𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ❦ The Hunger Games Sequel

seven

☆ CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO! ☆
031. what's left behind

|| I'M A MESS ||
❝Everything's gonna
be alright, Everything's
gonna be okay, It's
gonna be a good, good
life. I'm a mess.❞

➳➳

THE TEARS THAT fell from the girl's eyes were large enough to create a new ocean.

Each drop was full of miles of waves from the sea, with a level of salt only ever expected from the deepest parts that couldn't ever fade away, but it didn't seem to make a dent. She still cried, and as she did her back contorted into all kinds of shapes so her bones could just about keep her alive. Each time the edges of her spine protruded with a bump as large as mountains; with each hollow shake her two shoulder blades got one step closer to each other.

It would of reminded her of two familiar hands about to hold each other's in comfort if she could see it. Perhaps too much, because no matter how rough her sobs became her shoulder blades never did touch, and the hands of her family never came together.

It was a familiar terror that the man who tried to comfort the girl knew well.

And yet he ignored how harsh the lines on her face and back had become due to the food she was surely missing, and he tried his best to look past how limp her hair had become even when it was washed every other day like everyone else. He didn't chose to see the dramatic change in the shape of her arms and legs, and no part of him ever paid attention to the lack of laughter lines that should of been slowly creasing her mouth.

Finnick ignored everything but the breathy words that came from her mouth after hours of nothing but sounds. He listened to those so carefully he leaned closer to her, and then squinted to make sure he could see the words being written into his long term memory. It was enough to fill up all of his time, but not by much.

"Shhhh." The man cooed with lips as bloodied as his nails. "It's ok. Remember what I told you- tell me about something good."

She wailed out once more as she brought herself down beside Finnick. This time a singular hiccup caused her uneven breathing to halt with her tongue, and yet she spoke with the sane amount of clarity the man would expect from a fully grown adult. While it was a slow reply, it was something that Finnick could only describe as a paradox of the child's original emotions.

"L-lorna always took m..me to school." She explained as her voice began to come back to her "O-on the way, we'd always point out the things we loved the most. I used to say things like the flowers.... or the nice old lady who we used to walk past every day."

"And what about Lorna?"

"She always said the same thing."

Apart of Finnick didn't want to ask what that was, or why it seemed to bring a lump of coal into his throat so black and dark it took away the childlike brightness he had been using. It almost caught him off guard; when tears began to pool around the creases next to Lillian Titan's eyes once more he pushed it away.