The Ultimate Sacrifice (The 107th Hunger Games) [Fan Fiction]

Epilogue

Epilogue

Bane looked peaceful in death.

His eyes were closed; his body sprawled out as if he had fallen from complete exhaustion. It was probably how he met his doom. He had been tired out too much, he had barely any strength left to carry on. And here I thought that Bane would go all the way.

I always thought that if I didn't win the Hunger Games, the next best person who had the best odds to do it was Bane. If I put Shane into that equation, I'd want to say Shane had the better odds.

Shane. I looked up from Bane's corpse. Where was the boy from 12, anyway? Was he crawling away, trying to find something to rest against? Was he searching for me at this very minute, like I was doing for him?

I didn't linger long near Bane's body, I continued on my quest to find the boy I loved.

You were quite the competition, Bane. A lot of people won't forget you. I certainly wouldn't forget him. How could I forget a boy who chased after me for so long? I felt sort of bad now, telling him that I didn't want a relationship with him yet here in the arena, I was with Shane. I was such a hypocrite, I made myself sick.

Even though I didn't really like Bane, he had been one hell of a fighter. His determination to win the Games had carried him far, just like my determination had. Accepting Bane's death made me think about Regina, his prep team, Sienna, and Ross. My heart went out to all that was left of his family—his mother. I bet Sienna was in a room, alone, crying her eyes out. "Shane?" I called weakly. I felt like I had been hobbling in one direction. My legs felt like jelly, ready to buckle under me. My stomach growled, my throat was as dry as a desert. I was in the worst shape I had ever been during these Games. But I had made it this far. For that, I was proud of myself.

I knew Dad would be cheering for me back at home, Mom a nervous wreck as she'd watch the TV. I bet all of District 1 was in a hype, knowing that I was still alive—somewhat. "Crys?" a distant voice rang. My spirits perked up. Was that really him, or was I simply dreaming up his voice to convince myself that he was near? Please be here. Please be close, I prayed. "Crys!"

"Shane?" I shouted back in the strongest voice I could muster.

Through the thicker area of trees, I saw Shane emerge. I laughed tiredly, nearly bursting into tears just seeing him. His face was blotched with bruises; he had a black eye forming. He had somewhat of a limp, nowhere near as bad as mine though. He looked in much better shape than me. In his hand was his bow, an empty pack still over his shoulder.

His gray eyes lit up at the sight of me. I trotted as quickly as I could while Shane sprinted to me. He grabbed me, lifting me into the air. He laughed, setting me down gently, holding me against him. I burrowed my head into his chest, trembling with joy.

"I thought it was you," he groaned. "I thought it had been you..."

"He didn't make it," I squeaked, looking up at him. He brushed away stray tears from my face. "We did it." I grabbed his face, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. He smiled against my lips, making me mirror him. We looked deep into each other's eyes, grinning.

Shane's happiness slowly faded into something different, and something scary. I saw realization in his eyes.

"What?" I whispered, searching his eyes for an answer.

"We're the only two left," he murmured distantly.

My hands fell to my sides; I stepped out of his arms. The cold truth shook me. He was right, only one could be a victor for the Games.