A/N: Wow I am just spamming out chapters right now.

Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 34 – The Van On the Doorstep

Macy Barker, District 7, Victor of 150th Annual Hunger Games

It's been so long since I've just sat in a tree. It's been three months since I came back from the Capitol, from the Games, and I haven't had the courage to get up here yet. The last time I did was before the Reaping. Before the Games. Before Echo. Before Shallow. Before any of this.

But the wind is just chilly, not the biting kind like the arena, the trees are green, not black, and birds that sing won't spontaneously decide to kill me because I've sat here for five minutes too many. It's one of the safest places I've been since before the Games. No one else around, just me and the trees. The squirrels chattering and the birds singing. It's peaceful. There's no threat of other tributes, all trying to murder me.

I cross my ankles, wishing I was up higher than I am. I figured I shouldn't risk it, with my prosthetic leg and all, but I've gotten used to it. Pandorina was right—it is high tech. It's like a slightly weaker, actual leg. It's just made of metal and makes me nervous to wear shorts. It's like having a very large scar across your face, except that scar is your entire leg.

Finally, I sigh and start climbing down from the tree. I can't help but think that the last time I was doing this, I was going to head in the opposite direction, toward our old house and the Reaping that would change my life.

My feet hit the ground with a slight jolt, and I immediately start walking through the forest, the dull sounds of axes beating on wood echoing through my ears.

"Hiya, Macy!" a lumberjack calls. Everyone knows my name. After all, I'm a Victor of the Hunger Games. People like to say hello to us. Well, not Larken so much. People seem to avoid him or ignore him altogether. I can't say I really blame them.

As I trek through the forest, I hear a shout of "TIMBER!" I look up to see a tree about to tip into my path, and I quickly start running to get out of harm's way. I dodge the tree as it comes crashing to the ground, rolling a few inches before a thick branch stops its movement. I exhale, looking at the tree and the gathering lumberjacks. That would have been my future, if it weren't for the Hunger Games. Cutting down tree after tree after tree. It sounds worlds better than my current reality.

I turn around and keep walking, trying to look as cheerful possible. I beam at a couple of passerby, who say hello in return. It seems to help the spirits of our district to see their latest Victor looking happy and content. And besides, it's easier to pretend to be happy than it is to really be happy, at least to me. I remember something I once read in a book that I used to think was absolutely ridiculous, "If they can't see your pain, they won't know it's there". And now, it really resonates with me.

I take a sharp turn and start up the winding path that leads to the Victors' Village. It heads through a forest that still remains relatively untouched, at least at the moment, and the walk is scenic. Still, I can't enjoy the aura very well. It's not like being up in the trees. That part of the woods is familiar to me. I practically spent my entire childhood in those trees. But I'd never seen the Victors' Village before I started living there. These words are strange and foreign, despite the fact that they look exactly the same as all the others.

The first sign I get that something is off is the black van with the Capitol seal on it that is sitting in front of my house. A Peacekeeper is sitting in the drivers seat, and we lock eyes as I pass. He looks away first.

Nervously glancing back at the van, I take out my key and start to unlock the door, only to realize that it's already unlocked. That's normal. Maybe Dad left and just forget to lock it. That's fine. Normal. Not odd.

"I'm home!" I call as I enter the foyer. No one answers. That's odd. I know that Mom and Daniella were here when I left not half an hour ago. Why would everyone have left.

I walk into the living room and nearly jump out of my skin. Sitting in my favorite armchair is none other than President Etta Snow. She smiles wickedly and says, "Miss Barker, I've been waiting. Please have a seat."

Blinking furiously as if this is just a mirage, I sit on the couch, barely even touching the cushions. Cutting right to the chases, I say, "Madame President, may I ask why you are here?"

"As I'm sure you know by now, Miss Barker," Etta says, looking me dead in the eyes. "Shallow Shamir and Echo Shamir appear to be interchangeable names to a pair of twins from this district. Shallow Shamir was reaped for 150th Hunger Games, but Echo Shamir swapped places with him and went into the Games instead. This, of course, is against the law. Shallow Shamir—the real one—was Avoxed a few months back."

"I know all of this," I say. "It doesn't explain to me why you are here and why my family isn't."

"Ah, so you have noticed," Etta says thoughtfully. "You aren't quite as idiotic as I pegged you to be."

"I just want to know what you've done with my family."

"Oh, I had then executed," Etta says offhandedly, as if she is discussing the weather forecast or her favorite dessert.

"Exe…executed?" I repeat slowly, disbelieving.

"Yes, as punishment," Etta explains. "after all the fighting you did for Shallow Shamir, and of course, withholding knowledge from the Capitol."

"What… what are you talking about?" I splutter, although I have a sneaking suspicion.

"You knew all along," Etta says simply. "You knew that Shallow Shamir wasn't Shallow Shamir, and you never told anyone. This would normally be a crime punishable by death, but seeing as you are a Victor, and a Capitol favorite, that cannot be done. So we did the next best thing, and had your family executed."

"I was gone for thirty minutes," I say. "How could you have rounded up my family and killed them in that time?"

"Well, the father and the brother have been dead for a few hours now, ever since they left this morning," Etta says nonchalantly. Her tone is so careless, so apathetic, so lazy, it makes me want to punch her square in the nose. "The mother and the sister are being executed as we speak, and the friend is being corralled now."

"Davis?" I stammer. "You're going to kill… Davis?"

"Davis March, yes," Etta says lazily. "The talkative one."

I feel numb. Completely and totally numb. How could the president have done something like this? My entire family, my best friend, all dead? Because… because of me?

And I thought I was guilty enough before all of this.

A/N: Whew, so that happened. Will this story be finished by tonight? Most likely yes. Will Macy ever be happy? Who knows? I'm just kidding, I do know the answer.

Anyways, has Macy's epilogue story been interesting so far?