The Life of A Victor || Finnick Odair

CHAPTER 31

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District Twelve, the poorest district of all Panem, was also the home of Alder Caldwell, Dove's ally, friend, and supposed lover. As the train stopped at the station, a crowd received them. Everything was covered in pure white snow, but the people didn't seem prepared for the cold.

Barely anyone had even a jacket on, and the ones who did were either the rich ones, or the ones with old and patched up jackets. Dove could recognise the poor from the rich at first sight. It wasn't too difficult. Although it wasn't an attribute she wanted.

The poor people didn't show any emotions in their eyes. No happiness, fear, or sorrow. Not even hope. They had lost all hope. On what? Dove thought. Did they lose hope of having a victor? On anyone surviving the games? She continued to wonder.

However, there was something she hadn't seen. Indeed, District Twelve's people had lost many emotions, but there were some that had spread around rapidly since her victory. Respect, admiration, and determination. All of them were present in them.

They respected Dove as the new Victor. They admired her for not stepping down to the games' level by killing people mercilessly. She had given a decent death to her allies, and those who weren't. She had been benevolent enough to end their tribute's painful death by giving him the berries, making him die peacefully.

Alder wasn't exactly from the Seam, the poorest side of District Twelve, but he wasn't from the richest side either. He was a kind boy that helped people in need whenever he could. His death hurt almost everyone in the district.

They wanted to show Dove their respect. They wanted to convey their thanks for the beautiful funeral she had given him during the Games, before his body got to the family. What they had planned could be condemned as rebellion, but they didn't care at the moment.

District Twelve's town square was filled with people, from the youngest to the oldest. Everyone cheered as Dove stepped onto the platform, who wasn't sure if the cheers she received were being obligated by the Peacekeepers or if the people truly liked her.

The first thing she saw as she took her place was the platform specially made for the tributes' families. Dove stared at Alder's family. A father alone with two children, who wouldn't be older than seven, and another person who looked past twenty.

Dove wanted to get her eyes off them, at least to acknowledge the girl's family, but she couldn't. Her eyes were stuck like glue to the two little children, crying their eyes out as their older sibling tried to calm them down.

She had taken Alder from them. If only could she walk up to them and apologise. She would ask for forgiveness a million times, and it would still not be enough. Nothing she did would bring Alder back from the dead.

Dove's eyes landed on the father, his expression spoke by itself. He was still digesting his own child's death. But it wasn't only that. His eyes, although they reflected his sorrow, showed pity. He was pitying the girl who had fallen in love with his son, only to end up being forced to kill him.

Please, not pity. Be angry! Hate me! I killed your son! Dove wanted to shout. Tell him and his family to never forgive her. It didn't matter how many times she asked. Pity wasn't what she wanted. It was the least she wished to see from them, but there it was.

The major's speech in Dove's honour brought her back to reality. This time her teary eyes could finally leave Alder's family to acknowledge the other family who were suffering as much as them.

District Twelve's female tribute, the girl who Dove had tried to ally with even if she did not know the girl's name. The family was on the rich side, for sure. They all looked well-fed and not malnourished, contrary to the majority of the people in the square.