seconds. The last thing left to do was tackle the District One prize. She was inside the cornucopia, no surpise there, stocking up on whatever small weapons Akayla left for us in there, to fight over like dogs. But I wasn’t going to be fighting over weapons with her just now; I would be fighting over life. She watched me enter the tiny room, closing the space between her and the only exit. Her eyes studied my every move; part of me wanted her to kill me, but the other part, the one that loves you, told me to win.

    She dropped a few items and came at me with brass knuckles and a metal rod. How these were supposed to serve as weapons, I hardly knew, until it struck me a moment later; Akayla wants the end to be brutal. She doesn’t want quick and efficient, like Chelsea, she wants slow, painful, rage-infused deaths to mark the close of another Hunger Games.

     If brutality and ruthlessness were all that she wanted in exchange for my freedom and life, I wasn’t about to turn that deal down. I let Temperance fly past me at flushing speed, tripping over her own feet when she tried to slow herself down outside. I took two of the bricks from the stack lying around that Cobalt had also stolen from, and walked out of the Cornucopia with a calm, collectedness which no child murderer should ever have. I should’ve been breaking down, showing a little humanity. But I felt a sudden thrill when confronted with the Career; I was going to enjoy this kill.

      She lunged at me with her objects, completely missing again when I sidestepped, and watched her smack into the side of the cornucopia, breaking her nose in the process. She screeched just once, gripping her face and then turning for me to watch her nose bleed uncontrollably. The sight, somehow, made me feel good. And I hate that.

    “Bring it on.” She murmured against me. She held up her knuckles and made sure to twist her rod in my face, in case I wanted to surrender now. But I felt a need; it should’ve been the need to protect you, the need to protect myself even. But it wasn’t. It was a need to kill.

   Quickly we launched at each other, both bearing down with incredible agility. But she sidestepped unexpectedly, and bashed me over the back of my neck with her rod. I fell, but regained my composure almost as quickly as I did so. Her menacing eyes bore the trademark of a serial career, one who puts all of their time and effort into training for this moment. While I’d had not nearly as much training as she did, I still possessed one quality which she might’ve lacked; a psychotic break.

  It’s true, Avery. In those last few moments, only thinking of you, I broke. I’d been pushed too far; I couldn’t do this anymore. I snapped, became what I always feared I’d be; a monster. And I know that’s not an excuse, and I know that’s not a reason but can you just trust me? It’s over for me. There is nothing left for me to do, for me to be. I can be of no use to society anymore. I’m sorry. So sorry.

I somehow managed to get the girl away from her stick, but she still had those brass knuckles in her possession. I ran my fingers over my chosen murder weapons and looked her in the eye one more time. She knew it was over the moment red clay flew through the air on impact, and sent her spiraling to the ground in a heartbeat. The wind was knocked out of her as soon as she was lying there; I took my chance. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I got down on top of her just like I did her partner, and began hitting her over and over and over again until I saw nothing but red.

   The next thing I remember, was seeing you, Avery. Your face blurred into my vision as I woke up in a Capitol hostpital bed. You smiled, and that’s when you told me Akayla had returned you and the others as soon as she took you the first time.

  While the psych meds helped a little, I’m afraid I couldn’t stop those murderous thoughts. I kept thinking of those times when I killed people, innocent people. I kept thinking of different ways to murder people and I just can’t take it anymore! Avery, I’ve tried! For you, for the world, for everything but I just can’t survive like this anymore. I hope you understand.

And so it is with a heavy heart that I now must take my own life. With a single bullet it will all be over with; the world will no longer need to see my face or be plagued by my presence; you will no longer have to look upon my face and see what I’ve become; and when the darkness comes, when the lights fade out and the pain goes away, just know this: I’ll finally be free. Let that be your comforting thought.

    Goodbye, Avery Rivendelle. May your life be filled with great joy in my wake.

                                 Tiberius Rivendelle, District Thirteen.

Bang.