The Life of A Victor || Finnick Odair

CHAPTER 51

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Waking up to the sound of screams was a daily routine after six weeks on the Capitol. Peeta Mellark, the poor boy from Twelve who had no idea about the rebellion, was being tortured to punish Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay, and face of the rebellion.

Dove wasn't in a better condition, though. President Snow realised right away that she knew nothing other than what she had deducted during the arena. Nothing else, nothing more. Neither Finnick nor anyone else from her family would risk her safety by telling her rebel secrets. However, not having the information didn't save her either. Just like Peeta, she was being tortured to punish her loved ones, or at least the ones still alive.

"I'm genuinely sorry, Miss Ogilvy. But there were no signs of your family in Four. They must be on the pile of dead bodies already." President Snow told her, a sly smile on his face, after Peeta's first interview weeks ago.

Her siblings. Her mother. Annie. Theo. Five people she loved. Dead. Nothing to be done about them. Although, if she compared death to her situation, they could be considered the lucky ones.

Death was the last step. Quick or slow. Painless or painful. There was nothing else after that. But not for Peeta or Dove. Every day, they were tortured until falling unconscious. Each with a different kind of torture.

Dove's was simple. They filled a tank with poisonous fog and left her there until she fainted. Then they filled a bath with water and tossed her body inside. How many times had she begged them to kill her? Too many to count. Her strength to carry on, to keep herself alive, had been long-lost.

Only in her brief moments of sanity, she remembered the promise she had made Finnick swear. Maybe she would never see him again, nor her precious necklace. However, maybe didn't mean it was certain. There was a chance. Not probable. Too little to count in a normal situation. But that was the beauty of her position. It was not a normal. Dove was desperate to hold on onto anything. And hope was the only thing left for her. She had lost everything else.

Peeta's torture, however, was more complicated. Only a couple of weeks ago, they had realised what they were doing to him. At midnight, when their grasp of reality was stronger than the rest of the day, they chatted. Sometimes they brought up past stories from their childhood. In others, they talked about their games.

It was Peeta's phrase "She tried to kill me the very first day in the arena" that shocked Dove because it wasn't true. They spent all night recalling things, trying to differentiate between reality and the Capitol's invention. It wasn't completely futile, but it wasn't too helpful either. Every day that passed, new memories were brought up to be discussed.

The majority were about Katniss, none of them good. The more days passed, the worse they became. But not all were about her. Some had other people. Finnick, Johanna, Haymitch, and his family were the most common of those.

Footsteps left the room, which gave her from ten to fifteen minutes to check on Peeta until the Capitol people came back to torture her. Dove crawled her way to the wall that separated Peeta's cell from hers. "Peeta . . ." She whispered, her damaged throat not letting her talk any louder.

"I'm here . . . not unconscious yet." He breathed out. Dove heard the familiar noise of crawling in her direction. She took her arm out through the bars to grasp one of Peeta's cell bars. "I think they're being nicer today because of the interview."

"I heard I'll be with you in it," Dove commented softly, taking a few seconds before speaking again. "I'm exhausted. I don't know how much longer I can take it. Half of my family is dead, the other is in Thirteen, but I'll never see them again. . . I have no one left."