Dead Either Way (Under Major Editing)

Surprise Meeting:

Her tears soaked into the mud.

She understood Cleo in a way that she never had before. No wonder she blocked out almost all of her emotional outputs. She had to kill her ally in cold blood, along with the Careers. A person she knew well, and liked, maybe even loved.

It was still almost impossible for her to think of. Jax is really dead. She swore that if someone cut open her skull, they would see carvings of his face and her hair into them. His light blue eyes and shaggy brown hair that was always brushed over his eyes. Her light blond braids that just reached her shoulders and her eyes of light brown. How they looked, sounded, laughed.

Until nightfall, she was almost unable to move more than a couple of feet. Her energy had been completely sucked out of her body. Jax's body had been taken away. They'd taken the swords she swore she'd carry. She hated herself for not getting them. For not having the guts to get them. She didn't even have the energy to cry at all of these facts, which was almost worse. It felt like she couldn't even grieve normally. The lethargy seemed to dampen her senses. Sticks cracked and birds chirped and she heard the buzzing of big wings and none of it felt real, like it was reaching to her through syrup, through an almost uncrossable distance, until it got to her.

She could see the bloody spear that she'd killed Cashmere with. It was the only thing she could take now, his body stolen from her. The spear lay on the ground beside her, an eight-inch wide spread down the whole point and onto the handle. It had coated itself with deep, dark red blood that would never wash out. A mark of her guilt.

She'd broken her oath to not become a monster. Both of her friends were dead, and she had just killed a boy trying to get home to his family. Like everyone else in this arena. I really just did kill a boy. In a desperate game to get back to a he could never achieve. Look at Cleo. She never recovered.

She reached over and shoved the spear further away, now looking down to her sai. Maybe it's better if I die here. Right now. I'd never see the very worst of the fighting. Hopefully one of the people I like will win. Maybe they won't even go crazy as the victor.

Two from District Six had gotten addicted to morphling, some kind of drug. Haymitch Abernathy, from Twelve, who'd gotten hitched to alcohol. No wonder no one's won since him. He's been too drunk to mentor. A girl named Annie from District Four who'd become absolutely hysterical. The Career winners always seemed to take it the best. Would Cashmere have taken it well? The world will never know now. I could've helped him. Could've nursed him back to health. He wouldn't have killed me after that. A new ally. I chose the wrong path.

Kara managed to eat some cattail root, and even unzipping the backpack seemed to take effort, making her lie down on the ground again. The taste was still sharp in her mouth. Then she rolled out the blanket down on the ground and laid down on it, hoping sleep would claim her easily. She had no such luck. First, the anthem and the faces. After Cashmere, she heard a curious sound. The small amount of mockingjays in the trees were now repeating one high, shrill note all throughout the forest. She almost forgot about that when it came to Jax's face.

His slightly cocky look was now magnified in the sky for all to see, the eyes looking like they glowed. A flicker, then just the noises of the forest. There were no goodnights.

It took her until the sun rose early that morning to get a wink. She kept rolling over, certain something was under her back that was rubbing her the wrong way, some bothersome stick or rock she could shove, but there was nothing. It just felt so wrong, without Jax there with her. And I will never see him again. And now she was a wreck.

Small tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. She bit her lip so hard she drew blood, salty in her mouth, which made her think of the blood on the spear, practically painted red. I'm a terrible person. But at least I can cry. She thought, watching the sun make its way through the sky. She'd barely gotten an hour of sleep, she estimated. She hated the fact that she had to keep moving. She could meet someone she didn't want to run into. Someone who could kill her in the terrible state she was in. She probably wouldn't even fight back.