The End:

''So it's true? When all is said and done,
grief is the price we pay for love.''

It didn't take too long for Bree to recover from her injuries. A little patching here, some surgery there, a few stitches on the back of her head and she was all set to go. Sure, seeing the sight of random fluids traveling up the intravenous bag frightened her, but nothing was wrong.

Dehydration, depression, loss – that's what she went through. Nothing seemed real. Why should it have, though? She wished that everything was just a dream, that none of the things she faced ever happened. The loss of Kaster, Poet, Beckett, Ceres, Atlas and everyone else... it haunted her.

The beading sweat dripped from her forehead swiftly, overheating her body to the point where she believed that she had just awoken from a nightmare. Unfortunately, though, that nightmare was all too real.

''How you holding up?'' a familiar voice reached out to her. Dalan? Yeah, Dalan. Bree rose up from her uncomfortable position and immediately began to search for the appearance of her mentor. Everything was different. She knew it, and he knew it, too.

''I-I... I... I'm fi—'' she hesitated. ''—actually, no, I'm not fine. I'm suffering; I'm in pain; I'm in agony; I miss my friends; I—''

''Don't hold anything back. Let it all out, because I know what you're going through. You build connections in the Games and become attached, but when you lose the ones you love, it's devastating. Every Victor knows how you feel – trust me.''

''But... why?!''

''Don't ask questions that you already know the answer to,'' Dalan groaned sadly. ''Nobody wants this, but what can we do about it? I don't mean to be the pessimist here, but I'm not gonna sugarcoat the truth.''

''Start something new! Gather up past Victors and encourage District-folk to stand up to this cruel country that's being run by fruity-colored people who enjoy slaughter!''

''You wouldn't believe how many times we've thought of that, but how would that work? Half of these Victors aren't interested in an uprising, no matter how wrong they know these Games are. The Careers aren't the most enthusiastic, and the older ones are too focused on different tasks in life.''

''But—''

''You're also forgetting that the citizens of Panem don't all have the same courage that you do. Sure, there are a few out there who think the same way as you, but what about Districts One, Two, and Four? You think parents who raise their kids to be killers are gonna want to fight by your side? They probably hate you right now. What about the malnourished people in the outer Districts? The ones with no hope or courage?''

''I'll give them courage!''

''That's exactly how a previous Victor thought like. And now she's deceased, because she couldn't keep her mouth shut and they sent her back into the Games! Rebellions don't work.''

''Good for her! That's her problem, not mine!'' Bree shouted, surprising not only Dalan, but herself as well. ''...Look, I understand what you're saying. There have been many failed attempts at rebellions, but I don't want one.''

''What do you want, then?''

''I want change!'' she screamed, her motions filled with violence. ''Rebellions don't do anything for anyone. Haven't you fools realized that from past examples and learned to stop jumping to conclusions?! If another rebellion takes place, hundreds of thousands of people are going to lose their lives, innocents will be executed, and only more intolerance will be provided.''

Instinctively, Bree sat up and rested the back of her head against the backboard of her temporary bed. She winced at the sensitivity of her occipital region, but she had trust that her cuts and scrapes would be healed soon.

Dalan rose up to his feet, got Bree a glass cup of cold water, and handed it to the current Victor. ''I've always loved how you thought outside of the box. Rebellions are old, but how is it even possible to convince the Capitol to come to a peaceful conclusion with the Districts?''

Drinking down the entire cup, Bree sighed casually as she wiped the rest of the liquid from her bottom lip. Very sweet, very refreshing, she thought to herself.

''Things were different centuries ago,'' she proclaimed. ''It may be none of my business, but I have a theory as to why we're in this type of living standard in the first place. Before the Dark Days, back when there were multiple—''

''Before you even continue, I want you to know that the topic you're touching on is extremely classified, and being caught speaking of it will lead to an inevitable death.''

''That doesn't phase me,'' she spoke loudly, careless of the maybe-there Capitol reporters and agencies listening behind her closed door. ''Have them kill me. What would their people think if their latest Victor died shortly after her victory? They know what their technology is like; they can fix any sort of damage you come to face with. They're not stupid, they'll know that something's up. Don't you think that they're growing in suspicion as to why many of their own just die off without any sort of warning? It's getting old.''

Dalan chuckled a little. As he placed a warm hand on her shoulder, he closed his eyes. ''Remember when we had that little chat, and you told me that you weren't educated?''

Bree nodded.

''Well, for a girl with little knowledge, you're very bright,'' he encouraged. ''With you around, maybe we'll all stop living in false hopes and look forward to the future. Your ideas, though?''

''Documents, papers, meetings,'' she yawned. It had been nearly two weeks since she left her home District, and it's gotten to her. Bree definitely needed a rest.

''You really do restore my faith in society,'' he told her. ''But you need to rest. Go back to sleep, we can talk about this later, after everything that's planned for you.''

''Like?''

''Your interviews, your features, the ceremony awards, and the grand Capitol Party. You're gonna need your rest if you want to survive the week-long rituals. Hold off a bit more – it'll be a while before we go back home.''

With that, Bree slid down her bed's head and lied on her pillow soundlessly. Her eyelids descended upon her eyes like shutters, broadcasting her entrance into the world of dreams.

''Time for your interview, Ms. Andersson.'' Bree nodded her head as one of the Capitol interns announced her plans loudly, after which she turned and faced Dalan, Alexias, and the rest of her crew.

''No hesitation, remember that, darling,'' her head stylist mentioned. ''Your attitude is what they will be paying the most attention to out there, so be positive, be strong, be fierce, be—''

''Be prepared,'' Alexias advised. ''All of those listed before are important, but what you need to show them is that you're ready. Confidence is key, I'm sure you know that.''

Alexias was right. Even though Bree knew that her mental strength was extremely valuable at a time like this, she couldn't help but gaze at her mentor. ''Dalan?''

Dalan squinted his eyes, trying to think of something smart or crucial to say, but nothing came to mind except for, ''Be yourself. Whatever you feel is right, say it. If you feel that acting is the way to go, then just know that I'm supporting you no matter what.''

''Thank you.'' She got up and exited the room, being accompanied to her desired location by a group of four.

''Up this way, Ms. Andersson.'' They helped her ascend the steps, and she waited for Addison to finish rounding up the introductions.

''And now, without further ado, help me give a welcoming hand to introduce the Victor of the One Hundred Seventy-Sixth Annual Hunger Games: Bree Andersson!''

The audience cheered with an alarming amount of excitement that seemed to be enough to send the roof above crumbling down. As Bree stepped onto the stage with her clicking high-heels, no-one could help the gasps that left them.

In her dress, her Amazonian figure sat well on her wafer-thin body. Her waist was tapered and she had a burnished complexion. A pair of arched eyebrows looked down on sweeping eyelashes. Her delicate ears framed a button nose, and a set of dazzling, angel-white teeth gleamed as she blew gently on her carmine-red fingernails. It was a pleasure to see her flowing, sandy blonde hair. Her enticing – usually dull, emotionless, chilling, steel-gray eyes – gazed at her surroundings over her puffy, heart-shaped lips.

Taking another step forward, she plastered a smile on her face. Soon enough, she reached Addison and shook her hand, making sure that her smile never wavered.

''Bree, welcome! Please, sit down,'' Addison gestured to the cushioned seat next to her. Bree sat down kindly, never letting herself break a sweat, no matter how frustrated she was on the inside. ''Before we begin, though, let us all have a moment of silence to respect the fallen tributes of this year's Games.''

After an entire minute passed by, the audience raised their heads, and the official interview had begun.

''What's it like being a Victor? Has anything changed, do you feel any different?''

Bree tried her hardest to think of an answer that would please the audience, but nothing came to mind. ''Honestly, I'm not too sure. I haven't gotten time to see the reactions that I'll receive in a few hours, or know what my District thinks of me. It's definitely difficult, though, knowing that people I've grown close to are now deceased...''

''Mhm,'' Addison nodded. ''I understand. It must really hurt, doesn't it?''

''...Yeah, it—''

''Like, knowing that only if you were alert and aware of what was going on those days where two of your allies died, maybe things would have turned out different. Do you ever feel like it was your fault that they died and not you?''

''No— I mean, I think that—''

''You think the same results would have occurred if you were still 'there'? Is that what you're saying, Bree?''

''Not at all,'' Bree stopped, making sure that she took a deep breath. ''Things would have been different, definitely. I just don't know how exactly, but—''

Cutting her off, Addison brought up how Bree cursed out the Capitol near the end of her Games. ''Remember the hurtful words that you said? That left a bad impression on the Capitol, but you didn't mean them, did you?''

''No, of course I didn't,'' she lied. ''It was just the heat of the moment, and I was upset with my friends dying. You can understand that, can't you, Addison? If you were to see people you loved die right in front of you, would you not be upset?''

There was an acidic tone in Bree's voice that Addison tried to ignore, but the question was stinging with the need of an answer. Instead, she changed the topic and introduced the audience to the recaps of this year's Games.

Of course something like this would happen. Bree wasn't surprised, since this is part of the post-game traditions and has always been since the beginning. She slumped down on her chair, raised her hands up to her chin, and did her best not to let the tears slip free.

Ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the colossal structure. The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates, flanked by rows of skeletal trees crowned in crimson, swaying gently to the chilly autumn wind. At its threshold stood a delicate marble fountain with the soft gurgling of clear water that resonated a melodic tone in the surrounding silence.

''Holy crap, Bree,'' Cameron whispered, mesmerized by the beautiful, newly-acquired home for the Anderssons. ''You won this... for us... You're amazing, big sis.''

''Not as amazing as you think,'' she groaned, obviously disappointed with what she encountered.

''Don't moan and groan,'' Miles responded. ''You gotta stop sulking and get rid of that depressing attitude. Look up and realize what you've done for your family. You've given them a beautiful home that's big enough for over twenty people! Come on, Bree, stop it.''

Miles continued to nudge her until she finally looked up once more, only her eyes were puffy and red. She wasn't crying, or at least that's what she tried to tell herself, but the emotions were strong.

''I don't blame her for being in her feelings,'' Gunvor added in his two cents. ''The Capitol is full of a bunch of assholes. They're rewarding her for killing, Miles. I won't disagree and say that the house isn't beautiful and that she hasn't rightfully earned it, but after someone's just murdered and lived to see the next day, you can't push them by making it seem like what they did was a good thing.''

''That's true,'' Bree's older sister, Laura, said. With the light shining down directly on her frame, her beauty stood out even more. The soft winds gently blew against her blonde hair – a bit too much, as you could clearly see the annoyance for the air in her face. ''But she should accept what she's been handed. It sounds bad either way, but at least celebrate the relationship that you had with your friends.''

After that sentence, a small smile appeared on Bree's face. Maybe things weren't so bad after all; maybe things could get better; maybe the future had much more optimism in store for her. She was still young and bright – there are now so many things that she can do that were impossible for her just three weeks ago! Going to school is one thing – now her siblings, with her help, can finally reach the goals that they set out for themselves.

Unexpectedly, she made eye-contact with Evan's bright green irises. He shot her a genuine look of appreciation and satisfaction. Just as he was about to open up his mouth and say something, Alfie – Bree's younger brother – started to act up.

The mischievous twelve-year-old ran around in a circle and exited the gates of the home and, unaware of the Capitol's very presence watching over the family, screamed, ''SCREW THE CAPITOL! ALL THEIR PEACEKEEPERS ARE OVERWEIGHT AND BALDING LOSERS WHO NEVER GOT ANYTHING THEY WANTED IN THEIR LIVES SO THEY INFLICT PAIN ON OTHERS! I'LL BE THE BEST ONE IN PANEM'S HISTORY WHEN I TAKE THE ROLE AS PEACEKEEPER KING!''

Bree's eyes widened to an extreme, and with that one look on her face, her mother and father immediately begun to chase after Alfie.

''Stop it, Alfie!'' her mother persisted.

''ALFIE, GET OFF THE STREET AND GET BACK HERE!'' her father yelled, panting.

Alfie turned around, took off his shirt, and continued to sprint off while waving it in the air. A few fellow residents of the Victors' Village came outside and laughed as the boy continued to act foolishly. Miles, Laura, Gunvor, and Cameron also chased after him.

Bree sighed, completely exhausted with all that she's had to suffer through thus far. Even though she knew she should be much more active in telling her family about the rules that she was appointed, she couldn't help but actually laugh with her brother.

Quickly, Evan approached her and placed an arm on her shoulder. At the time of the Reaping, Bree and Evan were romantically involved with each other. Desperately, it seemed, Evan was trying to restitch that seemingly lost connection that the two had.

He never told anyone, but he was highly jealous of the boy from Eleven that she met – they just seemed so close to one another that even he felt threatened. Maybe it was wrong to be glad that the two only became best friends, but he knew how deeply it hurt her.

''I'm sorry,'' he said, placing his head on her shoulder.

''Sorry for what?''

''Sorry for everything that you went through. I can't understand how you're feeling, but I can see that it's killing you on the inside.''

''Evan, you know me better than that,'' Bree rolled her eyes, but in a playful manner. ''I can handle this, but there's something else on your mind.''

''W-What?''

''Come on, spill it. I'm just keeping it honest.''

''I—''

''You're gonna have to do more than just stand there and stutter, so say it,'' she smiled.

It took courage for him to bring up this topic, but he tried. ''Do you still... like me? I know while you were in there you probably didn't think much of me, seeing as you were with other people... but I still like you.''

Bree looked up at the orange, summer afternoon sky, letting a few thoughts swirl inside of her mind. ''I don't know, Evan, but you're wrong about me not thinking about you. I continuously thought of you and my family and everyone else because I was so curious as to how you all felt knowing that I wouldn't be the same Bree you knew before.''

''I appreciate your honesty,'' he nodded. ''But if it means anything, I hope you know that you're the same Bree I was in love with before... And the same Bree that I'm in love with now.''

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm. Despite the heaviness in her stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. She sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. His touch made the air warmer somehow, her future within this world seeming a little less despairing.

''You're the only person I know who gives indefinite hugs.'' Bree chuckled.

Evan snickered. ''Well, love, where else would I rather be?''

Adonis' death was vain. It was a massive unfortunate event for his family, and the only people that they could blame were Imperial and that retched girl Blush. He fought his heart out on Capitol soil, and what was it for? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Camille – Adonis' mother – was devastated when her son's body came back all mangled up and unrecognizable. She despised Imperial and ordered for a divorce case as soon as possible. Now in a long-lasting state of depression, she's considered suicide countless times. The only thing keeping her from ending it all is knowing that she still has a family. Aphrodite, on the other hand, is simply ashamed. She cursed herself for letting Blush just go up to the stage like that. She should've ran in and beat her to the ground, because surely, if both DiMae twins were in the Games together, they'd simply rule the Arena and one of them would the be Victor. Now working as a jeweler, she regrets every single thing that happened within the past couple of weeks. She always asks herself ''What if?'' all the time. Imperial, though, hasn't learned a damn thing from his actions. Still continuing to gamble with the money that he doesn't have, he remains losing excessively. It's only a matter of time before the people he shouldn't be trifling with become impatient and get theirs. If he doesn't have the money, then he must surely pay with something else... if you get what I mean. Without Adonis in District One, it's as if hundreds of people are lost. He had that much of an impact on the DiMae family legacy, but it all went to waste.

Blush was overall a disappointment to her family – even so, they still wanted her to live, and when she didn't, it destroyed them. Her father, despite his mature nature, completely broke down. Her mother... well, she wasn't as hurt by what happened. She constantly told Blush to get the flirting shit out of her head and be serious for once. When she saw Emil's sword go through her daughter's chest, she only shook her head. It's very common for the Belfleur family to get hate mail from the local children around the District. ''Your daughter's a slut!'' ''She deserved to die!'' ''She ruined Adonis' chance at a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity!'' ''I hope you feel the pain we all do!'' Her funeral was massive, though, with many visitors. Even Gari paid his dues – knowing him, though, he cracked a few disrespectful, dirty jokes that made the residents shake their heads. The businesses of her family continued, but it almost seemed as if a ghost was following both Darion and Amethyst. Was it sign that she was still in their presence?

Atlas was with Faye once again, and that's all that mattered. Throughout his development, his father always sensed that something bad was going to happen. He didn't want to make his thoughts present, but when he saw Atlas' throat get stabbed, he fell into hysterics. Atlas' mother hadn't spoke in six months since her son's death, and what's worse is that they've lost two children now. Only their youngest – Ace – remains. You'd think that having two dead siblings die from costly actions would make you stray away from death and want to succeed in something else, but he wanted to Volunteer for the Hunger Games when he turned eighteen so that he could bring honor to his forgotten brother's name. Despite not wanting his brother to go in, something else fueled inside of Ace and he began to train harshly and seriously. ''All gas, no breaks,'' as he would tell his parents. Veyron and Lily took the death of Atlas roughly. It was a shock, because he was so prepared. Veyron looked after Ace while his parents were battling their feelings, and although he persisted to tell Ace that it wasn't worth it, he didn't listen. Maybe in two years we'll see him fight to the death – and win, if he doesn't change his mind.

Sigrid's death put the entire District in shock. How could she die in the Bloodbath, especially after being claimed to place so high? Magnus seemed to take nothing personal of Sigrid's death. After seeing his daughter die, he nearly shrugged it off, but there was a shiver to him. Maybe – just maybe – he had cared for her all along and she didn't realize it. He surely wasn't going to show it now, though. Valencia and her children had a field day with how stupidly she had died. Faustina felt as though Sigrid dying was her fault. If only she showed her daughter the right way to live life. After all, it was her that showed Sigrid that people only used each other, and Clarice solidified that feeling inside her mind for good.

They never knew how Emil actually felt until the day of his death. Barbara and Isaac wished that they had made time for their son, wished that they had more time to connect with him on a deep and spiritual level. Like the old saying goes, ''You never know what you have until it's gone,'' and they really didn't know what they had in their own son. His hate for his family, his hate for people who had connections with one another, it was all a mystery to them. How foolish, to let your own son die hating you, and you can't even apologize now.

Cathodette was finally at peace. Her father had no-one else to abuse, so he didn't know what to do with himself. The alcohol was too much for him to handle one day, and in a drunken frenzy, he made his way to the kitchen, grabbed a knife from the drawer, placed it to his neck, and the rest was history.

Jefferson was afraid of what was going to happen to his son while watching him. When he realized that he became close to that Atlas boy, everything changed – Zeppelin's personality, his way of thinking, the way he acted. It was over before Jefferson could even tell Leslie. She never understood his desire to be in the Games, and she never understood how she was reacting when he died. His open casket burial was one of the most sacred in the District's history. Being a runner-up pick, going decently far yet being blindsided... it hurt everyone. Being Zeppelin's biggest fan, Jefferson repeated, ''And if my people fall, then surely I'll do the same,'' at his ceremony. Desolation comes upon those who don't expect it.

Bridget was horrified to hear that Clarice was her daughter and that her only goal was to let her mother and her siblings know exactly who she was and how she felt. If she could turn back the clock and prevent everything that happened from occurring, she would. Adriana was nauseated with the news, but what was she supposed to do? She could only fall silent while Milah had to explain everything. Sadly, though, they never got to expand upon their relationship. It didn't seem like it, but Clarice and Milah were more than just friends at heart.

The only way that Mathias could cope with Beckett's death was by spending all the money that he received from his pay checks, and this became much more of a consistent thing than it was before. Riese has had to take time off of work because she just couldn't get her son's death out of her mind. Sometimes Mathias' constant spending, that she once loved, became a problem and they began to fight much more often than not. Maqui let his parents be and minded his own business. Only problem with that was that things that he loved weren't an interest to him anymore. The sports that Beckett preferred he didn't play just didn't seem as fun. Life became... boring.

With Cassia, it seemed as if nothing had changed. Her father cared a lot, seeing as she was always Daddy's Little Princess, but with the rest of her family and friends? Well, who cares, they were all still rich!

On the morning of Poet's funeral, at least twenty-five percent of the District's population showed up. They all knew him to be the once loving and innocent boy who took care of his parents and siblings, the boy who always had a story and adventure to share when he was younger, the boy who was just too good for this twisted world. Bree arranged for everything, making sure that his body was brought back to the District and that his story was heard. He was given a slightly larger monument than the rest of the people buried in the cemetery. His picture was held up with that of his sister who committed suicide years ago. Despite the hardships that the family faced afterwards, Bree never let them down. Ellvin, Natty, Vito and Talita could all count on Bree to show up when times were getting rough. Vito was shaped largely by Poet's death and grew out of his snarky phase. Poet finally got his wish, but if only it was sooner. Talita, though, was hit terribly hard by Poet's death. All of the times she snapped on him and all of the times she told him that she wished he had died instead of Amalie flooded her mind. How cruel of her, she only realized. No matter how much she says to herself that she takes it back, it doesn't remove the fact that her wish for Poet's death was granted.

Everyone in the District felt disgusted with themselves when Mara spoke of Fidan and his life before the Games – she mentioned everything from his personality to his sex change, which only made the District folk feel even worse about his death. Nobody gave him a chance, especially because of his family's financial status, except for Parker. She always supported his identity, and even if some of the District people didn't like it and thought it was 'weird', she let him know even while he was beyond the grave. Parker, a boy who he's never spoken to, learned everything about Fidan all in one day. Although he didn't share the same feelings, it kinda hurt him knowing that someone who thought so kindly of him died and he never got to speak to them. Not once. Fidan's father, Aspen, was the same man he always was. Nothing changed, and he didn't even bother to attend the funeral. Work called, and he had to go; that was his excuse.

It was a mix of a good day and a bad day for both of Clarence's parents. Without their son, they could only take it out on each other. The items in his room were all that there was left to remind them of their little boy. He died hating both of them, but they couldn't be mad at him. The only people to point fingers at were themselves.

Loralei's parents didn't know how to react when their daughter died. It was a shock, but they accepted that she was gone. They couldn't keep looking in the past and mourning her every single day of their lives. Eventually they got over it, knowing that she died without any pain involved, but her little brother, Kurst, never understood why his older sister was never coming back.

Taisiya's family suffered with the loss of him, but Nikola never paid his death much attention. He was more frustrated with the fact that his one and only test subject was now dead, but his experiments needed to continue someway and somehow. At night, Nikola would go as far as to collect small, unnecessary things from his family members. One day he was caught, and, well...

Rhea's adopted parents knew, deep down inside, that their daughter had no chance of survival. Everyone who had a connection with her did, but that doesn't mean that they didn't have hope. They all did... but it was lost in the process.

Avery's mother never knew of his sick personality. She didn't even know who her son was anymore. Maybe it was a good thing, to have a monster like him out of this world for good. She snuggled tightly with Jesse, doing her best to remain stable despite the years of work that have destroyed her internally. Little did she know that Jesse was just as bad as Avery, if not worse. In a few years, he might be in the same position, but even much more deadly. He's seen the mistakes, and you can bet your ass that he won't make the same ones. As for the 'popular kids,' Emily and Adam were all relieved when Avery died, but Amber was still alive. Soon enough, the two were reported. It might have been a cruel punishment, but Capitol punishment in the Square was what the two received. Hanging, huh? Such a different death to receive for stabbing someone multiple times.

Vendetta's death was kept out of harm's reach. Nobody spoke of it, not even her parents. If they did, their family would be in serious trouble, and that would put them all at danger. Xavier was upset with their parents' decision not to have a proper burial for his sister, and he would always question them in public and such. After a few months of that continuous behavior, they finally told him about the family business. Xavier didn't know what to think and even attempted to run away at times, but eventually he was persisted by his parents to join the organization – the one thing that Vendetta didn't want. Things don't turn out how everyone wants them to, y'know?

Kaster was so close yet so far away. Everyone knew that he genuinely had a chance at Victory, even the most pessimistic people in the District. He was likeable, had a goal, and usually carried out with it. His leadership, which we only got a glimpse of, was not to be questioned. His death could be considered as a good thing. With it, both of his parents learned to stop fighting with each other and understand one another. They grew closer to each other. Eshlyn got to learn more about Reese and Isabelle as they visited more and more often, giving the family their condolences. Isabelle felt as though she lost her soul mate, while Reese knew he lost his best friend. Eshlyn reminded them so much of Kaster because she had picked up so many of his mannerisms; both good and bad. His actions never died with them. The three of them continued to terrorize Peacekeepers and make sure they heard it from the anonymous trio of District Eleven. Sometimes Eshlyn would take her time and let the other two go ahead first, just so she could say thanks to her big brother for all that he's taught her. She knows he'd be proud yet at the same time tell her, ''Don't do that, you know it's wrong.'' Thinking about him always made her sad, but whenever someone mentioned his name, you'd always hear, ''Yeah. That was my brother.''

District Eleven had never seen both of their tributes make the finale and lose in the same Games. They'd come close multiple times, but third and second? That was unheard of! Iris, Monroe and Aster had so much faith in Ceres winning, and they could feel it on their fingertips. One wrong move from her and it was over. The memories just kept replaying over and over again. They knew who she was fighting for and why; they knew who she was, from thin and thick; they knew that she could have asked for nothing more. They may have lost the most outstanding person in their family, but they know that she's no longer suffering. Elissa cried for days after her best friend died. She felt empty on the inside, but the kindness in her heart was never broken. At the paid service for both Kaster and Ceres – which Bree provided for – she made sure to drop off lots of flowers and show her love. Poppy never understood a thing. She didn't know much, but her innocence was what made Ceres' death the most heartbreaking. ''Where's big sister?'' she would casually moan from time-to-time, snapping out of a playful moment in just seconds. The family couldn't explain to a three-year-old that her older sister had died. They only hoped that in the mean time, when she grew old enough to understand what the Games were, that she would connect the pieces.

What was there to say about Ocelot? His parents no longer struggled as much as they used to, but his death attacked them from the inside out. They knew what he went through, and how they felt about him was wrong, but they never did a thing about it. For the bullies, they realized that all that they'd done was for nothing. For sure, Ocelot made it further than any of those kids ever would, and they knew that for a fact. They could even remember the last words he muttered to them: ''Everyone has an equal chance at victory.''

Ceres' family didn't have much hope in her, and neither did her friends. Granne kept it real with everyone, and after her death, Frank's sense of humor seemed to be lost. Harvey, Lily and Demeter appreciated that Ceres received a quick and merciful death. It wasn't dragged out, it didn't make them want to rip their heads off, it just made them sad. There are no perks to losing a loved one, even if you have to worry about one less stomach to feed. She was an innocent girl who didn't deserve the card dealt to her. They only hope that her soul is at peace, and that another tragedy like that never strikes their family ever again.

Following every single little detail, from her victory to the Capitol Party to her introduction to District Thirteen, Bree didn't know what she was planning to do. Honestly, where she found herself made her happy but frustrated at the same time.

As time passed by, she was recruited to an underground organization that was filled with tons of residents from Thirteen, but a certain trio wanted her most of all. Their ideas were very... suspicious and not what Bree wanted at all, but they continued to tell her what they expected from a Victor like her.

When she found out that they were planning on destroying a large amount of Capitol Skyline buildings, she wasn't for the idea at all. In fact, she disagreed and hated it, because thousands of people would die in the buildings and on the streets. The debris would be too much for the city, no matter how much technology they had to clear it.

''But think about it,'' Cedria, the only other female in the group, said, ''they've murdered thousands of people from your District and our own – actually, in all of the Districts! Don't you think that they deserve some sort of payback for the disgusting acts that they've committed?''

''Even you know that it's necessary to retaliate,'' Louis added. ''Come on.''

''I kinda agree with Bree,'' Araus chuckled nervously. ''Killing people just to prove a point doesn't solve anything. She just wants peace; I want peace; who doesn't want peace? This isn't the way to go.''

''But it'll show the Capitol that the Districts aren't a joke, and an uprising can begin!'' Louis tried.

Bree didn't agree with any of it, but she wasn't the same person she once was. She know went along with what others thought was best, even if her gut told her not to. Later on, though, she'd be back. She just didn't know when.

''Fine,'' she rolled her eyes.

''Are you sure?'' Araus asked, quite surprised by her reluctance to do what Louis and Cedria want. He'd never been that serious before in his life, but even Bree knew that this wasn't a joke to him.

''Yeah. Promise.'' She smiled at him gracefully, but he didn't return the gesture. Araus sensed something but he shot it away from his mind. Whatever Bree said was fine, and that's how it went.

''Alright. On the count of three, I'll push the device.''

''Three...''

''Two...''

''One...''

''Go.'' Bree ordered.

The explosions appeared to look like fireworks because of how beautiful the destruction was. How ironic, huh? The very things that she didn't want to happen happened, and destruction grew to be beautiful.

Things would never be the same as before, she knew that for a fact. But that doesn't mean that change couldn't be welcomed. It certainly was with her.

Secrets Inside.
Fin.

A/N: Ayeee! And that wraps up Secrets Inside. Sorry this took so long to complete, but school was in the way, but Spring Break's started so I finally got the chance to finish off this story. Honestly, I'm exhausted, but I hope that you all enjoyed it. The proofreading for this chapter was crappy, but I don't care. It's done and out of the way. Those of you who've been here for a while know that I despise writing recap chapters just as much as I despise Interviews and such. Despite all that, I hope that this story was a good read, even through all the shit that happened. Third person really isn't my preferred type of writing, as you can all see that I suck at it, but it's fitting for recapping a story, and I like trying it out every once in a while. A lot of things were skipped because I just didn't want to write any more than I had to, and I got to the main points of this story as best as I could. Hopefully everything was clear enough for you guys. And if you were wondering why some of the things you might have just learned about a few tributes were only introduced now, it's because I always had those planned for the end. I know that I should be saying so much more than I am now, but you guys know me, nothing has come to mind. I'll probably have a lot on my chest to say in a few hours or so, so I'll fill those in later.

Also, for those of you who don't know, I have a new SYOT named Set My Chains Free. It's on my profile and it follows the events of this story. You can go check that out and submit if you're interested, and I hope to see you guys over there, too. If not, that's fine, I'm good with whatever you guys decide to do. But yeah, not really much else to say. Final questions of this story?

How'd I do overall?

Was it worth the read, and why?

Lastly, thank you to everyone who submitted a tribute to me. I loved each and every single one that I received, and I'm thankful, really. This story couldn't have started or ended without any of you guys, so just know that you were all a huge part of this from beginning to end. For the last time in this story, I hope that you guys have a wonderful morning/night/afternoon/evening/ whatever the hell it is wherever the hell you are, and I'll see y'all later. Bye! ^-^