I felt a pang in my heart when I saw Ara's face. Although I couldn't look away, because I knew I wouldn't be able to see her again, unless I was watching the Hunger Games. I wouldn't be able to do that. It'd just be too much.
I figured Erin and Fern would be sleeping, so I used this time to find food and a weapon. The moon gave me a little light, but it was eerie in the woods. I didn't know what mutts could be lurking around. I was looking for a sharp rock that could serve as a knife, but the only rocks that were around were the occasional boulders.
I found a stick that had a sharp point. It seemed pretty strong, although I don't know if it would be strong enough to pierce Fern's heart of stone.
I kept my eye out when I was heading back to my "camp", but I didn't really see anything else that could serve as a better weapon. I tried to sharpen it against the tree, and after a few minutes it was relatively sharp. My stomach rumbled. I hadn't eaten since this morning.
I walked a few feet into the woods and found what I was looking for. There was a tasty weed the sometimes grew in vegetable patches. We weren't allowed to eat the food we picked, but it was exhausting, so we'd make a snack out of the weeds.
I pulled up the roots and wiped them on my shirt. It tasted sweet, like sugar. It reminded me of home. I ate the leaves one by one, trying to savor them. I saved the flower for last. It tasted like seasoned meat, which we rarely got in District 11. I found a few more of these plants, and I was stuffed.
I looked around, but I couldn't find any water. I'd had some this morning, so dehydration wouldn't set in until tomorrow. I'd just have to deal with it until then.
I curled up in the small clearing, feeling protected by the overhanging trees. I fell asleep with a full stomach, and my spear in hand.
Found a makeshift spear. Is alone in the woods. He's going to try to find Fern in the morning.
The dawn light appeared under my eyelids. I turn away from my window, hoping for sleep to return. My window. How easily I fell back into the illusion that I was safe. Everything raced beck to me. The games. I wasn't safe yet. I drag myself up, blinking away the dried tears. Only three left. I look to my left, wear Ara's body had lain just the day before. It was gone, not even a blood stain left behind. I sigh, pushing my ratty curls behind my ear. I take a quick drink of my water, glad yet again that Erin had the pity to leave it. I look down at Ara's knife and Gabriel's bow-and-arrow. How is it that the Captiol provided me with knives and I end up with other peoples stuff. I push myself up. I needed to get away. I was so tired of kiling, of being the District One- the killing machine. Plus, a part of me whispered, Kyran will be coming after you in revenge for killing Ara. I almost slapped myself. Stop being so strategic! I tell myself. I can't, the other part argued, I'm a killer now. I force myself to walk, to stop being crazy. I had once promised myself that the heat of the game would never get to me. I think I lied.
It was noon, judging by the sun, and my progress was still slow. I hadn't found a acceptable camp. I was walking slower than a turtle, taking my time. I guess I was just tired of the game. Still, I would play it out. All the way. I smile to myself, spotting a bunny. It looked confused, probably because of the heat. It was scrwny, I could see it's ribs even from where I stood but I needed protein. Erin and my feast wouldn't be able to hold me forever. I crouch down, stalking the rabbit and pulling the bow, getting ready. The rabbit doesn't notice me, but a shiver goes up my back. The kind I only got when someone was watching me. I spot the rabbit in my gaze and shoot it, only to whirl around to see Kyran only feet behind me. I swear as he see's me, and I can see that he seems to swear to. It would almost be ironic and funny if he didn't charge at me a moment later. I pull out Ara's knife and Kyran's eyes glint. I knew immediatley that he was going into what my brother called 'Career mode.' "They go after you like a crazed lunatic, fighting with teeth and nails. Just because they know what you can do, or rather, supspect. They go after you because of you are a career. Just because of that."
"You have her knife." He growled.
I meet his eyes with a steel gaze. " I do."
He shook his head. I see that he still has his make shift raised, as though not sure whether to throw it at me or come back at it with combat. "You shouldn't. It's her's."
"It was."
I could see he had made his mind. He gave me a sad smile, but his eyes were as hard as stone.
"This is what you get for killing her."
I would've gone longer but I realized Kyran had a spear and I didn't know if she had plans with that...So either have Fern kill him next post or have the battle go a little longer, doesn't matter.
I have loved the words and I have hated them. I only hope I have made them right.
Kyran OleanderCrafty, you never responded to my question about Kyran's death, so I'm gonna let you have a "Any last words?" kind of post. I'm not sure if you wanted him to die in this one, but I can go back and fix it if you want me to.
"This is what you get for killing her." It was supposed to sound more menacing than it did, because my voice cracked at the last syllable. That was when I remembered that I hadn't had any water since the day before.
I shook my head, trying not to let these thoughts cloud my judgement. She nodded, and we charged. I stuck out my foot, an old trick I learned defending myself on the playground in elementary school. Fern flew forward and landed on her stomach. I could hear her gasping for air. I knew this was my chance.
I pounced on her back, ready for the kill, when I decided to be nice. "Any last words, Fern? All of Panem is waiting. Including your mother." I smiled a devilish grin, knowing her mother was a soft spot.
"Surprise." She whispered. She flipped onto her back, sending me tumbling across the clearing. She jumped up and hurled herself at me, knife poised at the ready. I rolled out of the just barely in time. She snagged a piece of my already tattered shirt, and I heard it rip.
I was surprised my makeshift spear hadn't broken by then. I'd fallen on it several times already.
My thoughts had delayed me a second, and by the time I realized what was happening, she was standing above me, a victorious grin on her face. On the outside I tried to look scared and defeated, but on the inside, I knew what I was going to do.
I thrust my spear into the back of her knee, and she buckled over, landing clumsily on top of me. I felt a drip of blood, and I smiled, knowing I had injured her. But once I wiggled out from underneath her, I saw the wound wasn't big at all. Only big enough to give me a false sense of hope.
She whirled around, blood lust in her eyes. She didn't look the least bit victorious now. She looked ruthless. I was hoping she'd forgotten all about her Career training. Clearly I was wrong.
She sprang at me, grabbing me by the shoulders. She threw me to the ground and spat in my face.
"I'm a Career, and I will win. You're just a small obstacle in my way, little farmer boy." She slowly drew out her knife from her pocket, flipping it open with one hand. I tried to get away, but she had me pinned. She weighed a lot more than she looked, and she wasn't going to budge.
I gulped, as the knife got closer and closer to my body.
Sorry for the awkward ending, but I'm not sure if Crafty had anything planned.
I could feel myself slipping away with every word I said. I suppose that's what happens in these games. You know who you are and what you want to accomplish and then... it's all gone.
"I'm a Career, and I will win. You're just a small obstacle in my way, little farmer boy." I hear myself say, all my anger and frustration pouring out of me into Kyran.
He gulped as my knife got closer to him, hovering only inches above his chest. It stopped suddenly, suspended in the air. Why did I stop? Why? Adreniline still rushed through me, but my hand would not move. Why-? Why now? My brain rebuked it's comands. I needed it to move! And why did it feel like I was forgetting something, something incredibly important? I shook my head, trying to drown the feeling in waves of anger and adreniline. Whatever it was, it wasn't as important as this. I look back down at Kyran, his eyes open and ready; like he was daring me to end his life.
"Did you love her?" I heard myself- Fern- ask the question. It had been on my mind ever since I killed her. Not up front, where more important things lurked, but back in the dull corners of my mind waiting for an answer.
Kyran looked at me, confusion clouding his eyes. "Who?"
"Ara of course!" I felt myself- the blood thirsty career- get angry with his suspended answer. I was foolish for letting him live a few seconds longer. I brung my hands down, so that my knife rested on his chest. If he moved, his death would come.
"Ara? Ara was just another tribute. She was only protecting me... for Tasha..." A cry stuck in his throat but he looked at me feriously."She was like a sister to me, not that you would know anything about that."
I stuck the knife a little more into his chest and he cried out in pain. "You have no idea what I know. What I've felt for my brothers is way more than you'll ever know! She didn't deserve to hurt them, she didn't!" I realized I was crazy ranting and calmed myself. "Who's Tasha?"
A dull intrest sparked in his eyes. "You are making this as long as possible, aren't you? Cruel car-"I gave him a lazer sharp look and he stopped."She's my girlfriend. Can you finish this now?"
I could hear the weariness in his voice, the same one that haunted mine. I sigh, feeling drained of all my crazed sagacity. He had a family too, a girlfriend. A life. However, I could be put through the blood and weariness. I was a career. He was just a famer's boy. He probably could've fought back earlier, when my knife was barely suspended, but he didn't. I may be muscled and plump, but he was way taller and muscled as well. He was just tired of the games, of the world. Even if he didn't know it. Alarms go off in my head, crying for an unknown cause. Telling me it wasn't time. Why? I was here, I had my answers: I had to kill him.I sink my knife into his chest anyway, hearing him cry in pain. It wasn't super deep, but deep enough to inflict damage.
"No, just one last thing before it's done," I said, my knife tracing paranoid circles on his chest. "Any last words?"
>Inserts Kyrans death post after this<
I have loved the words and I have hated them. I only hope I have made them right.
"Any last words?" She asked me while drawing menacing circles with Ara's knife on my chest.
"Just that, whoever wins, please give something to Tasha and her family. I'm going to miss her so much." I felt a warm tear slide down my face. I saw a glimmer of compassion in her eyes, but it quickly vanished. I wanted to close my eyes, and wait for the end. For some reason, I couldn't close my eyes. Someone out there wanted me to watch my own death.
I saw the knife go in before I felt it. It went in between the spaces between my ribs. The amount of blood was astonishing. But the pain was the real surprise. It was worse than when I stepped on a metal rake with bare feet. It was a million times worse. I screamed in agony, begging for it to end.
She just grinned and moved the knife around. I couldn't believe I wasn't dead yet, although my vision was getting slightly blurry. I could feel my insides moving around. I had a burst of energy, and I ripped the knife from her hand. I gave her a quick jab in the thigh, and then, I slit my own throat. Being dead was better than being in pain.
My vision turned black at the edges. I saw Fern jump up and spit on my leg.
When she heard the cannon shot, Erin's first reaction was for her body to go rigid, then jump violently with fright. Was it Fern or Kyran that had fallen? Erin needed to find out, and soon, so she would know what she had to do. Even though she hated herself for thinking it, she had to hope and pray that Kyran had killed Fern so that she would not have to go through the emotional and conflicting pain of deciding whether to sacrifice herself or kill Fern. At this point, she wasn't sure that she would be able to do either.
The next few hours were the longest of Erin's life, longer than the time she had to wait to find out that Ara had fallen. Erin stayed in her sleeping bag, not daring to move. As it became dusk, her body was rigid and numb with fear. The anthem played, and Erin felt like her insides were entirely filled with butterflies and that she was lying on the bed of them. She was shaking; rather noticeably, and she couldn't control it. The anthem played. For a second or two, dead silence, blackness. Erin closed her eyes. This is it. she said. This could determine if I live or die. When she opened them, she felt as if she could have fainted. Kyran's face showed, which meant Fern was still alive. It was down to Fern and her. Just like she was afraid of. The reason she hated alliances in the first place, why they were stupid idea for a competition like this. Instinctively, Erin jumped out of her sleeping back and ran as fast she could toward the water, holding back tears. She needed a swim. Needed to clear things up.
In the back of her mind, Erin wondered what was going on in the Capitol right now. All of Panem knew how close the two were. There could only be one winner of the games. Who was the favorite? All the gamemakers cared about was creating drama; they already had that with the friendship that Fern and Erin had formed. Now that they were separate, probably on opposite ends of the arena, they would have to try to bring them together for one last confrontation? Who would they aid the most?
As Erin dove into the water and began swimming with as much force as she could, her thoughts turned to her brother. She remembered what she had said to him before leaving. About how she would win and make him proud. At this point in the games, her brother was probably expecting her to come back-- for him to loose her now would be devastating, and he would be all alone- Brent Crane, parents and sister killed, no girlfriend, no other family. Erin was his family.
She continued to cry as she moved gracefully through the water, not letting herself dwell on the fact that this may very well be her last swim. Despite what was to come, it made her feel better. It made her loosen up and think. It wasn't fair that it had to end like this. Why couldn't they have both made it out? Why couldn't they have met under different circumstances? And Erin realized then how evil the games truly were, how unfair and cold and cruel they were. How no one deserved to die, even if they were annoying or just mean, they were still kids. How everyone had a life and people they loved who were counting on them to come home. And Erin cried. She cried for everyone who had ever died in the games, for all of the victors who had to live with trauma of the experience for the rest of their life.
As Erin floated onto her back, she let her tears dry and she watched the night sky. It was beautiful; filled with glittering stars, and the moon shone ever brightly. It seemed out of place. Erin didn't know when she would encounter Fern, but she weighed her options. The only thing she knew was that she wouldn't be able to kill Fern. If she did, she would never be able to live with herself. It would be a half-life that she could barely celebrate or enjoy, because everything would keep coming back to these games. Fern probably wouldn't be able to kill Erin. That left one option. She gazed in the direction of her camp, where she knew her knife lay.
Erin was fifteen. She had hopes and dreams and ambitions that would now never be realized. She was not ready to die. Still, she knew what she had to do, knew that it was right. Fern had to live, had to be the one to win. Erin just had Brent, and despite the grief and loneliness that he would face, he would be able to fend for himself. She had barely any friends who would truly miss her if she died. Fern had family. She connected with others. She had talented for many more things other than swimming. She had a true future that would have to be realized.
Upon coming to this conclusion, Erin felt as if her body had suddenly become lead. With her last bit of strength she walked over to her camp, and lay in her sleeping bag, knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep. This was it.
At camp in central park. Plans to commit suicide so Fern can live once they encounter each other.
All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them. -- Walt Disney
Epic post Elli! It's going to be hard to follow that up! One or two more post each maybe before the epic ending.
Fern Le Rose
It was over, all over. I buried my face in my hands, tasting Kyran's blood. It was so surreal. It was all over, just by one stab of one boys heart. I only wish I felt bad about killing him, but I didn't. He was annoying, not even skilled at all. I suppose I had been a bit heartless with him, but he had provoked me. Then he had gone and gave a last shout out to his girlfriend, who was no doubt crying in an ally somewhere. It hit me, like it shouldn't. Why did these people have to have families, loves. It would be so much easier to kill them without it. Still, it was over. Finally. I waited, waited, waited for the hovercraft to come. To hear it's comforting whirling, the signal that the nightmare was over. I lay in a pool of blood, mostly Kyran's, waiting. One hour down, two, three. It wasn't coming. Why wasn't it coming? felt dry, salty tears roll down my cheeks. It should be here, it should've been a long time ago. I killed the last person! It should be here. Something clicked, far back in my brain. Something I should have remembered. Erin. Erin, damn it! How dare she still live, let herself be killed by her friend? Why did she have to complicate my blood-lust brain, making everything so complicated? I gripped my knife, my fingers tightening around it. This was the knife I would have to use to kill my friend. This was the knife I would have to use to kill Erin. More tears began rolling down my face, tainting my mouth with the sour taste of failure and sadness. I closed my eyes, crying myself to sleep for the first time ever.
I saw the sun before I saw the sky. It peeked through the comforting walls of my eyelids, crawling up my back. Reality. I hadn't won yet. Yet. I had to win, didn't I? For the sake of my family and all the pain that I had put myself through. I had to. I couldn't let anything stop that, not anything. Even my former alliance. I...I... I opened my eyes. Had to stop thinking. It would get me in trouble sooner or later. I swallowed. There was no such thing as sooner or later anymore. It was the end. For real this time. I squinted down at my shirt, staring at the blood splotches on it. I had really done it then. Killed Kyran. I still felt kind of foggy on it, like it was just one to many drinks and a bad decision. I wish. It was somebodies life that I had taken, not some stupid Capitol cocktail shoved at me. That wasn't the end, but it might as well been. All these deaths were an end, an end to someones life. Someone who could've done some good in the world...not some battle trained career like me. I took a drink of my almost empty water bottle and relish the cool feel of it slide down my throat. If this was my last day alive, I hope it will be a good one. I look to the sky. It was beautiful blue, the exact opposite of my matted curls. Not even a cloud dotted thye sky. The tall buildings cast shadows all around me in their torn, sad way. A perfect graveyard for a bunch of kids. This place must have had a past, and a scared one by the looks of it. I was a reason, albeit a small one for a history of hurt. I sighed again. Sitting here wallowing in morbid thoughts wasn't going to get me any closer to home. Anyway, the way things were going, as soon as I saw Erin the career in me would just drop out and murder her without a second thought from me. I had to find her. To apologize for not leaving her earlier. It might have left this whole situation avoided. There was no time for what if's. There were just to many to even think about them all. I didn't want to find her, but I had to. I needed to go home. I just wish...I kind of just hope I can do it.
I crept along the trees, my head darting every which way. I felt dizzy and light-headed. It seemed to be getting hotter every moment. Maybe a way of getting Erin and I together, maybe just because they could. A hot summer battle between two friends- a duel to the death neither one want's to fight. I bet that's just what they were talking about, all over the Capitiol. Talking about Erin and I like we weren't real people with feelings and life's: just mere entertainment, easily disposed off. I shake my head, shaking away tears of pity and frustration. They were useless and suprisingly easy to manipulate, the Capitol people. Beyond help, like some spoiled todler. I shouldn't even be frustrated at them; it was like being frustrated with the rich kid down the street. You couldn't do a thing about them, but they were good for a few rare things. Excluding this, a thousand times over. How could people that acted like that make a game like this? Out of the corner of my eye I see what looks to be a shirt, the same color as mine. Another tribute! I frowned. No. Erin. She just lay on her back, staring at the sky. She had a peaceful expression on her sweet face, like she had her life all worked out. Odd for someone who was about to showdown on the final duel. I crept around another tree, my knuckles going white. I could easily just go up to her and stab her in the stomach. I could, I suppose, but I can't. I think I've done enough dirty work to last me forever. This time, there was no way I was going to kill like that. I step out of the trees, exposing myself.
"Erin?" I say, feeling my face flush. "I'm ready whenever you are."
She looks up, shocked. "Fern! I...you..." She jumped up, her knife still on the ground. What was she doing?
Erin met my gaze, but instead of being ice and stell like Kyran and Ara's had been it was gentle an sad. I felt my knees go weak. I needed just one last thing, just one last token. I rushed up to Erin and gave her a hug, like I had after she had killed Marco. She froze momentarily, but softened as soon as she noticed my knife was tucked away. We stayed there for what felt like eternatity until I pulled away as fast as I had came.
"Sorry. It's just...I had to."
She nodded. We jus looked at each other, neither one moving. My body felt like lead. I knew I could defend, but Icould never attack. My arm and knife dangled limp from my side and tears, always the tears, threatened to drown me. Erin was my friend, my ally. Someone who helped me through the games mentally, instead of physcially. Someone who had cared enough to leave me supplies when she'd left. Someone who didn't deserve to die, especially not at my hand. Yet she had to. There was no other options.
I have loved the words and I have hated them. I only hope I have made them right.
Erin wasn't ready for Fern; not now, not so soon. She had hoped that it would be a while -- a day or two at the most -- before she crossed passed with Fern, so she could have some time to think things over, enjoy the last beautiful, peaceful moments of her life. But maybe it was better this way; she would have less time to think about it, less time to chicken out. She could barely get out words, and when Fern hugged her, Erin didn't know what to think of it; it made her want to break down into tears and dash for the ocean. But she couldn't talk or move. Trying to hold back tears, Erin just stood there, gazing emptily at the ground, not able to look her friend in the eye.
It wasn't too late. They were both still alive. Maybe there was a way they could escape. But no, that was a stupid idea. The arenas were walled off. The security was tight, and besides; the whole country was watching. They would have to disable the cameras, which was impossible. Maybe...just maybe Fern had the same idea that Erin and would kill herself. She doubted it, but it was one last hope to cling to. Despite the fact that Erin knew that what she was doing was the right thing, she wasn't ready to die. She didn't want to die. She wanted to go back to District 4 and live, swim and cook and take up something like painting or music. Fall in love. Get married. Save up her money and go on a shopping spree. Become an aunt. There were many other things she wanted to do with her life, things that she knew weren't going to be possible, thinking of them would only make her feel worse.
"I'm sorry," she finally told Fern, "I'm sorry for leaving you." Erin's body was leaden as she wondered what the moment of death would be like. Would it hurt? What would happen afterward? Would her life flash before her eyes, like she heard at school? Would her soul live on in some kind of way, or would it be the end? Like falling asleep? Her body was numb as she waited for Fern to respond to her.
All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them. -- Walt Disney
"I'm sorry," Erin said, looking at me with sad eyes, "I'm sorry for leaving you."
Oh Erin. She shouldn't be sorry. I should have been the one to leave. If I had been just a little bit braver, to have been able to leave, just a tiny bit earlier.
"Erin," I sighed, "Please don't be sorry. That's this stupid game. Love, leave, and k-" the words fall from my lips as I realised my mistake. I cleared my throat, wishing I hadn't almost said it. "I should have left you first, honestly. Maybe things would've been different."
She shook her head vigorousy. "They wouldn't, I promise." She looked to the sky, "Nothing could've ever been different."
I stare at her for a moment, curiousity passing through me. It shouldn't suprise me that she was so morbid: but it did. I look to the sky with her. It was a brilliant baby blue, ironic for the end of one of our worlds.
"I love the sky." I whispered, "It's so deep, like you could get lost in it."
"I know," Erin sent a glance at me, before quickly looking back up. "I would often stare at the clouds and the sky back home. It's a beautiful way to just kinda loose yourself. If I could, I'd die looking at it."
She looked back down at the ground, realising her choice of words were probably the wrong ones. I could practically here the capitol's stunned silence, either of boredom or awe. Two friends should never make it to the end together, in the District people's eyes -even District One, suprise, suprise. In the Capitol it was the ultimate form of entertainment- my bets were on awe. I should do it. I should do it now. I looked back to Erin. I shouldn't. I can't. I won't until the Capitol forces me to. I want to just enjoy her, while I still can.
"Oh, Erin." I mutter before I can stop myself. "I'm sorry it had to come down to the two of us. I wish it hadn't. You're my friend, I promise. If we were from the same district, we could've been friends. I mean, we are friends but it would've been better. We would've been besties." I looked down, flustered. "Sorry. I'm a little out of it right now... We're about to end the world's deadliest game and it...doesn't feel as victorious as I thought it would be. It hurts. I'm so sorry."
I look at her. She seems deep in thought. My heart speeds up, feeling like it would burst out of my stomach. She looks into my eyes, tears welling up in them. Oh, why did I have to fight a friend? I needed something I didn't have, desperatley- time.
I have loved the words and I have hated them. I only hope I have made them right.
Erin could barely keep it together. Her eyes were red with tears and she was shaking profusely. She felt like any second she would dart off, running as fast as she could into the water and crying until she couldn't cry anymore. But Erin knew that she could not. She needed to remain strong, needed to go out on a good note, needed to show that she was not afraid. Erin needed to be remembered as the girl who selflessly gave her life for her best friend. She wanted this her brother. She had promised him that she wouldn't let him down; in a way, this would be better than letting her friend die and being perceived as selfish.
Erin tried as best as she could not to speak to Fern. She had nothing more to say, and besides, she didn't want to be softened by conversation and end up deciding that she wouldn't be able to do it after all. With each bit of strength that she had left, Erin inched her way over to her bag and got out her knife.
"What are you--" Fern started.
"I'm sorry, Fern," Erin said. "You're the one who has to go on."
"Er--"
"Please," Erin said, looking at her feet as she tried to inch away, toward the water. "Don't fight me." She noticed hand vigorously shaking and tightened her grip on the knife, so much that her hand flushed with red.
And Erin ran as fast as she could, she ran into the water so that she was ankle deep. She wanted to die where she was most at home, but Before she could raise the knife, Erin heard Fern calling out for her.
"Erin," she tried, her voice hoarse. "It doesn't--you don't have to do this."
Erin closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Yes, she did. Because despite how scared she was for the actual moment of death, despite the fact that she had a million more things she wanted to do with her life, Erin knew she was doing the right thing, that she could never live like she had lived before the games; without torment or trauma. And it was somewhat peaceful, it almost made her happy; Fern would live on, do all the great things she was destined to do. Her brother would be known as the one who mentored his brave younger sister.
And before Fern could say more, before Erin could think or hesitate any longer, she took the knife with both hands and plunged it to her stomach. Instantly, blood gushed from where the dagger had cut her skin and made her white shirt red. And Erin began to feel delirious. She only wondered what was going on in all of Panem right now, especially back home. This would be something that the history books would record forever.
Another hit. And everything was beginning to spin, so much so that Erin could not stand up; she collapsed backward into the water. Her senses of feeling and thought were becoming lessened, and all Erin could think of was how nice it would be to be finally at peace, to be with her mother and father.
Before Erin completely blacked out, she thought she heard Fern's scream, and the gentle, cool touch of her hand.
Erin Crane is dead. The Hunger Games are over; Fern is the winner -- I think you wanted to have up a wrap up post as you were being taken away by the helicopters, right?
All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them. -- Walt Disney
How touching!
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