The Mockingjay Died: The Fourth Quarter Quell

Author's Note

PSA to all my long-time followers:

Many of you started following me for my HG content. I loved that series. I still do. But I'm not obsessed. Unfortunately, I've grown out of it. Moved on. I will always be a part of the Hunger Games fandom, but I am a dormant member.

This announcement is mainly an apology. To all the people who have waited months for me to update my fanfictions. For those who have cried over the characters I left in a coma (What is wrong with me? I am actually Satan. I'm so sorry. I can't make this up.). For those of you who have messaged me, asking when an update would come, only to be ignored. I'm a terrible, worthless person, who should have admitted this years ago: an update will never come. I started things I can't finish. I'm so sorry.

You've all held out hope for months. I've gotten countless comments asking for updates, and every one has made me feel worse. Every one has dug my hole a little deeper. Every day, the thought of admitting my wrong has seemed worse and worse. I know you're all going to hate me. I know I deserve to be hated. It has been over a year since I gave any word on these fanfictions. You all deserve so much better than I've given you, and I'm so sorry.

For those of you who loved Panem High: I can't give you the rest of the story, though I know that's what you want. I know that Ry giving it up was not a reason for me to stop writing, but we really were working together, and when she left, I found I was completely lost, and the story was, too. I didn't know what to do, and for a while, I let the story sit, hoping she would come back so I wouldn't have to deal with it on my own. When I realized she wouldn't, it seemed like it was too late for me to announce I was stopping the story, but I didn't know what else to do. So I did the worst thing I could: nothing. I'm so sorry for that. I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused. I know this isn't enough, but I wrote an epilogue, and published it just a few minutes ago. I can't give you the rest of the story, but I can give you closure.

For those of you who love The Mockingjay Died, I don't know what to do. I love the idea of the story. I'd read a lot of interesting quarter quell stories, and a lot of stupid ones. I'm still proud of my idea, and I wish I could carry it out. However, all I had was a hazy idea. I had no plans for the actual game, and as I wrote the first few chapters, I began to realize that I had no idea how to write this kind of story. It was so complex, so huge, so impossible, to freshman me. I didn't know what to do, so I balked. I got as far as I could, then let it drop because I didn't know where to go from there. At this point, I know I won't be able to pick it up. I don't have time for it. I'm starting my senior year of high school this fall. I'm preparing for college. I'm struggling to keep up with the fanfics I've been diligent with, without adding another. The idea for this story is one I'm proud of, but it deserves a better person than me to write it. I can't give an epilogue for it. I didn't even get the tributes off the train. However, what I can do is open the story to you. I can't continue it, but if there's someone out there, among my readers, who loved the idea as much as I did, and wants to put in the effort to give this story so much more than I ever could or did, take it. It's yours. Just tell me you're going to try. I give up all rights to my idea, my characters. If you want them, they're yours. I can't write the story, because I don't have it in my head. But you? You're capable of anything. I believe in you. I believe you can do so much better than I did. If you want it, go for it.

Once again, I apologize. I have not handled this well. In fact, I've done terrible. I've left you all hanging for well over a year. I'm sorry that after all this time, the only thing I can give you is this, the fact that I can't continue. I understand if you hate me. I deserve it. What I've done to you all is horrible, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you all waiting. I'm sorry for not having the courage to admit I couldn't go on. I'm sorry for doing nothing about it all this time. I'm sorry for everything.