Fear Games

1. Surviving the Game

CINDER

Dead. All around me, inside me. Dead was how I felt. There were no words to express the emptiness I felt inside me now that my mother—my poor, sweet, loving, caring mother was gone from this world. Some moments I felt okay, like everything would be alright. And then other moments I felt as though I was going to completely fall apart. Being the older sister for my two siblings, Kael and Echo, I realized just how much responsibility my mother carried on her shoulders. It was hard to carry a family. Not only had our father abandoned us, but now we were left without our Mom, too.

The funeral was nice and everything that mother would have wanted. When Rachel, whom my siblings and I were now living with, finished her eulogy, she stepped down from the platform on which she had stood and walked back over to the row where Kael, Echo, Emerald, Calix, and I were all sitting. Rachel sat in between Emerald and me, and she reached out and grabbed both of our hands, squeezing tight. There were no amount of words to describe the unbearable sadness I felt in my chest, stomach, and every other part of my body. Rachel was doing her best to care for us, but I knew it wasn't easy.

The preacher said a few more words, then before I even knew it, the funeral was over. As everyone in the church stood and we all made our way toward the door, I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around, staring at the closed coffin.

Rachel put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Cinder, it's time to go now."

"I want to see her," I said, surprising even myself. For the most part since my mother died, I had no desire to see the body. Neither had Kael or Echo. But in that moment, all I wanted to do was look at my mom's face one more time, even if she couldn't smile back at me like she used to.

"It'll just upset you," Rachel said, looking me straight in my eyes. "Remember that she isn't in there anymore. The mother you knew...she's gone now. All that is in that casket is a vessel that once held her soul."

I think she was trying to be comforting, but nothing she could say would make this better. I knew she was trying to be strong herself, considering she had just lost her best friend, too. I wanted to create a scene and rush over to the coffin to open it up, but I let out a sigh and wiped a single tear away from my cheek.

"Where do you think she is?" I asked.

"I am one hundred percent certain that wherever she is, she's still looking out for you," Rachel said, wrapping me into a tight hug. "Now, come on. It's time to go now."

"Can I have a private moment with her?" I asked. When I got a glare from Rachel, I added, "Don't worry, I won't open the coffin and traumatize myself. I just...want to say goodbye."

Rachel nodded and said, "Take as much time as you need. I'll be standing over here by the door."

"Can I come?" The little girlish voice belonged to my younger sister, Echo, who was just now a pre-teen in middle school. Her face was wet from all the tears she'd been crying.

"And me too?" Kael asked, who was holding Echo's hand.

I looked at Rachel and asked, "Well, can they?"

Rachel smiled softly. "Go on ahead. You know where to find me."

As she walked over toward the front door of the church, my two siblings and I walked down the aisle and up to the podium where Mom's coffin was sitting. It was a deep, chestnut color with silver edgings, which I knew Mom would have thought was beautiful. Instead of burying her in a cemetery, we were going to have her body turned into an amazing, gorgeous tree. Mom would have loved that, too.

I placed my hand on the coffin, which was only a temporary vessel for her body, and said, "Mom, we miss you so much. Echo, Kael, and I—well, we don't know how to do this without you." I choked a little bit on the last part, but continued. "We know just how much you loved us. You did everything you could to keep us safe from harm, from the Fear Games. But now...now your story is over. And it's time that we figure out who's behind this catastrophe once and for all." As I removed my hand, I looked at my siblings, who were both ugly crying.