His mentor had warned him what to expect as soon as Nate was out of the hospital, he hated hospitals at least the ones in the capital. All he wanted was to go home, home where it was safe but the memory of his mentorâs words still haunted him. His Mentor had warned him, had bloody warned him as if that could get him ready for it.Â
"It won't hit you till you're home, Nathaniel, not until youâre safe back in seven."
The victory tour was a haze, it was a haze of fake smiles, sweet lies and people, people he didn't know, who looked to him eyes filled with disappointment. Â And Nate knew, oh he knew that the capital citizens at least had their hopes on the other tribute, the one he couldn't quite renumber. He was never meant to win these games, it was luck. But Nate smiled all the same. It didn't matter he would be home soon, everything was going to be alright he told himself.
The day when his feet finally touched district seven soil, his mentors words rung heavier in his mind then they usually did.
"It won't hit you till you're home, it won't hit you till you're home, it won't hit you till you're home, it won't hit you till you're home, it won't hit you till you're home."
It went on and on like a broken record, replaying in his mind, again and again, never letting up. Â But Nate ignored it, bushed it to the back of his mind and greeted his family's worrying looks with smiles of his own. He had won, he was home and he had lived, the games where nothing, nothing more than a fraction of the life he still had yet to live. It was pointless worrying on the words of one mentor, after all it was different for everyone, everyone experience these things differently and he was going to be alright, correction he was alright, just fine. He would be fine he told himself
But the words didn't leave him; they haunted him all through his walk into the town with his parents and other members of the district. They followed him while he smiled at their idle chatter filling him in on everything he missed, no one wanted to comment on how Nate, the young boy from seven was now a killer.
He had made it through the awkward dinner, everyone wanted to ask him how he was, but no one wanted to know the outcome, not even himself. So Nate just smiled along, sliding an awkward joke every so often, it make his mother relax ever so slightly at least. That's when it hit him, she hadn't expected him back, she had already said good bye to her little boy in her heart and now he was back, a monster from the capital. Nate excused himself from the table, his steps were slow, his heart beat heavy in his chest. he had to fight the urge to look back, to see if there was a shadow figure with a sadistic grin following him.
"First your legs will begin to shake, you will lose control of your limbs, and it will make you feel as if you're back in the games. Â Itâs going to make you sick my boy."
His legâs indeed felt week, they shook as he walked, Nate only just managed to get himself to the safety of his own room and close the door before he collapsed a mess on the floor. Everything, everything he had been trying to ignore since the last cannon fired came rushing to his mind at once, mixed with his mentors knowing warning. Why did Nate ignore it? Brush it off as if was nothing. He couldnât force his limbs to move, they just wouldnât, he felt sick, images of the girl from three that died right in front of him just at the end, she had seen him too, she might have killed him. Flashes of his own kills played in his mind, the blood running down the side of a faceless boyâŚthe bloodâŚthe blood that was on his hands. Nate only just managed to make it to a trash bin before he threw up everything he had eaten that day. The pleas for mercy, the cryâs, the noise of a knife piercing through flesh seemed to hum in his ears. Why wouldnât it leave him alone? He was free, he was meant to be free now. There was no escaping it. All the little things came back to him now, how he noticed on the second day of training that the girl from 12 had cute freckles, DEAD! That the older boy from ten had smiled at him and even helped him learn a few ticks, DEAD! That the boy from five only a year older than him and his sister who he had allied with at first, DEAD, DEAD! They were all dead, just DEAD, DEAD, DEAD. No one left, just him. He was the only one left, the victor, Victor of what? He had traded his soul for his life, what hope was there now for him? Â
 âYouâre going to cry kid.â
He sat there, body still trebling, none of this had happened while he was in the hospital, while he was on the victory tour but it all just hit him now, all the thoughts he managed to store in the back of his mind overcame him and it was like he was drowning in them. Unable to breath, curled up on the floor of his own darken room, his own personal hell. Maybe he had died? It might have been preferable to this. At first the tears came in broken soft, tears streaming down his face. No, no, no! Nate had never been one to cry, he was always the boy o shrugged it off and smiled. But he could, didnât matter how hard he tried. He just couldnât shrug off the death that followed him. All that blood was on his hands. Â
Suddenly he felt an urge to wash his hands. Nate pushed his body from the grown, forced it to move to the small bathroom, stumbling till he got tap the tap. The water first ran cold and the temperature just heated, Nate didnât care if the water burned his skin or not, he just had to get them clean. A soft knock on the door echoed through the room, till silence fell once more.
âNate? Nate Honey are you alright?â
His motherâs gentle words broke him out of his thoughts,  âY-yeah, yeah mum I..Iâm just tiredâŚPlease everythingâs fine.â He looked down at his own hands still red from a mixture of the temperature of the water and the scrubbing.  âPlease Iâm just tired, donât worry.â his voice broke into a plea, his throat hurt from the crying and his whole body felt weak.
âOkay honey, but only if youâre sure.â
Iâm not sure, I need you mum. I need you please. His mind wanted to scream, to call out and beg for his motherâs comfort but instead he bit back, His voice, although broke a bit while he spoke remained more or less even. âIâm sure Iâm fine.â He would be fine, he had to be. His family needed him to be the same boy from before, not this fractured boy who couldnât even control his own body.
âBut one thing kid, when this is all done and gone ad it will be. If you can look at yourself in the mirror you will be alright, thatâs what you have to think to yourself, that if you can look yourself in the eye, you will be okay.â
Nate blinked once, his eye lids heavy with weariness. Â He could do it, he could look at himself in the eyes and he would be alright. He was going to be fine, he had promised himself, promised his father before he left and Nate wasnât one to break promises. He opened his eyes and stared at his own reflection, not quite recognizing his own image I the mirror before him. It was almost like a haze of something had clouded his vision, and he couldnât see himself All he was the same smirk that seemed to be showing up more often in his dreams. It made his skin crawl, sent shiver down his spine and if he hadnât just thrown up he was sure he would have done so again now. Â He couldnât see himself, he couldnât look himself in the eye. It him then, sending him this knees once more, curling up into a ball, crying once more. He wasnât going to be okay, he might pretend to be but that didnât count for anything. He wouldnât be okay, not behind closed doors at least. Nathanial Kay, surrounded by family and friends yet not alright and completely and utterly alone.
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