The 200th Annual Hunger Games - The Ultimate Games

Reflections

Fern Steel POV

Filthy filthy filthy filthy.

I scrubbed at my arms in the shower, trying to rid myself of all the crap the stylists had put on my skin.

Filthy filthy filthy filthy.

I was filthy. I was still tainted by what had happened earlier this year in the games. Shane and Eve were dead, and it was my fault. I couldn't rid myself of these memories; they were etched into my brain. Unclean. No amount of soap could banish the smell of blood and guilt from my fingers.

I shivered and sunk to the bottom of the shower stall, wrapping my arms around my knees. Even though I was sitting under hot water, I'd never felt colder.

I'd seen what death looked like. And I'd give anything to unsee it.

Chase McKinney POV

Arwin and I sat in silence in the District 3 suite.

Despite it being the Ultimate Games, we still had to remain on the same floors we did for the Qualifying Round. That meant that some tributes, like Dianna from 5 and Misty from 11, had an entire floor to themselves, and that some, like District 7 or District 12, was accommodating 3 tributes. The unevenness all seemed a little silly to me, but part of me wished I was alone. Then again, human company wasn't too bad, and even though she was in a different alliance, it wasn't like Arwin was going to sudden turn around and stab me with the kitchen knife.

"You okay?" Arwin asked carefully.

No.

"Yeah," I replied.

I was tired. So tired. I just wanted to go back in time and reverse everything that had happened this year. I wanted it all to be over and I wanted Ramona back.

"Are you sure?" Arwin asked hesitantly, "You don't seem like it."

"I'm fine." I replied stiffly. Arwin looked up at me from beneath her eyelashes, adjusting slightly.

"It's okay if you're not, you know-"

"I said I'm fine," I interrupted her with a clipped tone. Arwin sighed deeply, tucking her feet up beneath her on the couch and staring at the ceiling. I bit my lip and turned away, staring at the wall. It was a soft grey colour. Everything around me was sleek and finished; it felt like a display home. I hated it.

"It's not your fault Ramona died."

My head jolted upwards and snapped over to Arwin. Her eyes bored into my skull, biting her lip nervously as if she were scared how I would react.

"Um," I stammered, "I-I know,"

"I don't think you do," Arwin said softly, "You need to stop blaming yourse-"

"If I had just stopped her!" I yelled suddenly, making Arwin jump, "If I had just not let her intercept the spear, she'd still be alive."

"And then Talia would be dead," Arwin reminded me. I buried my head in my hands.

"God, I fucking hate this." Arwin mumbled. I twisted my head and looked at her.

"What about Shane and Eve?"

Arwin let out a shuddery breath and shut her eyes.

"I know it's not really my fault," she said slowly, "But..."

"But what?" I prompted her. Arwin sighed and leaned back against the sofa.

"But I still feel guilty over their deaths," she whispered. She glanced over at me, pain in her eyes, "Is it normal to feel guilty about these sorts of things?"