I don't know why I still feel this pit in my stomach whenever I get a moment to think. I know what the pit is, too; I feel lonely. But I'm not alone, I keep telling myself.

You lie long enough and you start to get used to it.

Are you sure you want us to keep calling you 'Six'?" "You can say it's short for something." "For what? Sixty?

In the beginning we were a group of nine. Three are gone, dead. There are six of us left. They are hunting us, and they won't stop until they've killed us all. I am Number Four. I know that I am next.

There were hugs. There were words said by each of them. I don't remember what they were. Nothing haunts me more.

I'll come back to you," I say, "If it's the last thing I do, I'll come back to you.

I know what I'm capable of; I am a soldier now, a warrior. I am someone to fear, not hunt.