all too well

chapter nine. . . end of beginnings

SCYTHE AND I ARE STUNNED AS WE WATCH THE CAREERS RUNNING TOWARDS US. He clutches his knife tightly by his side, nodding at me. My heart's racing because there's nothing I want to do less than kill them, but the same can't be said for them. They look ready to plunge their daggers straight through my heart—but can I really blame them? I did murder three of their friends. Or two. Wait, how many did I kill? These past few days have been such a blur that I don't know who died and how, and now is not the time to make that list. . .

There's anger in their eyes as one launches their spear at me, Scythe shoves me to the ground and my face hits the floor hard. He bolts after them, his sword slicing through one of their necks—it's the first I've seen him kill. It seemed so unnatural of him, so ruthless and bloody, that for a second I wondered if I'd blacked out again and slashed the boy from two's throat myself. I'd disassociated him from our murderous plans, and watching him do it now didn't feel right. "Get up," he roars, and I scramble to my feet. My head whips around as I look for my weapon, but I wasn't fast enough on my feet and a knife flies into my thigh.

Crying out in pain, I see the grin on her face widen. She's not doing this to kill me. She's doing it to hurt me. I yank it out, going against my better judgment, and sprint for her, avoiding the blow of another knife. Her face becomes fearful as I grab her shoulder, and I pause briefly, seeing the same scared expression that Azalea had before she died. My hand was still raised in the air—knife still at the ready—but I was frozen. If I did this I was no better than her. And I want to be, I really do.

"Why aren't you doing anything?" Silena snapped, "We both know you can," tears slowly rolling down her cheeks as I looked back and saw her only other weapon lying on the floor behind me. She uses this to her advantage and shoves me to the ground, yanking the knife out of my hand. When she grabs it, she winces in pain, but other than that you couldn't tell anything was wrong—except for the blood gushing from her hand. "That's right because you're just a stupid girl from twelve! The runt of the litter." I scramble back, but it's no use, Scythe is busy fighting Jewel and Silena towers over me. Even though she hasn't eaten in a couple of days, she is still strong and muscular. I'm all skin and bones. "You know, I'm impressed you lasted this long, you must have broken a record or something. But I am not dying! I am definitely not letting District twelve earn their first female tribute!" she rants, and I can't help but smirk. "What are you smirking at?"

"It already has," I reply. She freezes, her face scrunching up in confusion. I kick her feet out and she falls to the floor with me. Carefully manoeuvring my body, I find myself straddling her waist and holding the knife to her throat. My thigh burns, as the adrenaline fades away. Suddenly, I can feel all the bruises, cuts and pain that I hadn't realised I had. Looking down at Silena, I know there is only one last thing to do. "And believe me, she didn't raise a loser," the words felt foreign on my tongue—but the dagger to her heart was personal. She screamed, holding my shoulders back, but it didn't stop me. Couldn't stop me. Adrenaline coursed through me, preventing me from acting against my better judgment—once again, I was leaning on my natural instinct.

A canon fires after the fourth stab to Silena's heart, and I watch the light drain from her eyes. Was the cannon premature, or was my mind playing tricks on me? I don't know. I shut my eyes for a moment, feeling disgusted at what I'd just done when I felt something sharp against my back. "You were so close," Jewel whispered teasingly. My head snaps in Scythe's direction, only to see him sprawled on the floor. I want to call out for him, but there's no point. If he wasn't dead, he was certainly knocked out. "I'm going to enjoy killing you—"

"Why? Because that's all you're good at? Killing. Seems sad to me," I interrupt her. She scowls, her pretty features turning harsh.

She shakes her head swiftly, but it seems like she's convincing herself more than me. "No, I'm skilled at other things," she replies.