𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ❦ The Hunger Games Sequel

six

☆ CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE! ☆
031. to loose your mind

|| ALONE ||
❝I know you're
dying to meet me,
but I can just tell
you this, baby as
soon as you meet
me, you'll wish
that you never
did.❞

➳➳

I KNEW WHAT would've happened to me as soon as I opened my mouth. And yet, when I let my own words free to fly just like Carmella's secret encouragements from the other side of the room, I didn't even care.

I knew it would hurt, and the chance of waking up again would be intertwined with deals with the devil himself, but there was a relief in knowing that. A simple breath of air that I could gulp away from its' usual stream when I realised everything could just end if I tried hard enough; the voices as sticky and thick as Carmella's blood could be swept away or given to some other poor soul that wanted them because they wouldn't be able to find a home in me anymore. Instead, I would finally look into the darkness without seeing something look back. Maybe I could find my feet in another world- or simply just let my body rest.

As I was dragged towards another office I didn't kick or scream. I didn't flail my arms around to try and find a wall I could stick my fingernails into for traction- I just let it all go. Why? I heard another voice ask as they sat me down without a word or change in the air. Why would I just give in?

I had been fighting too long and too hard for something that I wouldn't get- in the deepest locket within myself I knew the shadows and ghosts that followed me would never go away after I'd embraced every memory- that I never had a chance to begin with. They had convinced me I was never supposed to go home, that from the first moment I stepped into the Capitol it was all just one large charade to lead me back to the end, even when there was nothing at all to suggest it.

Maybe I'd always been blind.

There was no point in my survival now. My brother wouldn't have done anything like this, and my brother would never have gotten himself in a situation like I had. I couldn't ignore them anymore, instead I saw each of most demons as spirits that would guide me to their fallen souls so I could finally give them peace.

That's what everything wanted in the end, a peace so white and clear nothing to stain its' everlasting memory or the tranquility attached to that. Even the President wanted it as he looked down at my shivering hands and blood soaked eyes, or when he glanced at the group of tributes I could catch on the other side of the room after I'd been watching them for a little too long.

He smiled when he saw me staring, and even more so when the voice of Carmella (encouraging me to push against the iron restraints) made me flinch.

Even now President Snow wasn't angry, although his eyes hinted that he was discontent, as he watched me try to cover my ears with bound down hands. There was something within him that seemed to have finally clicked into place; he had figured something out, something that seemed as important as the screaming in my ears from another tribute reacting to the sight of their own dead friends.