No Regrets (a Hunger Games Fan Fiction)

34. Possibilities

        Adam's fine, in case you're wondering. He decided to be wise and shut up for a while so he wouldn't be noticed by District Five. He was going to find a way to kill her, but after he listened in on our conversation, he decided against it and just watched.

        Watched as I killed her.

        Sure, she'd wanted to die. But that doesn't make any difference to me. The guilt of her murder still stays heavy in my chest, alongside the death of the District Seven girl.

        Anyway, back to Adam. He's fine, despite the fact that her spear went clean through his right hand. I wrapped it up for him, and his sponsors sent some pain medication and antibiotics. After that he mumbled something about taking a nap, and passed out up in another temporary tree.

        He wakes up long after the sun sets, after District Five's face is in the sky. “Adam,” I whisper, “we’re the only ones left.  Just us and Mr. District Seven.”

“His name’s Damian. Damian Ryder.” Adam informs me, “I remember it from the Reaping recaps.”

“Well, his name doesn’t really matter. Where he is, that’s what matters.” I tell him, standing up.

“Yes, it does.” Adam agrees, taking my wrist and bringing me back to the ground, “But we’re not going to go looking for him in the dark. That’s stupid. We’ll wait until sunrise.”

Now that I think about it, it is stupid. There’s no way of seeing where we are going, and if we had one we couldn’t use it. And we couldn’t see him if he were there. I need to stop being so impulsive… “You’re right. We’ll stay here, and then at sunrise we’ll go. I’ll take the first watch; I'm not tired.”

“Okay.” Adam says with a yawn, climbing back into his sleeping bag. Almost instantly he’s quietly snoring.

        As I watch the dark forest around me, a thought occurs to me: It’s just Adam, Damian, and myself. If Adam and I manage to kill Damian, then we’ll be the last ones standing… And one of us will have to kill the other. And whoever returns home after that will be shunned. Shunned for killing one of our own, when we could’ve killed ourselves. But, if, for example, it were Adam and I standing, and I drove a knife into my own chest, Adam would still be shunned. They’d ask why he didn’t stop me. If he drove the knife into my chest, they’d shun him for killing his fellow District Three tribute. There’s no way to win. Either one of us has to die fighting Damian, kill the other, or commit suicide.

        I know what I’m supposed to think; if it came down to me and Adam, that I would kill myself. Or ask him to kill me. Or to let myself die by Damian’s hands. But that’s not what I think; I don’t know what I’d do. I’d certainly not let myself die at Damian’s hands, that’s for sure. I’d rather kill myself than have him kill me. But, if it came down to me and Adam, would I kill him? Or would I kill myself (I wouldn’t ask him to kill me, that’d make it much worse for him to remember and for him back home)? Would I have the courage to drive the knife into his chest, after all we’ve been through together? Or would I rather drive it into my own? I don’t know.

        And that thought haunts me for the rest of the night. Even when my watch is over, I lie awake in the dark, trying to figure out what I’m going to do. But after a while I realize that it’s one of those things where I’ll have to decide when it comes. But even with this reassuring thought, I don’t sleep. The unknown scares me more than anything else, especially this time. This could be my last night. “Expect the unexpected.” Adam once told me that. I have, in a way. I know the possibilities. But I don’t know which one is going to happen, and it’s killing me. When the time comes, what will I do? I don’t know.