The Life of A Victor || Finnick Odair

CHAPTER 29

➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳

The cameras, the crew, even Delia, District Four's escort, would be at the Ogilvy's household by noon to prepare Dove for the Victor's Tour. The only good thing for her would be seeing Ohan again. Apart from Finnick, he was the only friend she had.

Dove looked outside her window, where the House Finches birdhouse once was. After returning from her games, not only couldn't she see her hair without screaming, but she also couldn't watch the flinches as she did before. Her nightmares got worse every day that passed.

The birdhouse had been changed to Angel's room in a desperate attempt from her family to stabilise Dove's mental health. It didn't work as they wanted to, as long as she didn't look at it, she would be fine. But her fears got to a point where she could no longer have anything red near. Not even the slightest dot of red was overlooked.

No one helped her move on, in fact, they merely helped her escape, which only got her condition worse. All around her house, there was no red decoration or object whatsoever. Everyone had either thrown them out, or gifted them to the poor people of the district.

But it wasn't only her house. Finnick, Mags, Muscida, even Ron, had done the same with every red thing they possessed. It had to stop. Dove decided weeks before the tour's arrival that she had to get over her fears.

However, by the time she decided to stop running, there was no way to subtly face it. All the red things were already gone, there were no mirrors in her house, and her sister's room, where the birdhouse was, was locked with a key.

Everyone else's house had the mirrors carefully and tightly covered. It didn't matter if Dove tried uncovering them, though. Whenever she visited someone, they didn't leave her alone for a second. She would be found out before she could uncover any mirror.

Her family's intentions were good, and she knew it, but the more the time passed, the more she felt like a bird trapped in a cage. She couldn't go anywhere during the day unless someone was accompanying her. There was not a single second in the past months in which she could be alone.

Luckily, Angel's room wasn't the only one with a lock. That morning, during breakfast, Dove waited patiently for her family to be distracted to sneak back to her room, closing the door with the key. She left the key on the door lock, so no one could use the spare one to open it.

Dove's fingers carefully undid the rope braid her sister tied for her every morning. It was the moment of truth. If she couldn't stand the sight of her hair now, she would be screwed during the tour.

Bit by bit, she got strands of her hair in front of her eyes. At first, everything seemed to be alright, there was no blood or voices in her head. But then, a drop of blood dripped from her hair and Alder's voice echoed in her head, accusing her of murdering him.

It wasn't real. She knew it wasn't. Her legs gave out, making her drop to the floor, which was flooding with blood. Covering her ears wasn't working to stop the voices. Yells resounded from outside her door, calling her name.

Dove knew she was probably screaming, which would have alerted her family. They had to be scared out of their minds, as they yelled and banged the door. There was no way to enter the room unless she opened them. And she would not do that, neither could she move to do it anyway.

The chirp of a bird directed her attention to the window. The bird looked like a mockingbird, but there was something off about it. The mockingbird approached her slowly, as if it were trying not to alarm her, and sang a few chords.

Dove recognised those chords. They were from the song she sang during Alder's death. 'Sing for me'. Alder's voice echoed in her head. This time the accusations dissipated, she could only hear his request.