I go to my room and take a long shower. I wonder if I can live with what I've done. If my family is somehow alive, how can I face them? I start sobbing with my head under the running water. 

I know better than to let my emotions control me but this is my family. My little brother is only 10. I might never get to see him get his first girlfriend and freak her out until she dumps him. I might never see him graduate. Our father would never see that either. My mother, if she’s even alive, will go to bed alone every night. This is reality. I wait under the hot spray as sobs wrack my body. I cry until there's nothing left.

I get out of the shower and put on a lame t-shirt I find along with some comfy sweats. I lay down on the somewhat comfortable bed and indulge in my thoughts. I really hope my mom and Justin are alive but after tonight I no longer have hope for anything. I need to accept that I’m alone. I finally close my eyes and drift into oblivion.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

I swerve out of arm’s reach and then elbow my opponent hard in the face. This is street fighting on our lunch break. There are no rules here. His nose starts gushing blood and I hear a gasp or two from the crowd around us but I don’t care. 

Seeing my opportunity, I go in for the kill. I’ve kicked him back and now he’s under me, my hands around his throat. His sweat-slicked body is pinned beneath me and I can practically feel the pain he’s in radiating off him. I look over his bloodied face and when our eyes meet, he gasps as if he’s seen something beyond comprehension. Maybe he has. I have no emotion now, no fear. No weakness. This is how I am now. 

The second that blade went through my body, I changed. I may not have died but it was too close. When I woke up, my world had tilted on its axis and everything became clear. I was no longer content to have my life messed with so easily. The sweet little teenage girl was gone. 

I would be stronger. I would fight harder. I would never give in. I decide that since I’m in hell anyway, I might as well learn how to fight and win. I know I’ve gone over the edge and there is no way back. 

After wishing I had died, I realized that maybe I could use my new emotionally bankrupt persona to do something good. I know I can help the people who need it. I can help end this war. That’s the ultimate goal for me now. 

It’s what I think but it’s never what I say because in here, it’s all a game. To win this game I have to pretend I’m a sociopath like the rest of them, and so far, I’m pulling it off nicely. 

I’m H now. I’m alive now. Nothing else matters now. 

On top of him, I lift up, squeezing his neck tighter, and use my knee to dig into his solar plexus. His hand immediately flies to the side and taps the ground. Understanding the signal, I pop up and wipe the blood off my hands, ready for more. 

“Who’s next?” I yell to the crowd.  

I look down at my opponent. He’s still lying there. 

I offer him my hand to help him up but when he sees me coming he scrambles away. I laugh because I’m able to do this now, strike fear into men twice my size. 

I know they think I’m insane and I’m glad. I will survive like this. I’m going to be the best assassin this world has ever seen. It’s the only thing keeping me from crashing in on myself now and never crawling back out.   

When no one comes forward to fight me I scan the crowd and spot Bran, the cowardly stabber himself. Without warning I bolt towards him, determined to take him down. I pounce and with my knee over his throat, I use a maneuver he once used on me and hold his head still by grasping his hair. With my other hand, I pull out my knife. 

“What the fuck?” he shouts as he gasps for air with shallow breaths.

I dig my knee in deeper. I could kill him but I wasn’t a monster. One of us was, but it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t let him take that from me too. Besides, in social warfare there are worse things than death. 

“Make a truce with me or I’ll succeed where you failed with your knife, asshole!” I threaten. He pushes and he’s damn strong but I haven’t given up most of my sleep and any free time to train with Adam for nothing. Brute strength isn’t everything. I’m not budging. 

I spy Adam running through the crowd to get to us but I wave the knife hand out to him to tell him to pull back. I almost died because of this scum. I deserved this. I was doing it. I poise the knife over Bran’s face. 

“Fuck you, skank. You don’t have the balls,” he spits out. His blue eyes blaze and in their depths, I swear I see amusement. He’s enjoying this.  

“Wrong answer,” I say and slice cleanly over his eyebrow. Not too deep but enough to sting and scare the hell out of him. I smile as he cries out in pain and shock. I stare into his eyes, waiting, and I see when he notices the change in mine. 

I continue waiting, unblinking, until he finally opens his mouth. “Fine, princess. Truce. Now get the fuck off me.”

“Gladly,” I say and wink at him. I walk away, letting everyone know that I’m not afraid to turn my back on anyone, not even Bran. I’ve got this shit on lock. 

Adam follows me and stands against the doorway of my cabin. He stares at me for a while before he reaches out and takes my hand. “You did good, H. Just be careful. Okay?”

I nod. Adam has changed since my stabbing too. He wasn’t handling shit as well anymore. 

He’s been even more quiet, more distant, except when he has random outbursts of rage. He’s always been intimidating but now he’s bordering on unstable. He scared people as much as I did. He started taking a lot of walks on his own too. 

I didn’t blame him. I had to be strong enough for the both of us now