— GWYNETH —
MY THOUGHTS SPIN as I step out of the tribute train, wavering footprints embedded into the afternoon mud as I attempt to leave the devastating memories of the Hunger Games behind.
My head feels light and I feel like vomiting, as the presence of the sight before me overwhelms me.
A crowd is gathered before my eyes, and I am greeted with a sight of cheers, cries, and boos. A confusing mix of emotions fills my heart and I can't stop wandering into the world of negative thoughts.
Am I grateful to be here, or guilty of being here when my friends didn't make it? Am I happy for surviving past thirteen, or liable for being why all my friends didn't live?
The only thing I can see are those two faces. Those two people who raised me. My family and my forever home - never blaming, always understanding. The thing is now for sure - that I'm home. With my parents.
At this moment, they are all that matter to me. I don't care at all what the others think of me. I feel hundreds of pairs of eyes fixated on me, judging me, as I rush towards them with light footsteps.
The familiar smell of my mom's perfume wafts into my nose, and a tear falls down my cheek as my parents envelop me in their tight embrace.
I feel a light touch stroke my head gently, and I awkwardly turn to face Eunice's parents. Once again, my eyes fill with tears. I think of how I'm here and Eunice is not. I think of how I let her die before my own eyes. I think of how she was only two months older than me, and now I will grow old without her.
Eunice was my best friend, my soul sister, and my partner in crime. One of the only people who would ever truly understand me in this world.
How could I? How could I just stand by and stare while the life drained out of her? How could I just stand there, looking at her chocolate brown eyes, staring up at me for the last time? How could anyone even bear to do this to her?
She was so young. So innocent. Her life taken away by one brash decision, with one flick of a knife. By Byrok and their stupid Games.
She is dead. She is gone. And now I will never see her again. Neither will her parents. And I caused it.
The words can't seem to form in my mouth. "I-I'm sorry. I-I cou-couldn't save her,"
Mrs Seyfield wipes my tears away with her loving hands, but in her eyes, I can see hurt and pain. "Honey, it's not your fault."
Her comforting voice reaches me, but it also doesn't at the same time. My guilt of not being able to save my best friend overwhelms me. Eunice died. She DIED. To save ME.
I wasn't able to fulfil my promise. I wasn't able to protect her. I wasn't able to save her with my own life. I wasn't even able to stop her from saving me. How could she be so selfless; and I, so selfish? And now, I will live my life full of guilt, a massive piece torn away from me with the absence of my light, my motivation, and my best friend.
My face is streaked with tears. I turn away from the people watching me, breaking my gaze into Mrs Seyfield's eyes. I run, across streets, across shops, and across the bakery where Eunice and I always loved to look at the cakes.
The scenery passes before my eyes. It looks the same, yet feels so different. The times where we played in the park have become none but only a melancholic memory. Not only are the memories gone, the people with whom I played are gone, too.
I run onto the curb next to my neighbourhood. I grew up here. My school, my playground, my everything. I grew up here, carefree with all my friends. This part of the Adelaide Woods was, and is, my home, but everything's different now.
My friends, my closest friends, they're all gone.
I am haunted by nightmares. I'm haunted by how they were claimed from this world, how they slipped away into the darkness without even a short goodbye. I wonder if they are in Heaven now, or if they resent me for what I did.
My running has slowed down to a walk. I walk across a solid brick house - opposite from mine. This house belongs to the Levine family. Charlotte Levine. Her brother, Adrian, and her parents.
The Levine family are getting ready to walk their dog. They weren't at the train station, yet it's obvious to me that they've been crying a lot. From a few meters away, I can see their eyes - bloodshot, glaring at me.
I didn't expect anything less, but now that it's a reality, chills run down my spine. They can blame me all they like. I killed Charlotte. I killed my own friend. I killed their daughter, and worst of all, I killed Adrian Levine's sister. The person he looked up to the most.
Even if I didn't have a choice.
Echoes fill my head. Echoes that no one but I are able to hear. My hands fly up to my ears and I scream in horror. With all the strength I can muster, I break into a sprint and rush inside my house, slamming the door with a bang.
Voices murmur outside and my feet take me to my room. Once the door is shut, I collapse onto my bed, screaming and clawing at myself, burying myself in the sheets.
Knock. Knock.
Deja Vu. The day I entered the games. The day everything changed, even more, for the worsted. The day we entered the arena - a living hell, and the days leading up to the loss of my friends and everyone I loved.
"No, NO!" I scream. "Eunice! Kunboss! Zoey! Charlotte! Laine! Nathan!"
"THEY ALL DESERVED TO LIVE BUT NOT ME!"
They're all gone. Gone. Dead. Away from this world.
"GO AWAY!" I answer in a raspy voice.
Everything in the arena haunts me. My makeup has been ruined. Tears run all over my face, causing my mascara to melt.
I take one look in the mirror and start yelling all over again. I look like a monster.
Because I am one.
"I'M A MONSTER. I HATE MYSELF!"
I scream into my pillow, blocking out all noise from the outside world.
I beat myself, again and again, hoping that just one slap would bring me back to reality. Maybe this is all just a nightmare, I think to myself.
My face turns red from how many times I slap myself, but I can't wake up. It's reality, I think.
No. NO. I slowly slip from consciousness, falling asleep in the tangled sheets. It was never a dream, never a nightmare. And I fear I won't ever be able to escape.
YOU ARE READING
² SECOND CHANCE ─ the hunger games
Teen Fictionchance (n.) possibility of something happening. CHECKMATE #2 "am i supposed to be happy that i lived and won? because technically i could never be." The victor's crown sits upon Gwyneth Anderson's head. She can't process the horrors she went throug...