D1 . Sephora DeLuxe . FIN

Sephora sobbed, watching the Games on the television and seeing her brother lying on the ground, dying and begging for life. She watched the girl on the other end of the voicemail that Coach had accidentally left as he died, absolutely losing it, and Sephora did the same. Her sobs turned into shaking, hyperventilating and a full blown panic attack. She didn't know what to do.

Her mother put her arm around Sephora's shoulders, trying to calm her down. She used her words to try to reassure her, but to no avail. Sephora felt broken, more than ever before. She'd never experienced loss before, and certainly not like this. It was like her heart had been ripped from her chest and someone had stomped all over it. What was she supposed to do? Mourn for the rest of her life?

It's not like she had a choice.

Still sobbing and shaking, Sephora stood up from her seat and ran out the door of the house, not bothering to put on her shoes or grab anything on the way out. She walked, barefoot, for at least an hour, away from her house. She didn't want to be near that screen anymore. She just wanted to be alone. Still unable to calm herself down, she took out her feelings in a belted scream.

People probably thought someone was dying with how loud she screamed.

The thing is, he was already dead. Coach wasn't coming back. The darkness had taken over his light and put it out completely, and there's no return from death- not anymore. They'd done that twist once- kind of even twice, and they weren't going to be doing it again. She could almost guarantee that.

After letting out her scream, she finally started to calm down. Her body was still shaking, but she managed to mostly stop the tears, or at least stop them from streaming down her face so hard. She started to walk home, stepping in puddles as she walked. It had just rained earlier that day, and as she was walking, she stopped. She'd caught her reflection in a puddle.

Sephora caught features of herself in her reflection that reminded her of her brother. They both had unruly brown hair. Sometimes it looked okay, and other days it was all over the place. They had soft, pale skin. Her hands were rough like his, from years of career training, despite her young age. She started to tear up again. She didn't usually cry like this, but she had every reason to.

Coach would've done the same if it were her, she was sure.

Although, perhaps he would've found a different way to let out his anger and sadness than walking a several miles barefoot around the district. Her feet were killing her, and she was gaining callouses on the bottoms of them. He would've gone straight to the training center and practiced in case he was next. Maybe that's what she should do, too, she thought.

She took a detour on the way home, stopping by one of District One's training centers. Heading inside, she immediately went over to the sparring mats and waited for someone to spar her, and when they did, she delivered a kick right to their ribs with all of her strength. Her opponent fell over, but she wanted more. She ran over and kept punching them, but one of the trainers quickly restrained her and ordered her to leave.

Reluctantly, she left, making her way home. She didn't want to see her parents. She'd never gotten along with her father, and her mother was a bit difficult sometimes, too. Entering the front door, her father immediately started yelling, demanding Sephora tell them where she'd been. Their dog, Chanel, was barking like crazy, and Sephora yelled back at her father.

"You don't even care that he's gone!" she screamed, clenching her fists as blood dripped from her knuckles.

Her father didn't deny it. She wanted out of here. He didn't care. He didn't care! He didn't care that is own son was dead! What would he do if Sephora was next? Would Mom finally leave him? Would she finally start blaming him for the fact that Coach wanted to volunteer? Sure, he was reaped, but he wanted to volunteer, and he would have, Sephora was sure.

Maybe Sephora should volunteer.

That would show them.

Maybe then, her mother would finally realize what was going on. Maybe she'd finally leave her father.