The 55th Hunger Games

Epilogue

        A small dark-haired boy reaches for my hand as he steps into the crisp morning. His warm dark eyes, so similar to his mother's, search mine for reassurance. I smile down at him and stand aside as his mother -my wife- comes through the door. She grips the hand of an even smaller child -a girl, whose light eyes linger about curiously, full of wonder. Her hair is dark like her brother's, but it is a mystery to both Rose and I how our daughter got such light blue eyes.

        My son begins to pull my hand, anxious to get going. A small bag is over his shoulder carrying his note book, a pencil and his lunch for the day. Today is his first day of school -something he has both been looking forward to and dreading. It will be the first time he has ever been apart from both I and his mother. I have to say, I am not thrilled about the parting myself, but I know he will be alright.

        As a family we walk out of the Victor's Village, towards the school that I have not visited for years.

        My daughter gazes about silently as we walk, taking in the sights and smells of the town. I find Rose's eyes and smile at her. She smiles back at me and I turn to our son again.

        Years ago, I would never have believed this day would happen. After returning alive from the Hunger Games nearly twenty years ago, I had decided that I would never marry, let alone have children. I never planned to condemn any child to the peril I had to survive in the games.

        Part of my resolution was due to Aponi. I had missed her sorely and mourned her often after the games ended. I never wanted to feel sadness like that again and I doubted I would ever marry anyway because I loved her so well.

        Sometimes when sitting up in the old oak tree when I was younger I would think I could feel her sitting there with me, but I have not sensed her for a long while. Now when I think about her, she feels like little more than part of a strange dream. In fact, the 55th Hunger Games do too; a horrible dream conjured by my anxious mind. But as much as I wish I only imagined it, I am still reminded constantly of exactly how real the games were.

        As games go, mine was neatly swept under a rug and soon mostly forgotten about by most of Panem. I have been one of the lucky ones. Blight, the District 7 tribute who soon followed after me was not so lucky, and neither was the girl, Johanna, who won not so long ago.

        Liza is now dead and so is our first Victor, Coil, as well as Morry who seemed to have had enough of life long ago. Seamus is still alive, but barely holds on. He is still the mentor, but there is talk of Blight soon taking over the lead position with Johanna as his assistant.

        Johanna's Victory was strangely familiar to me as I was forced, as everyone in Panem is, to watch the games. Seamus got the idea from Mahamari, it seems. He made her act like a snivelling weakling until she got into the arena when she could display her ability to kill. I suppose this time around it worked and she won.

        I have not spoken a great deal to her even though she lives right across from me. I guess in some ways she just reminds me too much of Mahamari.

        Marigold is still around too, designing tree costumes each year for the tributes of District 7 along with her partner, Teal. I have not seen her in person for a while, but I still see her on TV, and scarily she looks as young and wicked as ever.

        Also, Krissy has retired and another younger Capitol lady has taken her place as the new District 7 escort. I find I don't feel too sad about this, because in part from the crazy appearances they flaunt, I struggle to see much difference between them.

        As we approach the school together I can see the familiar asphalt courts where Josh, Kerry and I used to play ball games. A wave of nostalgia sweeps over me for the life I no longer have. Rose and I share a look, remembering, as we sit on a low bench and wait for the bell to ring.

        Our son, Hart, soon leaves us to play a chasing game with other children his age. Our daughter, Kimani, wants to play with them too but Rose shows her how to make daisy chains instead and she is quickly distracted, trying to copy her mother who picks daisies beside the bench.

        I smile softly as I watch them both, flickering my gaze between them and Hart. I don't think I'll ever get happier than I am right now, so I simply bath it in, enjoying the moment.

        Yes, I had loved Aponi in the past and there is still a place for her in my heart. That place does not go away, but I love Rose so fully, just as much as I loved Aponi. I am not in love with Aponi like I am with Rose, but it is something else, like the love I feel for my brother and sister. And even though I have not spoken to her for so long, I remember her well.

        I gently place my hand over Rose's. She was always there for me after my games finished, even more so than Josh and Kerry. In fact, she had almost become part of my family too. Each day I spent with her I grew to love her even more. And now we are together and I am as happy as I ever could have been after the games.

        At my touch, Rose looks up at me with her gentle brown eyes.

        "Do you miss this place too?" She asks me.

        "More than ever," I reply. "But I can't turn back time."

        "It would be nice to know if things would have turned out differently if you hadn't been reaped," she says, looking up at the school buildings.

        I take this in and smile. "Well, in part from my degraded mental health, I don't think my life would be too far from where it is now. I think I still would have fallen in love with you."

        She smiles at me teasingly.

        "Perhaps, but you might have done so another way. I would have told you when we were much younger that I loved you and we might have come together earlier."

        "Wait," I say. "When exactly did you love me?"

        She shrugs.

        "I liked you before you went to the games Taslim, but I didn't love you until later when you returned."

        I look at her in bewilderment. She only grins back at me.

        "I assume you didn't know that?"

        I shake my head, grinning a little.

        "Never would have guessed it," I reply.

        "Well, better late than never." 

        Kimani looks up at us both with curious blue eyes, holding out a daisy for her mother to take. It is strange, but she reminds me oddly of Aponi. Rose thinks so too. We named her as we did because Kimani means butterfly, just as Aponi's name meant. Butterflies symbolise change, transformation and hope, a name we both found fitting for her.

        We hear the clanging school bell ring and I see Hart running towards us. Hart - meaning brave.

        I stand, taking my son's hand as Rose lifts Kimani up into her arms.

        I try not to think about the Hunger Games soon approaching as I walk him into school. Who knows what they will bring? I can only hope that something will change soon before my children reach age twelve.

        Let the 74th Hunger Games begin.

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There it is - the end. I hope it was satisfying to read. In fact, I hope the whole story was. I would like to thank you all so much for your support. You're all amazing! Thank you for sticking with me till the end and contributing your opinions and voting. I could not be more thankfull to all of you.

 - Breeze