The Forgotten Days

▬▬ 𝟎𝟑 ∙ 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝘆𝗲

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽

˚✩ ⋆｡ ✩┊ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 ┊✦ ˚ · .

▬▬ 03 ∙ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚢𝚎

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

HER SCREAM shatters me.

She was the girl nobody noticed. The girl with a sister everyone knew, yet not her. Annie was her second friend, their soft, kind personalities complimenting each other. She was gentle and offered a smile to everyone she saw, no matter if they returned it. Annie was her second friend; her sister was her first.

Now everyone is looking at her, at the girl whose calm composure, whose fragile walls came down as she sobs for her best friend, her sister, her other half. They replayed the minute of eternity at lunchtime, for everyone to see and nobody to escape - or forget. In an instant, Annie leaves my side and is at hers, comforting her and rubbing her back. People look on in pity, but Hailey Cooper doesn't acknowledge any of their sympathy.

Words do not take away the pain. They do not bring back a lost loved one or make things right. Words, comfort, and kind actions can't heal, they can only help. But she only sobs, oblivious to everyone staring, head buried in her arms.

I don't know how it feels, and I hope I never have to; the closest thing I have to a sister is Annie, and I would be crushed if I lost her. Especially if it's to the manipulative words of a thirteen-year-old girl.

Aphrodite keeps her word. The moment Hanna falls, Finnick freezes in his place, looking down at his hands. What does he see? Is it the clean, innocent hands of a tribute?

Or the blood-stained hands of a killer?

It's not your fault, Finn! Please, it's not your fault!

But he is miles away and a screen playing what happened hours ago can't transmit my mental message.

The cannon sounds, and for once, the entire room is silent. There is no noise, not a single voice whispering: just silence. We may be a Career district, but the death of our tributes is something that we dread. The silence is beautiful.

And terrible.

Because what breaks it is not one of us, but Aphrodite's wild peal of laughter. She grabs the trident from Hanna's body, tipped with red, and she all but forces it into Finnick's hand. He recoils at the sight of it, looking like there's nothing he wants more than to burn the extravagant Capitol gift in a fire and never see it again. But he takes it, and Aphrodite says softly, "I'm not letting you off the hook next time." Then, she mutters something inaudibly in his ear, and whatever it is shocks him. She smirks as she pulls away, cocks her head to the heart of the forest, and warns him one last time.

"Run, Finnick Odair, run far away."

So he does. He runs like there's no tomorrow, one foot in front of another, deep into safety, shielded by trees and night. Even when he's out of sight of every tribute - and a good distance away, not that he'd know - he continues running. Chest heaving with exhaustion and burning guilt, trident swinging from his right hand, left hand brushing away falling tears, he tears through the green foliage. Branches scrape his face, leaving thin red streaks, but he brushes them away nonchalantly and ignores the cuts.

Finally, after ten minutes, he stops at the other end of the arena and climbs a densely covered area to stay. Climbing a tree, he cleans his trident with a wet leaf, then holds it protectively. He takes several deep breaths, and when he opens his eyes again, I can see a renewed fire to win. For District 4. For Hanna.