track #01 in gwyneth thalia anderson

twice // i can't stop me

I CLOSE the door lightly behind me as the last of my friends step out. I sit myself down on the bed, holding my tears in until it's just me, and then I break down sobbing into the sheets. My phone pings, and I look up through the blurry haze with glinting eyes.

Through the bleary mist of tears, I see a message... from Dad?

Curiosity overcomes me, and I click in, already knowing that it's a scam. But I need to know for real Dad isn't giving me a surprise – then the danger will kick in and I will think of a plan to save Dad before it's too late

I start reading. My dear daughter Gwyneth...

Just as I get to the end of this line, the screen flashes, and the message is gone, deleted. As I expected, my dad tried to call for help, but failed as the kidnapper probably deleted the message.

Sighing, I stand up and walk over to my desk, staring out the window at the view of the salty sea, catching a whiff of the signature seaside air. As our hoverhouse can convert, we've decided to change locations ever so often for secrecy and the holidays. School just let out for term break yesterday, and we have relocated to the rocky shores near the beach.

The waves crashing over the pebbles, rocking in the sands. Returning again and again powered by an unexplainable desire. I find the sound of the sea's waves calming to my ears, yet somehow it seems eerily familiar (besides the times we spent on the beach playing), and then I remember.

It was on a beach that I knew I had to stay alive. It was on that very beach that my life was endangered, that I experienced matters of life and death. Almost exactly five years ago. Time is passing by so quickly that I'm eighteen now – and rarely ever think about the Hunger Games, or what it brought me, anymore. However, maybe now that it's a matter of my dad's life and death, the Hunger Games me has resurfaced just for a minute. The version of me who was extremely observant as to where she'd step; the version of me who carefully planned every attack and defense; the version of me who lost so much, yet gained a lot in return; the version of me who'd do anything to survive.

It's real. And if I don't practically give them everything I own, they'll kill Dad.

All I think about is how bad of a daughter I am. Since I was fourteen, I'd never lived under the same roof with my parents and no longer visit them often. If I had paid more attention to my family and moved in with them again after the chaos, Dad might not have been taken.

No matter how it's phrased, my dad's kidnapping is my fault.

I slide a drawer open and take an old notebook out, brushing the dust off the cover and pressing it flat to crack the spine before flipping it open. I kept this notebook from just after the Second Hunger Games ended, and I smile looking at all my now-faded poems and letters to my then-deceased friends before the revival missions succeeded.

I never had the need to revisit the Hunger Games days – not when everyone I hoped to save was already back by my side.

Dear Charlotte... Dear Tristan... Dear Laine.

But once the ambitious side of me is out, there's no going back.

I hastily flip to a new page, taking a few pens from the organizer and writing down 'save dad'. I most definitely can't afford to give them my stupid passcode they're offering for me to save Dad, but what other ways are there?

I scribble a few things on the page and set my pen down.

While moving around my room, I find a page in my psychology notebook dog-eared mistakenly. One of my friends must have accidentally folded it while helping me pick up everything I threw onto the floor, and I open it, smoothing out the corners and reading the header: Criminal Psychology.

I remember that unit – it was one of the ones on my midterm exam. But hidden motifs?

Then it strikes me – they must have taken Dad for a reason. And I strive to find out why.

They wouldn't have done it for the sake of kidnapping a stranger – that'd just be stupid, warranting prison time. Maybe money, ransome? Or maybe they hate the victim's family.

But who hates me? Or Mom?

Before I get the answer, my phone dings and I snap my notebook shut. Laine has posted a picture on Instagram and sent me a message.

xxlaine_whitlock: James escaping is like falling into a muddy puddle on a bright sunny day.

comments:

euniceraina.s: Seriously???

charllllevineee: Agreed, those suck

tristhebetterhale: idk, broken humor Laine

avaisthebetterhale: bro what are you doing on my bestie's post?

private chat:

laine: heard your dad's been kidnapped from euni. are you okay? text me if you need any help PLEASE.

***

I need to ask Mom if she's okay – and check up on her, so I quickly dial her phone number, but am left on voicemail instead. I sigh at the long beep signifying I can start recording my message, but I don't. Instead of sending my mom messages, I gather everything I might possibly need and ask Eunice, who's in the room next door, to call everyone here for a meeting – everyone being almost all of the past tributes, except those who have left to go abroad for work and school.

Most of us have been invited to the seaside for the holidays, and others drive over, so everyone's here in under twenty minutes, and by then us seven residents of the hoverhouse are all seated at the huge underground table in our gigantic basement room which has been recently added to our residence.

When everyone has arrived, we call the meeting to order.

I simply hand my notebook to Kunboss to read as I'm really not in the mood to talk to forty-something people half an hour after getting the news that my dad's been kidnapped, and he starts reading off what I've written.

"There must be a reason for why Gwyn's dad has been kidnapped, and we must find out why," he begins. "However, the price is way too high for us to pay – they're offering us to give Gwyn's social passcode in order to get her dad back."

"I'm sorry, but what's a social passcode?" One of Cadence's friends at the far end interrupts.

Kunboss looks to me, as if to ask if I can explain, and I nod before taking over.

"A social passcode is basically something that's been given to us six by Aurore of Byrok and the new government of the Adelaide Woods. It includes stuff like insurance, money, coupons, and even military licenses."

The girl nods in understanding before I start again. "Obviously I can't give mine to them or they could use things under my name and even do things that are against the law, and I'll be the one in jail. It would also cost us an exorbitant amount of money."

Someone suddenly yells from the end of the table, and a few people gathered around him gasp in shock too. Henery asks permission from Zoey before broadcasting his laptop screen onto our huge wall-mounted TV screen, and our basement breaks into chaos as all of us start talking over each other at the same time, not believing the news before our eyes.

Aurore has been seen preparing their military forces.

"HEY!" Cadence yells at the top of her lungs, and we quiet down. "WE'RE HERE TO DISCUSS THE MATTER OF GWYNETH'S DAD BEING KIDNAPPED, BUT ANYONE THOUGHT IT MAY BE RELATED TO THIS AS WELL?"

"True," Tristan says, cutting in. "We never know what will happen in the future, but now our priority is to figure out who kidnapped Gwyn's dad. Everything else can wait – including this. Please."

The havoc continues, but I'm already not listening and zoning out into my own world. First of all, why would Aurore of all nations break out the military all of a sudden when they've always just been so civil? It doesn't matter if it's us – Aurore preparing their armies is already large enough news. Who would they possibly be thinking of attacking? And why are everyone else the ones who are freaking out when it's my dad that has been kidnapped, and my social passcode that's at risk?

I don't know – but all I know is that I won't let anyone stop me from saving Dad. Not even myself and my impulses.

Because I know in my heart that eventually one day I'll be crossing the line, and if that means saving Dad, I'll do it. And I'll gladly let my heart overtake my head every single second when not even myself can stop me.

- a/n : how are you liking it so far? i took a lot of care and caution while planning the story :) your input is appreciated!