Thank you so much for reading this far! You've journeyed so far, and yet, we have so much further to go.

Apart from editing and rewriting things that didn't make sense or had been repeated, this chapter has been split in half. Since there were no initial comments, I don't have to worry about line-by-line editing. Hopefully errors are too a minimum. 

Comment and remember to vote! Tell me what you think so far!

Take care and be safe!~ CANGEL

PART II

***

District 14

3 Months later

Scarlet Wolfe

     Anger licked at her insides as Scarlet stalked toward the District town square. The winter snows still blanketed the ground, numbing her bare feet and squishing between her toes with each step. The air wasn't as biting as it had been during the harshest months of winter, but the lingering chill was still enough to cut through her damp clothing and pierce her skin.

     With every gust of the wind, her smoldering anger threatened to ignite once more. She could still feel the fear, thudding against her fingertips as she held Violet up against her bedroom wall by her stupidly thin neck, with her sharp, blackened claws.

     Her sister's cruel, sharp eyes brimmed with tears, wide with something Scarlet had only seen once before: Fear. Contrary to popular opinion, Scarlet didn't relish being feared—now right then, she craved it more than anything. As the barest amounts of blood trickled down across her hand, trailing down her sister's throat and staining her dress, Scarlet wanted her sister to regret.

     She wanted Violet to know, without a doubt, that the final thread of patience had snapped. The fragile tolerance once extended to her sister, despite her compulsive need to destroy everything that Scarlet held dear had finally gone too far.

     She had long since stopped caring about Violet or her pathetic life, content to mollify her older sister with money to do with what she wished. Her sister had everything that a girl from a destitute family could have, yet she could never seem to stop wanting the things that other people had.

     If you ever even think about putting your hands on mine or Cadmium's belongings ever again, I will kill you, Violet Wolfe. Just. Like. I. Killed. Crimson.

     Scarlet hadn't waited for a reply, just turned away as her sister fell to the ground, trying to keep her reaction to the words coming from her mouth off her face. Bragging about killing your own brother? Oh, Scarlet, you've reached a new low.

     Eager to escape Violet's room, she had grabbed her money off the quality fur blankets and quilts that covered the new bed and thick mattress, situated against the far wall, and left the room, ignoring the fresh tear tracks on her sister's face.

     She wished that she had agreed to Cadmium's request to stay late in the old, abandoned basement where she could cling to the illusions of the past. Instead, she had chosen to return home with him, wanting to see him warmed by the fire and fed a full meal. It was the only good thing that had come from her winning the Hunger Games and she'd be damned if he be the one to suffer when the rest of her family thrived.

     It was on their way home that her anger had first been ignited.

     One of Violet's friends had emptied the laundry bucket from their front door. The water had doused her clothes and hit Scarlet's skin like frozen ice shards. Cold as the river had been in the Arena, the icy water froze her lungs, refusing her air, and sent her spiraling into memories best left forgotten. Her blood had pounded in her ears her vision blurred, narrowing in on the threat wanting to hurt her. Survive. Fight. Kill.

     She hadn't thought—she simply reacted. Viciously, her sharpened claws dug deep into the girl's face, slicing through her skin like butter, leaving a stream of blood and a glimmer of satisfaction. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Stop! Please. Her soundless pleas had had no affect—she had to eliminate the threat. She had too.

     Scarlet was sure that the only reason she hadn't killed the girl was because Cadmium had pulled her away and not because of any pleas from the girl's mouth. He had shoved her down the street with a strength he hadn't had before the Games, urging her to run and reminding her of the punishment that awaited them both if they were caught. Her status as a Victor would do little to protect her and nothing to protect Cadmium.

     His burning hand on her wrist was a reminder that while in the Arena, it had been her own survival that had kept her moving forward each day, but here, in District 14, it was Cadmium. He was the one person left worth protecting, the one thing the Capitol hadn't managed to take from her.

     The entire way home, Scarlet's heart had pounded with the desperate need to fight. To protect herself. To stay alive. To kill. She had almost killed someone. Just to feel safe.

     What is wrong with me?

     It had been that thought that had cooled her temper and bridled her rage as she realized just how big of a reaction she'd had. Uncontrollable rage. The yearning for death. In the Arena, she'd had to kill. But if she killed here, in District 14? Murderer.

     She didn't want to be the monster that the Capitol had painted her as. She wasn't the Wicked Wolfe. Not really.

     But when they had finally returned home to change, she'd found Cadmium and her room completely destroyed. Their carved crystals had been destroyed, shattered—with what? A hammer? They were in bits and pieces, scattered about the floor. Their shoes were gone. Their clothes were ripped. The window was broken. Stuffing from the pillows and the mattress were strewn about the room. The single blanket that they had to share were torn apart and the scraps littered across the ground. Everything had been completely destroyed.

     That anger and unchecked rage had returned, and this time it had been directed toward Violet.

     Knowing that it wouldn't be long before Violet went running to her mother, and Scarlet suffered the biased wrath of one or both of her parents, she had left the house in nothing more than her damp clothing and bare feet, curtesy of her bitch of a sister. Her boots were now charred remains in the fireplace that Violet had tossed them into and her coat, much like everything else that she owned, sat in ruins along the floor of her bedroom.

     A heavy weight settled over her shoulders, blocking the wind. Startled, Scarlet glanced at her side. Cadmium. She gave him a small smile as he kept pace with her, panting from the effort it had taken to catch up with her. She looked at what he'd put over her, pinching the thick fabric between her fingers before raising a brow at her brother.

     "Violet's."

     Her lip curled in a sneer; her body shook with revulsion. She didn't want anything that belonged to Violet. Only Cadmium's hand on her shoulder kept her from tossing the coat into the snow at her feet.

     "You know she'd hate you wearing it even more than you do." He tried to reason with her, his hazel eyes imploring her to just wear the coat and choose warmth over pride.

     "You never used to talk back to me." She muttered as she turned forward, keeping the coat on over her shoulders. Just another thing that had changed. She sighed. He was right though; this coat was warm, and it was the least of what Violet owed her. That Violet would hate the idea of Scarlet wearing it was only an added bonus.

     Even though Scarlet didn't hate helping her family, or watching her siblings—well, most of them—rise from poverty into a comfortable life, coming back to District 14 hadn't been as easy as she thought it would be.

     Naively, she'd thought that the hardest thing about coming back to her District would be adjusting to life without Crimson. And though that was a constant ache, with every thought or action reminding her that he was gone—and why he was gone, it wasn't what kept her hidden in the abandoned basement most days, or what sent her into bouts of uncontrolled rage.

     It was everybody that was still here in District 14, that was the problem. From the moment she had stepped foot on District 14's train station disembarking dock, she had seen the way that they had all looked at her.

     She had seen the fear. Distrust. Anger and resentment.

     They believed what they saw standing before them. A monster.

     The Wicked Wolfe.

     The girl who had taunted and teased her way into the Arena and treated the Hunger Games like it had been nothing more than a fun excursion away from home. The girl who had brutally and viciously beheaded her twin brother, laughing afterwards.

     Scarlet had been ostracized. In her own District. In her own home. Within her own family. She was scorned, avoided, or feared.

     Everyone but Cadmium.

     Before the Hunger Games, people had mostly been oblivious to her existence, one poor slaughter-child was not grounds for notice, and those that did, hadn't liked her. Now that everyone knew her, there was an open hostility in their eyes that followed wherever she went.

    That hostility had extended to her parents and her siblings, and though she had half expected it from most of them, figuring that they would have preferred Crimson to come home over her, what had affected her the most, was Honey's newfound fear.

     Before the Games, Honey had often faded into the background, clinging to their other siblings. It wasn't until she was no longer around that Scarlet had realized the comfort she had derived from her little sister's presence. But now, in the absence of that innocence and joy, she realized how much comfort she had unknowingly drawn from Honey's presence.

     The time they had spent together in the past seemed to have been overridden the moment she'd come home. Hands that would grab hers in search of comfort now shook when she got within five feet of Scarlet. Eyes that had begged for attention were now downcast and words that never ceased were now whispered.

     Another sigh left her, her feet slipping in the snow. The pins and needles had faded to numbness now, forcing her to slow to a more careful pace in order to keep her balance. Scarlet passed fur processing shops and fabric stores with no clear destination in mind. She needed clothes and new shoes, that she knew for sure, but had no clear store in mind.

     The wealth of District 14 was not in question—there was none to be had—but there were times when the Capitol's fads favored them, craving their unique resources and services: Furs, pelts, and crystal carvings. And the cycles of attention brought with it more shops than needed in District 14—with their District being out of favor for more than a decade by now, most of them sat empty, with fabrics left untouched for years, only to be sold off at a lower quality when the demand from the Capitol never came.

     Few people ever bought tailor-made clothing here in District 14. The mayor and his family, perhaps, and a few of the Peacekeepers or other higher Officials of the District. But most people that bought clothes, bought the fabric and stitched them together at home.

     Families like Scarlet's, that had barely enough to survive on, and only on the back of the children they were willing to sacrifice, only bought new clothing for the eldest boy and girl—until they grew big enough to wear the parents' old clothing. The younger children wore hand-me-downs that were patched or stitched or rehemmed.

     Ironically though, the reason for her District resented her—her victory—was also sparking a shift in District 14's popularity and Capitol demand for its goods. It had been a negligible change at first, but even now, only three months later, there were small changes, becoming more and more noticeable.

     Bit by bit, as coins exchanged hands like oil in a rusty gear, District 14's economy began to creak back to life.

     With some shops selling more products to the Capitol, they were able to go out and buy small luxuries beyond the basic means of survival. Every day, a few more of the shop owners had a bit more money to survive on. Scarlet's own family, nearly drowning in the wealth that her victory had brought them, spent as much as they liked on whatever they liked, earning the favor of the most popular town shops, but also igniting their greed.

     They should be grateful. Scarlet thought bitterly. But they weren't and likely never would be.

     Like starving animals scenting fresh prey, all the shop owners she had met had been filled with desperate greed, eager to get their hands on as much money as possible. For other families, and even the rest of the Wolfe family, they were treated with civility, even as they were bled for every spare coin. But not Scarlet. To her, they barely bothered with politeness, as if doing business with her at all was an effort and accepting her money was all they could accept from her.

     Cadmium tugged on her arm, pulling her to a stop. She glanced over at him. His face was red from the wind. She'd bet hers was too.

     "Let's go in here." He said, nodding to the door next to them. "It'll be warmer than standing out here and they sell fabrics for clothes."

     Scarlet turned slightly, her lips tugging downward at the sight of the run-down shack of a shop, before looking at Cadmium. This? The place looked like it was about to collapse. "Is this even a clothing store?"

     Cadmium nodded, ignoring her skepticism. "I go to school with the daughter of the family who owns this place."

     Scarlet raised a brow at her brother wondering if this was even about clothing anymore for him. He'd never mentioned any girls before—but she'd chalked that up to a general disinterest. Was that starting to change? "A girl, huh?"

     Cadmium rolled his eyes letting out an annoyed sigh. "I don't like her like that, Scar."

     "Anyone you do like?" She asked distractedly, trying to peek inside through the stores, but finding no such luck. The frost was too thick to see much more than darkness and shadows.

     He pulled at her shoulder, drawing her attention. "Her brother was reaped a few years ago. They get it."

     Scarlet's mood darkened at the mention of the reaping. All humor vanished as her lips turned downward in a frown. Losing a child to the Hunger Games in a normal year was nothing like what had happened this year. She didn't like that he was drawing connections between their families or how attached he seemed to them. It made her determined to dislike them even more before meeting them.

     Even still, she was tired, freezing, and the wind bit into her clothing now that the temperatures were dropping lower with the setting sun. 

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Hi Everyone!

So, pretty easy chapter to read, though hopefully emotionally packed and insightful into the family dynamics and Scarlet's reception back in District 14. 

Personally, I think that a lot of people believe that Scarlet chose to have the modifications done to her body (which Scarlet does not correct or deny), which kind of signifies to them that she is glorifying the Hunger Games. That she is proud of everything she did and enjoyed it. Including killing her own twin brother.

That image is why people react so harshly to her in District 14. And Scarlet doesn't let people in easily. She'd much rather be hated than show any sort of vulnerability and admit she has no control or choice.

Let me know if you have different thoughts or opinions! 

Kindly, take the time to vote, and remember if you comment, i will always try to respond!

Take care and stay safe! ~CANGEL