Breaking Down Bridges ▸ Hunger Games

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Alia Fletson

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

Alia's POV

I'm a ghost of a girl

That I want to be most

I'm the shell of a girl

That I used to know well

—Christina Perri, "The Lonely"


Mortification. That's the only way I could describe how I felt when I realized what Cato had done. Losing your mind was one thing... but cannibalism, that's even worse. Maybe I was ignorant to think Cato was kidding when he suggested eating Cyra.

"I'm gonna try hunting again," I said finally, "I'll be back... at some point..." and took off towards the jungle, not waiting for a single response.

If I'm being completely honest, I wasn't really going hunting. Mostly, I just needed some time to think alone.

I slumped down on the moist ground against a canopy tree deep in the jungle and buried my face in my hands. There was no point in trying to stop the tears. Even if I tried, it wouldn't work; my emotions would get the better of me. So, I just let them slide down my face like rain would against a window. I found myself overwhelmed with sadness, with grief. My heart throbbed in agony, slowly splitting itself into tiny pieces one by one. Never in my life had I ever felt so hopeless... and that's coming from the girl who's watched her father tear her family apart. But I always had my mother to get me through everything. She was always there; no matter what. She can't be gone..... She just can't be! Frost must've made some fake recording to freak me out. Deep down, I knew I was denying the truth. But when you're so stricken with grief, sometimes you convince yourself otherwise. It's a natural instinct to protect ourselves. And that's exactly what I was doing. Protecting myself from the horrible truth. Telling myself everything was going to be all right. Like I had said to Cyra, "Everything's gonna work out fine in the end. It always does." But wasn't that just another lie, as well? Life isn't a fairy tale with happily ever afters. This is the real world. And I was stuck in my positive dream world. How could I go around and give everyone advice when I don't even believe it myself? What does that make me? A liar? All I wanted to do was spare those around me; spare myself. To protect everyone from pain. But I can't save the world. I'm not even sure if I can save myself. I'm a complete mess. I lost myself in sadness. It was just me, myself, and my misery. Frost had accomplished exactly what he set out to do. He hacked into my biggest fear and used it to shatter my world into a cluster of insignificant shards. President Frost, with a soul as cold as his name, had won once again.

"Are you happy, Frost?" I wanted to cry out so desperately, "You've torn me down to nothing." 

I couldn't be fixed. I'd never be whole again. I was completely alone with my thoughts, some still trying to shield myself from the truth, and others arguing against the sweet lies.

You're going to be fine, Alia. You're not gone.

No, Frost murdered her in one of his malevolent schemes.

Stop it! Can't you see she's suffering?

Denial won't help. If anything, it'll just make it all worse when reality kicks in.

Hopelessly, I slammed my whole body against the forest floor and curled up into a tight ball. I'd been so infected with sorrow and insanity that I began fighting with myself. Everything and everyone had become my enemy. The hope that I preached to everyone to hold onto was lost. Was there really nothing I could ever count on? I count on my mother, but she wasn't there to save me from my misery anymore. And, of course, there was Cato. We'd promised to each other that we'd always have each others' backs, no matter what. Did he even remember that? Was he too busy convincing himself that cannibalism was okay to think about what really matters? Could I even count on him anymore? Or had I become just another source of food to him? No matter how insane either one of us become, we always hung on to our love. Was that gone, too? Was everything that I cared about gone? Would I accept the truth or just deny it all to save myself from the hurt? Would I even attempt to fix myself... or would I convince myself that I was perfectly fine? Was I shattered beyond the point of repair? Had Frost took everything that I ever cared about away? He had stolen my world like he had done with many others before me. Cyra, Gale, anyone he hurt along the way. The thought of it all brought my mind back to District Two, of music. When I was young, my mother had taught me a song which she referred to as the 'Goodbye Lullaby.' I hadn't opened my mouth to sing in years, but with the situation, I cleared my mouth and began,