𝟏𝟒; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡

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NEWT HATED HIMSELF. He had despised the Capitol his whole life, had despised anyone who supported the corrupted government or the Hunger Games. But the hatred he felt during those times could not compare even a tiny bit to the guilt and loathing he felt towards himself at the moment.

It was the day after Rosalind had been taken away by the Careers, and Newt and Thomas had done nothing but worry over the girl, feeling sorry for themselves. Thomas was visibly upset, but Newt just felt... empty. Sure, the shadows of his anger still threatened to consume his heart and mind, but whenever he felt a flicker of his pain, he shoved it far down so that it was merely numb instead of insufferable. 

To make matters worse, the Gamemakers apprently wanted them to pay for their idiocy and decided to send down some heavy rain. So the two boys had no choice but to huddle in their hollow, empty shelter, forced to turn to nothing but their angry thoughts for company.

The harsh pitter patters of the pouring outside drowned out all other sounds as Newt huddled in a corner of the shelter, hugging his knees to him and head. He didn't care about the fact that the soil he was sitting on was wet, nor the fact that his hair was sticking down the sides of his head. Wild drops of cold rain seeped through the cracks of the roof, splattering his back every now and then.

Memories of Rosalind being taken away shot up blinding jolts of pain once more, and it was all Newt could do to keep them at bay. His heart seemed to beat a little too loudly in his ears, the roar of his blood rising over the rain. He couldn't understand why he was acting and feeling this way. It wasn't as if he'd known Rosalind his entire life. In fact, if the scenarios changed and it was his sister, Lizzy, who was taken away instead, he probably would have acted the same way, maybe with even more desperation. So why did he feel so much hatred towards himself for not stopping the Careers take Rose away?

His memories threatened to poison him again, and he shoved them far in the back of his mind. Moping about the situation wouldn't anyone any good. Rosalind was as good as dead. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Newt heard the shuffling of feet beside him, and a moment later someone sat down on the damp soil beside him. There was a long pause in which neither boys spoke, the silence expanding between them.

Then he heard Thomas say, "I haven't really been honest with you."

When Newt didn't respond, he continued, "I'm not actually from District 12. In fact, I don't belong in any of the districts. I came from the Capitol."

More silence. The only thing Newt could hear was his heavy breathing and the downpour.

"I... I would have told you and Rosalind about it earlier but... I didn't want you two to see me in a different way."

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