𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

─── weathered parchment

          𝕹othing terrified me more than the arena. Every single year, I had to drag myself out of my home, force a calm expression onto my face and take a trip to the Capitol with two children who would inevitably be brutally murdered. I had to look at their faces, see their mothers and fathers in the District, and answer to them why they had not won, why I had failed them.

Even if one of them had won, there was still another child dead, still twenty-two more children dead. Each year, like clockwork, and the bodies kept piling up at my feet.

But it was not the children that I had sent into the arena that haunted me most of all, it was the children that I had killed. The blood still coated my hands in the early morning, and the thoughts of killing adults in this arena, people I knew and worked with, made my stomach roll even further.

I thought that I had escaped the fear of my name being pulled from the bowls, our escort reading out Anika Dawsey, but now I woke up at night, terror filling me at the thought of someone else calling my name out.

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't live in fear. I couldn't go back.

"Anika." Footsteps padded down to join me on the beach, a familiar lanky body landing beside me as I stared at the sea. If I just walked into it and kept walking, they couldn't call my name. "Hey..."

Finnick nudged me gently, until I turned to face him. His cheeks were hollow, deep bags beneath his eyes and I knew my own looked the same.

"You haven't been sleeping."

"Neither have you." My voice was hoarse, not having been used in weeks unless to scream and cry at the unfairness of it all. I had been free. I had been out, and now, they were dragging me back? 

He hummed in agreement to my statement.

"We're going to be alright, Anika."

"If you're going to lie to me, at least try and sound confident." I muttered, as I watched Finnick. His face was drawn, eyes sad and I shook my head. "I don't want to go back."

"There's a chance you won't."

"Who else? Mags shouldn't. Annie has worse PTSD than me, Jem is on death's door. I'm the only one who could do it." I pointed out, before sighing. If I died today, I'd condemn them to the arena. "Even if I don't volunteer or my name doesn't get called, I'll have to watch as Mags or Jem di-"

I couldn't bring myself to finish that sentence, my words choking up in my throat as I shook my head and turned away from him. Jem had been my mentor. I'd been her last tribute before she retired and Mags took over and I'd won for her, and for Finnick. If I had to see her go into that arena at ninety three years old, if I had to watch her die brutally at the hands of another, then I don't think I'd be able to continue.

"At least you have a chance." Finnick stopped me and I turned to look at his eyes, sea green and brimming with sadness. "There's no chance for me, Anika. I'm the only male tribute."

I shook my head, turning away as I trembled. When Finnick went back, it would finish me off, that was for certain. 

He slumped, before leaning into me, his head hitting the top of mine as we stayed there.

"I don't want to go back." He whispered, and for a moment, he sounds fourteen again, terrified to go into the arena. I reached up, my fingers tangling into his curls and pulling him towards me. He softens, both of us staring at the sunrise, before he presses a kiss to the side of my head.

"I'll go with you." He tenses at my words, even as I choke them out.

"Anika..." Finnick pauses. "The Games and you-You are never yourself when the Games are happening, you will not survive another arena."

"I can't sit on the outside and watch you die, or any of the others. You need someone-" I paused, panic and terror rising up inside of me, before I batted it down. "You need someone who can fight. I'm the only one."

"Anika, you're shaking even talking about it."

"Who else is going to protect you in there?" I choked out, trying to fight the feeling of clawing at my throat. I laughed, hoping it would take the pain away but my laughter died in a matter of moments. I ran my fingers back through Finnick's hair, scratching at his scalp as we took a deep breath in unison.

"Me and you?" 

"Me and you." I agreed.

──⭒─⭑─⭒──

Reaping day was sunny and I hated it. How could it be sunny when something so terrible was happening? How dare it.

I had opened my closet, finding the back of it where my reaping outfit lay. I hadn't had to wear it for years now, and it hurt to pull it back on. The skirt was long, the boots were comfy and my top covered my arms and scars. I found my old token as well, in the back of the draw of my dresser, sliding my father's wedding ring onto my finger.

I didn't bother with makeup, not wanting to hide the bags beneath my eyes, but I had enough time to plait my hair and that was it.

The Peacekeepers banged on our doors, there were four to each Victor, now potential tributes, escorting us from our homes and to the main square of District 4, like we were criminals. They thought we would run, but we wouldn't get far, the guns would shoot us down quickly.

The streets from the Victor's village into the town are lined with people, watching us be paraded through our home, all of them with expressions that screamed pity. I hated it. Hated the pity that they watched us with. Of course it was shit we were going back into this situation, it was terrible, it was frightening and worst of all, we were killing our friends this time around. I knew the people I would fight, and that made it all worse.

There is only one man for the male tributes. Finnick is it, one of our male Victors died two years ago, the last one committed suicide the days after the Quarter Quell was announced. He couldn't live with the thought of going back.

I couldn't either. But I couldn't die, not when Finnick needed me.

Jem is balanced on her walking stick, swaying back and forth from the walk that they had forced her to do. Mags is holding her up, whilst also trying to support Annie, who is crying, head bowed. I take Jem's other side, linking my arm with her and pulling her upright as she looks up at me. Her eyes are sad, withered hand squeezing mine. If she's called, it would be a miracle for her to even live long enough to get into that arena.

She doesn't say anything, watching me sadly as I force a smile, though I know it doesn't work.

Our escort, Alton, has been our escort since before I was born. He's flamboyant and stuck up, unsympathetic with us, but he's a good escort, so we tolerate him. I don't expect to see him upset with the Victors being forced to come back, and he's not, smiling and chatting, ushering us along and going through the ceremony.

"For the women..." He preens for a moment to the camera, before reaching into the bowl. I duck my head, squeezing Jem's hand again. No matter what name is called, I will be in that arena. This is my last moment of being free.

My head falls back, looking up at the sky, but there are no birds for me to watch, to imagine that I am as free soaring as they are. Just the sun. Hot and harsh.

"Anika Dawsey." I nod, my head dropping once more as I squeeze Jem's hands. She looks relieved, and horrified, simultaneously. Mags and she begin to shake their heads, but I stop them.

"It's alright." Neither of them seem to believe that. "I'm alright."

They know I'm lying, but I force a smile anyway and walk away from them. The Peacekeepers let me pass, and I climb onto the stage, standing beside Alton. Holding my hands behind my back, I dig my nails into the skin, begging for them to stop trembling. No weakness. No weakness, I can't show it.

"For the men." Alton steps away from me, and I count my breaths. Four seconds to breathe in, hold it, breathe out for four. Don't panic. Don't show weakness, I can do this. "Finnick Odair."

The crowd actively cries out and mourns, as Finnick forces a grin and nods, clambering up onto the stage. He waves as the crowd cries out in disappointment.

Turning towards me, I catch the sadness in his eyes as we shake hands. He pulls me into a hug, giving me a moment to close my eyes and hide myself, before we're pulling back. Finnick nods again as we turn back to the front.

"Your tributes for District 4. Anika Dawsey and Finnick Odair." The crowd calls and jeers, as hands land on my shoulders and Finnick and I are turned away.

There's no one for either of us to see of, so we're sent straight to the train station, clambering on in an instance. Mags is waiting for us there, joined by Jem. They must have decided Annie was too fragile to go.

"You shouldn't be here." I warned Jem, who was sitting on the sofa, winded. Alton makes his appearance afterwards.

"Congratulations, congratulations." No one else in the room shares his joy. "We have such a strong team! This Quarter Quell, we will win it. Oh, get ready for dinner. I've got your favourites."

He grinned, before disappearing back into the train as it rattles beneath us.

"None of us should be here, but we are." Jem shakes her head, before standing up. There's a new life in her and it makes me think she's going to get through these next few weeks on pure spite alone. "Now, we have to work out our plan and we have to decide what to do. Are we clear?"

"Yes ma'am." Finnick nodded, as Jem turned to me. I nodded my head.

"Good. Shower, new clothes, eat and we get to work. Everything has to be perfect." Jem's eyes narrow, the calculating look appearing in them once more as Finnick and I are dismissed like we're simple tributes once more, not the Victors we have proven ourselves to be.

The Games have begun.

──⭒─⭑─⭒──

Hiya,

So, been a little bit of time, but we're back. Anika is just panicking a lot, but trying to hide it. She and Finnick have a weird relationship where no one knows how close they are, even them, and they just don't want the other one to die, fun! Also, you've now met Jem who despite being old is a force to be reckoned with. She and Mags are back and scheming, which I'm excited for!

Let me know what you think,

Love Li xx