CHAPTER TWO
↳ the end is near

ON CLIO ROYCE'S TWELFTH BIRTHDAY, SHE CRIED. Most kids cried when they turned twelve, awakening on the morning of their birthday covered in sweat and fear present in their eyes.

The people in Panem probably celebrated twelve birthdays with golden chariots, endless piles of dessert, and happiness. Clio could picture the vivid smiles on the children, running around without a care in the world. She truly did envy the world they lived in; a world where their rib cages didn't prod out their stomach, where they didn't have to watch family die, where they were safe.

Clio doubted her ancestors would've wanted this for them.

People in District 8 marked the twelve birthday as a funeral. A large portion of children went into factories, all were entered into the Reaping. The district always was a solemn parade for birthdays, the concrete jungle that seemed to forever mark as their cage reminded them of it. It was a tomb and they were all reanimated corpses, pawns in the Capitol's game.

"Hey," Azrail had clutched her close as she awoke screaming on her birthday. "You're fine. You're fine." His whispers were forever ingrained in Clio's memories, sometimes she found herself mouthing them herself.

A much more afraid Clio cried into his shoulder as he rubbed her arms soothingly. "I'm not! No one is fine!"

Azrail had cupped her cheeks with his hands, the callouses prominent from his long hours in the factory. He pressed his forehead against hers. "I promise you, you are fine. Me and you, Cli."

"Me and you." She replied back, repeating his words and copying his breathing. "Az?" He hummed, allowing for her to ask. "Why is the world so cruel?"

"Because there were too many good people." He replied back, a small frown present on his face. He pulled her close, allowing her to lay on his chest. "I know you're one of the good ones, Cli."

"You think?"

"I know," he kissed her forehead softly. "You wanna go to open your present?" She nodded almost shyly, much to his joy, pulling her up off bed. He placed both his hands over her eyes, walking her into the other room. "Now... got any guesses?"

"No?"

"Not even one?"

"No." Clio shook her head. He finally lifted his hands off her eyes. There was a singular present sat on the stool, wrapped up messily. Clio grinned at her brother, who awkwardly scratched his head at the bad wrapping. Gingerly, Clio picked up the present, unwrapping it gently, and gasping as she saw the present.

Her mother's wedding ring on a silver chain.

"Azrail?" Her eyes watered ever so slightly as she looked his way. He pulled out a matching chain, revealing their father's ring. "They're momma and papa's?"

Azrail nodded. He crouched down to get to her height, his hands once again on her face. "Yes, they're momma and papa's. Vivi gave me them, she said they always wanted us to have them when we turned twelve." He felt his eyes water as Clio sobbed openly into his shoulders. "Hey, it's okay. You're fine."

You're fine.

You're fine.

Clio was busy sat on the sofa while Peyton laid on her lap. She was nervously fiddling with the ring, the cold metal an odd comfort to her while she stared off into space. On the floor, Audrey and Gabrielle were too busy playing with their dolls besides Cecilia. The three year old was busy making her doll jump up and down repetitively, while her older sister tried recreating a ballet number. Their mother was failing at creating a reinactmwnt of an old child's story about some girl who got poisoned by an apple and was saved by a handsome prince, failing to engage Gabrielle and Audrey.

Thankfully the Capitol had stopped broadcasting the executions of the rebels on the TV, allowing for brief segments done by Caesar Flickerman to appear. Woof was sat reluctantly on the sofa, clearly annoyed they were watching Caesar's segment on Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.

"They don't even love each other." Woof had protested after being slapped by Cecilia for trying to change the channel. The dolls now laid discarded on the ground, as she stood right in front of the old man. The older woman held tightly onto the remote, glaring at Woof who glared back equally annoyed. Peyton, Gabrielle, and Audrey were all snickering as Woof tried grabbing onto the remote, only for their mother to recoil and hold it high above her head.

As much as the older woman didn't want to admit it, she was finding too much joy in watching each of the dresses appear.

"And?"

"Come on Ce." Woof protested as though it was the most obvious fact in the world "They're mindless Capitol Propaganda." Woof had snarked.

Clio, however, had to disagree. "Clearly not mindless if Everdeen tried committing suicide in the arena." She had to give it to Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, they had balls. Of course, neither probably realised what they had done, but nevertheless they did it. That's all that mattered. "Besides, the girl looked beyond uncomfortable in that dress and honestly it's so ugly. Cinna definitely did not design that one."

Woof rolled his eyes at Clio. "Please don't tell me you actually like this stuff."

Clio put her hands up in defence. "Come on, it's clothes! They're interesting." Clio was not going to admit that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark sparked a small amount of hope in her the moment the both of them held the Nightlock in their grip, counting to three together. Of course Woof believed it to all be bullshit, but Cecilia and Clio both could tell Katniss Everdeen was the Girl on Fire for a reason.

Fire was the only thing that could stop Snow.

But, it seemed as though the Capitol loved dimming down the defiance and strategically hid it as a girl being desperate to save her love. It was clear they didn't want the districts to believe there could be any hope for them, though it seemed as though the districts didn't need much to realise there was hope.

8 especially.

"Let's get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding in style!" he hollers to the crowd. Woof finally got ahold of the remote, going to turn off the TV when Caesar announced something else. "That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!"

His added comment sent dread into all three victors.

Cecilia sighed, turning to her three daughters. "Girls, bedtime."

Audrey pouted, Gabrielle complained, and Peyton crossed her arms over her chest, but that didn't stop Cecilia Zhao from sending them all to bed with the promise that she'd bring them hot chocolate. As the three thudded quickly up the stairs, Cecilia sat down besides Clio and pulled her close.

"I thought the announcement wasn't for months?" Clio had asked, frowning prominently. She nervously placed her glass down on the table, her hand shaking as she stared at the TV. Cecilia grabbed a hold of the girl's hand, pressing a small kiss to the knuckles.

Woof shook his head. "They always do this, increases the excitement." His remark was nothing more than bitter and distasteful, his eyes full of hatred as he stared at the screen. He slightly flinched when Snow appeared, Cecilia nervously staring, and Clio swallowing

His speech was nothing less than spectacular to the onlookers in the Capitol. The patriarchal cheers thundered loudly, an echoing reminder of how the victors were seen: as entertainment. The President began, looking at his people with elation in his stone cold eyes.

Clio honestly didn't think Snow could hold any emotion in his eyes.

"On the twenty anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it." Clio brought her hand up to her mouth, swallowing hard. She nervously watched Woof, who shut his eyes tight at the memory. He was the second oldest victor, just behind Mags Flanagan, and had witnessed both previous Quarter Quells. Clio could not even imagine the horrors the games brought him.

"On the fiftieth anniversary," the president continues, "as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."

Woof grumbled out bitterly. "Haymitch's games." His remark was filled with distaste as he took a sip of a clearly alcoholic beveridge. Cecilia didn't even try scolding him. "Turned him into a right on drunk. Don't blame him one bit. I'd have killed myself the moment I was alone if I was him."

Clio herself averted her eyes momentarily away from the screen. It was no secret to the victors that her Aunt had been one of the girls from District 8 sent to the 2nd Quarter Quell. Thalia Katz had been reaped at the age of eighteen, just one reaping off finally evading the games forever. Clio never heard her mother ever speak of the eighteen year old, perhaps not even having a good memory of her.

"And now we honour our third Quarter Quell," says the president. The little boy in white stepped forward, holding out the box as he opened the lid. The sight of the tidy, upright rows of yellowed envelopes gave an uneasy feeling to all of them. So many plans, so many deaths. Snow took out an envelope clearly marked with a 75. He runs his finger under the flap and pulls out a small square of paper.

Without hesitation, he read, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Clio felt her hand cover her mouth in shock, her body feeling weak, her heart feeling heavy. Cecilia had crumbled to the ground in sobs, rocking herself back and forth while whispering 'but my babies' over and over again.

Clio didn't know it but she was one of those babies.

Woof had angerily stormed out, his jaw clenched, the slam echoing in the house as he finally left. Clio didn't even want to imagine what the man was going through.

She wanted to scream. She wanted nothing more than to collapse into a fit of incoherent screams, cursing at the Capitol for this cruel fate. It seemed as though the only way they'd ever detach the strings the Capitol wove into their skin were by dying.

Clio didn't want to die. Not now. She wasn't ready.

Swallowing her emotions, Clio collapsed besides Cecilia, pulling the older woman into her arms. She rocked the woman back and forth, humming quietly. She could feel Cecilia stilling in her arms, her whispering assurance the only echoing in the hallways.

"You're fine," She softly muttered, her words holding a close promise to the mother of three. She rocked her back and forth. "You're fine, Ce. I promise you, you're fine."

It was also a promise to herself.

But, Clio Royce had learnt one thing after her games.

Any promise to herself was never a promise.

JAZ SPEAKS

so... snow's a bitch

also clio and azrail— they deserve so much better

like WAYYYYYY better