Hi, it has been a while.

So I don't really know how to say this.

I want to continue but everything I was building to, I forget and I know most of you who submitted characters are far gone, I am beyond caring about the reviews, it is just it seems a little pointless if no one is even reading. I mean if people read and don't review then there is a purpose, but its been so long...

It is my fault. Because I've been doing so much lately and haven't had much time for writing at all, it upsets me. But my school's course cards (how we pick our classes for next year) came out and I picked the creative writing class. So yay for me I guess?

But that isn't why I left, it just helped, and even with what happened it is still my fault. I should've never got caught up in it and I never should have even let it get to me, but it did. Basically I have had issues with another person here on fanfiction, in the most stupid and dramatic way of putting it.

I don't want to sound like I'm some victim in all this though, because I'm not. Basically someone wasn't happy that I had another tribute win over their character.

Which by the way I disagree with, because yes reviewing and going beyond expectations for your character is great, but it is still MY decision okay? My story, my writing, my fanfiction account, and my story. Your characters, which I'm so grateful for. I mean I love getting to write for all these characters, because you guys are all so different from me and create characters that my mind would have never thought of.

But in the end this is the Hunger Games, what the heck did you expect other than for your character to die? I use the word "you" loosely because this is to everyone, even those who haven't submitted a character to one of my SYOTS. If you want your character to survive, write your own story.

I think anyone who has written a syot can understand that.

Yes so far every character to win has also won the poll I have near the end, but here is a bit of info- I still pick the Victor. I just thought both times the ones to win my poll I wanted to have win the story. Maybe you don't agree, too bad.

So basically with this event a lot of drama and silly stuff happened, which I should've ignored. That is my fault. Instead I kept it going along until it got worse, and I decided to make this person happy so basically changed who won my first SYOT (whose victor is in this story) I even wrote it in.

That is when I stopped writing.

I hated it so much I couldn't stand it, I just couldn't write another sentence. I should've of changed my mind and not continued talking about any Victors, instead I let it stop me from posting. And that might have been encourage by this person, but it was my fault and my doing. I'm sorry.

So I stopped posting.

Then because I'm an idiot I promised to this person to write an alternate ending where their character won as a separate one-shot. It was wrong of me to promise this, because I just couldn't write it. Maybe it is because this person, I thought, was someone I would be friends with if we knew each in real life and all. I guess I wanted it back to when we didn't hate each other, but it was far beyond that. How dramatic is that? I know, I'm a drama queen and I'm sorry for that too.

See maybe I disagree with this person but in the end, most of this I could've avoided.

I look at some of these characters and it makes me want to cry because I love them, I think they are brilliant. I want to write again.

But my current stories hold too many bad memories.

So I will start a new story, and if you had a character in this story or Every Man for Himself and you want to be in it, they automatically get in. But first I need to end this stupid drama once and for all. Because I've realized what I did wrong and now I want it over with.

Here is your alternate ending

Facing Rhett I see blood drip down from her cheek where she must have been cut. My fingers hold on so tightly to the knife that drips blood onto the floor, near the body of Cassie whose blood is also the one on the knife, that it feels like it becomes an extension of my own arm. Good, I will need that.

Her knotted hair falls into her eyes and in that moment she reaches up to push it away, I launch forward with my knife and manage to graze her neck. She might have managed to be quick enough to escape the deathblow but that doesn't mean she has escaped. In the attempt to move backwards away from my knife she falls backward onto the concrete ground. It goes in slow motion nearly freezing but soon the intensity is all back as things seem to speed up, I make a move again and she connects her foot with my chest pushing me back to the whole behind me. Getting up she gives a grunt as she tries to push the blade into my stomach but I expect her move and roll to the side and give a small kick to her legs to make her wobble a bit. She is fast.

But she is bruised, blood still seeping from her wound.

For once I am faster. My mind goes back to those long days of training. I begin to think of her as a training dummy. Not a real person. It is just easier to pretend she isn't spilling the very fluids she desperately needs to survive or that somewhere in District Eight she doesn't have a home and family that are begging for her to be faster than me.

But she isn't.

My knife manages to lodge itself into her chest and she falls backwards. Her eyes going so utterly blank, so fast that if it weren't for the real crimson colored blood the pours from where the knife is still lodged in her chest I might even believe she was just some training exercise. But this is no training exercise. This is it. This is what I have been training for. To throw my victory into Monica's annoying face and rub it in to everyone who ever doubted me.

Why doesn't it feel as great as I had imagined?

Why do I feel so empty?

"Ladies and Gentlemen I present to you the Victor of the 61st Hunger Games! Sedna Okpik from District Four." I tremble. The blood seeming to be covering every single inch of my skin it traps me like ropes bind me.

I won?

I watch as the Anthem plays and the faces of all the bodies lying besides me, excluding Peytro, flash on the screen. As each face shows, a fast forward version of their deaths plays through my head and sinks down into my very core.

They are all dead. I am the only one left.

I won

"Sedna please report to the outside of the building to be escorted back to the Capitol." A mechanical voice tells me. I freeze for a moment. Am I supposed to be excited?

I am alive at least. The mechanical message plays over again and I realize I need to get going. Walking up the stairs from the boiler room I see flashing lights directing me to the exit. They treat this like I have won some sort of prize or something. I mean I guess I have, I get to live, but they treat it as if twenty-three children didn't have to die for it.

Eventually I find myself at the exit, loosing my blood by the moment from my injuries. The Capitol will fix the wounds up; after all they wouldn't let their Victor die. They would never let their Cinderella Warrior die.

Cinderalla Warrior, what a dumb nickname. I use to love it, because it felt true to me. Now it just makes me hate everything.

Pushing the two doors open, I immediately feel the wind from my transport back to the Capitol. It hovers above in the skies. Walking step by step I focus on the ladder, trying to keep focus and not think of what I have witnessed.

I close my eyes as soon as my hands reaches the ladder, freezing into place I am lifted up. The sky and the clouds absorb me, and take me into their infinity.

I have won.

"So I guess I am going to be your mentor next year when you decide volunteer?" I ask somehow trying to find strength once again in my voice that I have somehow lost along the way. Even the old Sedna left back in the Arena seems to come back just for this moment. She has waited too long for this to pass on it. Every person I was and will be is here to witness this moment.

Monica turns around, her glare not strong, she knew she was wrong and I can't help but find joy in that. Yet still somehow, this is not all how I expected it.

"Whatever." She says. She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes, I remember why I despise her.

I stand up from the rock I was leaning on to face Monica. I'm shorter but I seem a whole head higher than her in this moment. "Your life will soon depend on mine to save your pathetic ass. If I were you I would start giving some respect." I say and Monica is left in shock.

"And I am the mayor's daughter."

"Yet still you will just be a bloodbath now won't you?"

"You aren't the only mentor." She says.

Giving a laugh I roll my eyes at her. It feels good to have a small flame back but it is simply a mask. Just a mask of my past, shining through in this moment.

"Whatever." I mock her with the phrase she seems to love.

I make my exit, leaving her in shock. I take pride and cherish having the last word in our encounter. I try to be joyful and give myself energy. It works a bit. But I know just as soon as it came it will disappear once again, leaving me yet again empty.

I volunteered to prove myself, well here I am.

Monica will still volunteer, so who even cares? I guess I stole her glory for now, in the end it was a stupid mistake. Who do I need to prove? Some idiot girl? I use to have fire in my soul that raged me forward, and helped me understand why. It gave me reason, everything was clear. Now I've gotten through war and to look back at the damage I wrecked upon it, suddenly I don't feel like a hero.

Like I have proved anything. It got lost in the Capitol. I am, in a way, no better than Monica. She might a bitch, with a shitty personality, but I'm the girl who wanted to prove herself so killed a bunch of people. I never needed to prove myself. It won't change their perspectives or Monica's. All I did was do exactly what they did.

I trained to make myself stronger than the competition, and then I killed a bunch of kids and became the Capitol's puppet.

What kind of warrior is that?