Liberosis - The Hunger Games

38

Where I'm from, we used to dance in the water on wedding days, the waves that used to sing to us taunt us to drift further into the depths of the ocean to never be seen again. Where I'm from, streets used to smell pleasant, of tropical fruits and sea spray- now it's something rotten, fresh blood decorates the grey stone around the whipping post.

The Pearls don't shine like they used to, the people don't sing, and the children don't smile. The only thing that stays the same is the white we wear on reaping day, white- but as victors, ours has already been tainted. My white dress feels like a lie, perhaps a homage to what I once was- my white was taken the day I won my games.

I sat on the cliff by the cove, painting the world that I used to know, crystal blue water, waves that ripple onto the sandy beach. Two children dancing in the water of the cove, two children that had grown into their worst fears. Victors, killers, traitors. We were everything that we'd prayed not to be. If there was anything up there, watching us from after death, he hated us.

I remember when I was young, as the eldest daughter in a family of six, being told that my reputation needed to be upheld for the good of our family. How the tables had turned, with my parents at the head of a rebellion I wished to stay away from, Andante and Asher were fighting side by side- staring death in the eye as he tried to snap his jaws around them. Addison was the only one who hadn't changed, still quiet, gentle- naïve, a little childish. But we were all grown up now, I wasn't the fourteen-year-old girl chewing gum and skipping class with her best friend.

I was detailing the exact blue of the waves when a deep, teasing voice shocked me from behind, "Damn Rory, those waves look good enough to surf on,"

He was quoting the day he was reaped, all those years ago- the day we had skipped school to play at the cove, we didn't know it yet, but that was the last day of Finnick's childhood. "Hilarious," I whispered, pecking his lips gently, "You'd think after all these years I wouldn't be frightened of you creeping up on me like that,"

"Some things never change," Finnick grinned, sitting beside me and examining my work, "You still get scared when I sneak up on you and I still can't believe I fell in love with someone as adorably gullible as you," I scoffed at his words, rolling my eyes, "I really do love you, you know that right?"

I stood up, abandoning my painting, and helping Finnick to his feet, "And I can sometimes tolerate you to the point where it could be considered love," I teased back, Finnick raised his eyebrow at me, "Just kidding," I whispered, kissing him once again, "I really do love you, almost-husband,"

"Almost wife," Finnick chuckled, as the two of us began to climb down the side of the cliff, "I really like the sound of calling you my wife, 'that's my wife, get you hands of my wife, how gorgeous is my wife,'"

"Careful," I joke, as we reached the point where the rocks met the sand, "It kind of sounds like you're obsessed with me, that's not good for your image,"

"I'll decide what's is and isn't good for my image, thank you very much," Finnick said, offering his hand for me to take, I reached out to take it, but instead he grabbed me, throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "And for the record, love, you are amazing for my image,"

"Finn!" I exclaimed, flailing as he carried me down the beach with minimal effort, "Let me go!"

"Never!" I could tell he was grinning from ear to ear as I groaned, slapping his back several times in protest, "Slap me a little lower and then maybe I will,"

"Finnick," I laughed as we reached the edge of the victor's village.

All the victors sat on the Hadrianus family's porch, enjoying a final breakfast together, Phoenix and Astrid ran up to us excitedly, still oblivious to the conditions of today. We would let them enjoy themselves, their obliviousness was good for all of us. Astrid hugged Finnick's legs, "Uncle Finn, put Aunty Rory down," Astrid ordered, folding her arms.