Liberosis - The Hunger Games

35

Finnick had endured seven more appointments since the first cannon signalled the beginning of the 70th annual hunger games. Seven more scorching hot showers.

Six more tributes left.

Five mentors trying their best to keep it together.

Four more panic attacks.

Three screaming matches.

Two District Four victors on the brink of losing their minds.

And one evil bastard at the centre of the chaos- President Coriolanus Snow, the apex predator- that manipulator of all that was left on mankind. He'd been playing us long before we'd entered our own games, and he would continue to exploit us until our bones turned to dust beneath his feet. I'd met some terrible people in this world, but none as truly vile as the President. "Perfidious," I hissed to myself, tapping busily on the screen in front of me, "Truly the most wretched, conniving little snake,"

"I hope this isn't about last night," A fragile voice broke from beside me.

Finnick's hands were twisted together anxiously, we'd fought yesterday, everything about these games had us both on edge- neither of us was in the right, but we knew that. It was as if every little thing was pushing us further away from each other, though we shared a bed every night, he felt an ocean away.

I knew I should have been more understanding of him, if it weren't for the experience of two nights ago, I would have been.

Two nights ago, I had drained my sixth coffee of the day to the final bitter dregs, letting the plastic cup fall into the bin beside me. Finnick was at an appointment, and I was the only one remaining at the mentor's compound level. The hand of game maker Plutarch Heavensbee had gripped my shoulder, swivelling me around on my chair and entrapping me in an unwanted conversation.

I had never told anyone about our conversation on my Victors Tour those short few years ago, not even Finnick, who had found me in an overwhelmed mess post the altercation. I had hoped it would be the last I saw of the idealistic man and the vision he had for me, and I found myself in a position I hated to be in, incorrect.

"Miss Hartley," He greeted me calmly, sliding into Finnick's chair beside me, "Such a pleasure it is to have you back in the Capitol,"

"Mr Heavensbee," I responded in a clipped tone, "You've wandered far from the Game maker's headquarters- do you, minor Game makers, truly have so much freedom," I emphasized the word 'minor' with as much hostility as I could muster.

Plutarch took the hint, stiffening at my cold reaction to his unwelcome presence, "I heard about the disaster at the District Four ports, not long ago, what a relief that your family is safe-"

I froze, zoning out the rest of his sentence as the words mulled over in my head, the words that he had told me that night those years ago reappeared:

"We have to kindle whatever disturbance this is creating, perhaps it can lead to change,"

He had kindled the disturbance, setting it- and my entire familiar life ablaze, all that was left from before was the memories of unscarred hands and Finnick- who had never left me. "They're with you? My parents?"

"And your brother- a determined one, Andante- he'll make a fine leader-"

"He'll be nothing of the sort, their lives may be invaluable to you- but 100 of my people died that day, 100 human lives were lost to your cause," I sneered, standing up and towering over the top of his seated frame, "If you so much as breathe in my family's direction again, it will be the last breath you take. Do you understand me?"