𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗦𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 ᐅ 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙧

𝙎𝙄𝙓

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊰⌍
He was everything I
despised in a person.
⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⇲⊰⌏

Awaking with a strangled gasp, I clawed at the linen sheets with fervour, my chest heaving as I struggled to breathe. Sweat pooled at my brow and dripped languorously down my face, yet I was to wracked with terror to attempt wiping it off.

Every nights sleep so far had been a forceful task, often ending with my throat raw from my screams or heart unable to settle into a steady rhythm for what felt like an eternity. Each night I was transported back into the arena, the damp, moist roots of the trees wrapping around my ankles and pulling me into the floor.

And then there was always someone in the distance. Someone who'd run over with urgency warping their face and cut away the roots, pulling me to safety. And what would I do every single time? I'd drive my dagger right through their stomach, and watch as their faces turned pale.

Sometimes it was Caspian, Helia or Beryl, but other times it was more familiar faces such as Sage or Leila; two girls from home I missed with all of my heart. The most sickening was my family.

Last night it was Elio I killed.

My five year old brother who I hadn't seen since the Reaping. I missed his birthday while I was in the arena, but I drew a little cake into the soil, and hoped with everything I had that he saw it. I remember the moment exactly — Caspian and Helia's snores reverberating around the canopy while I was on night watch, the soft scraping of stick against soil and the tears spilling over my eyes at the words Happy Birthday.

I suddenly shot up, rushing into the bathroom just enough to catch my vomit in the toilet bowl. And for the first time since coming back from the arena, I allowed myself to cry. Burning tears cascaded down my cheek as my head hung over the toilet. It had been a week. When would these nightmares end? When would I stop flinching at every loud noise or stop growing tense at any physical contact I didn't initiate?

When would I stop dreaming about killing people I loved?

I dragged myself into the shower and let the warm soapy water mix with my tears until I couldn't figure out which was which. I never got a chance to mourn Helia, or Caspian, or my old life that I'd never get back. I couldn't figure out which was worse; plagued by nightmares and controlled by Snow, or invisible in District Five, working until my feet dragged and sleep overtook.

As soon as I stepped out of the shower, I put a halt to my crying. Moping and feeling sorry for myself wouldn't do me any good, especially when I was so busy — I needed to seem bright, happy, as though I hadn't been a participant in a glorified death game.

When I'd finish my hair and makeup, I looked the most put together I had in weeks. My brunette hair flowed to my shoulders, in soft, silky waves, and my deep brown eyes looked through dark lashes made prominent with some sort of stick with bristles on it. My soft features seemed sharp in this light — I looked dangerously beautiful. I looked powerful.

And since that's all Snow took away from me, I revelled in the fleeting importance it gave me.

When I left the confinement's of my room, I found Yvette and Finnick talking quietly in the kitchen. I rolled my eyes. Why was he always here? Finnick looked up quickly, his eyebrows raising a fraction before continuing his inaudible conversation.