Her Only Chance (UNEDITED, NEW ONE ON PROFILE)

Chapter Twenty Five

A/n: The past two weeks have been hectic for me. I have just gotten so many exams and assignments and am about to get many more within the next week. So updates will be much slower than already before.
          I had begun writing this chapter about a week ago and was planning to write the rest of it today when it would be exactly two weeks since the last time I had published a chapter. I was planning to do it in half an hour to an hour so I could work on my assignments more, but found myself writing the rest of it for five hours. :D :P.
          Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think of the story and how it's going, it would be great to hear what you think because lately I feel like I'm writing something for nothing. So please honestly tell me if you truely like it.
          Enjoy! TaylorLeFay

Chapter Twenty Five:

I've never had the time of when I have been in such incomprehensible shock. I mean, throughout the games I had been in such incredible shock after the events of Carter. But I had never felt shock as bad as I did when I sat there afterwards Carter had been taken away.

It was like I was in a bad nightmare.

One that never ended.

I faintly remember Logan and Jarvis bringing me up to the stands where our seats were. I remember ignoring all the stares I was getting. The looks of pity and sympathy in eyes was something I could not handle.

But I couldn't handle anything at that time either.

The fights continued after Carter's, but I didn't remember any of them. I could only remember that dark black walls, no light hitting them, looking exactly as I was feeling.

It felt as if some part of me was taken with Carter and that I couldn't do anything about it.

You would think that the pain would be so unbearable that you couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything, couldn't move because you were so fragile and that you would just shatter to pieces. But if anything, it's the opposite.

I was numb.

I couldn't feel anything.

I could faintly feel myself breathing, and faintly decipher what was going on around me. The fights, the others being taken away. But what was hardest about the whole thing was that no one made any sound. The only sound coming from the stained mats of death.

And it made me feel as if there was something seriously wrong with me.

It made me feel even more empty.

But despite being in a very incomprehensible state, I could not help but see Logan be filled with relief when the girl whom he had beat had won her own fight. Logan's arm was already currently around me and despite being numb I could still slightly feel it. And I noticed that it tightened considerately and he was going to be fine.

But I wasn't going to be.

The fights lasted for who knew how long. I couldn't tell you, even if it was ten years in the future, a day later, I couldn't say. I spent the whole time in the abyss of my own mind.

My own personal hell.

Through my own empty body of numbing pain, the only thing that rang through my silent mind was the what if's? It was like torture to myself.

For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been.'

John Greenleaf Whittier's quote couldn't help run through my mind. And I couldn't help but think he was right. The saddest truly was the it might have been, or even the what if's was what tortures a person to grief.