CHAPTER FOUR
rituals of the death

THE FEELING OF THE WAVE LIKE BLUE SKIRT AND OVERSIZED WHITE BLOUSE WERE SUFFOCATING TO ELEANOR EVES. Reaping day was always her least favourite day, a day that reminds each individual that they're circus entertainment for the Capitol. The eyes of the Capitol would hunt for the next innocent soul to watch fight to the death, just like they had done to Mags Flanagan, just like they did to Finnick. The vigorous routine of waking up at 6am, getting ready, and potentially preparing to see her loved ones die made her feel sick beyond measure. She nervously picked at her nails as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, making sure not a spot of dirt was on her face and that she looked somewhat presentable.

Her mother was still at the Cresta's, somewhat to the relief of the teenager who felt almost selfish for being grateful her mother was away from her. It had been a week since she saw her mother, the woman even acknowledging she couldn't keep doing this to her daughter and instead staying away.

The pang of guilt and stench of disgust was almost suffocating, both women choked, like the feeling of drowning in the sea.

Eleanor breathed in heavily, pushing a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. She stared at her reflection, her nose flaring at the manifestation in front of her.

"Eleanor Eves," She breathed in, then out heavily. "It is the 67th Hunger Games Reaping ceremony, you are sixteen, you are fine." It was a tedious ritual she had, the affirmations constant in her life. But, regardless she had to do it.

When she was younger, little rituals helped her stay calm. Whether it be cleaning in a specific way so she got everything done, regardless they helped her. When she was twelve, she decided to copy her dad and make the ritual to remember who she was and regardless, the Capitol could try and take everything from her but she'd still be herself.

She'd still be Eleanor Eves, age sixteen, and today would always be the 67th Hunger Games. 

Momentarily, Eleanor wondered what Finnick was feeling in these moments. Every reaping took a toll on him, though he pretended otherwise. He had been pretending for years, his flashy smile always waiting for a camera, even if the Capitol were miles away. Yet, those green eyes told secrets worth more than gold and rarer than diamond.

Years ago, she didn't understand why his eyes shone with devastation the way they did. Eleanor, at the innocent age of fourteen, hadn't properly comprehended the understanding of trauma, simply thinking he didn't want to be friends with her anymore. He had distanced himself from her, avoiding her at all costs, perhaps protecting her from the reality of the games. Though, it wasn't until Eleanor finally came to visit, meeting Mags for the first time, that she realised Finnick wasn't perfectly fine after his games.

Mags Flanagan, the sweet woman she was, noticed Eleanor's presence at Finnick Odair's house door, especially after the boating accident just weeks after he came home. Both her and Finnick lost family, but Eleanor knew that he needed someone with him. She had spent nearly all mourning outside his home, patiently waiting in the sun, consistently banging for Finnick to let her in. Finally, Mags Flanagan had appeared and practically pried the front door open alongside Viola Rosh, the 53rd Hunger Games victor. She had let Eleanor in, pulling Finnick into another room and lecturing him with Viola.

Eleanor never heard that conversation, but she finally got to see the shattered soul which was Finnick Odair.

You see, Eleanor always thought there was beauty in being a bit broken and she wanted nothing more than to show Finnick that. His physical scars from the fallen tributes in the 65th arena were missing, though not even the Capitol could erase the emotional scars the Odair boy had.

"You know, grief is beautiful,"

Eleanor exhaled once more, staring herself down. "Eleanor Eves," age sixteen, and now she was leaving to walk to her doom. The heaviness in her heart crushed her soul with every step, slightly lifting when she finally caught up to Annie Cresta. The pair of girls hugged tightly, Annie already whispering assurance that Eleanor's name was only in the Reaping Bowl four times.

Eleanor could not say the same thing for Annie Cresta. Her name was in there a total of seventeen times. Her odds were higher than Eleanor's, a reminder that Eleanor was a lot more privileged than most of the kids at the Reaping. There were twelve year olds with worse odds than Eleanor, most scrambling to place their name in more for tesserae. Annie was one of those kids, being the second oldest of six. Her older brother, Nola, was too old for the Reaping now and Annie had admitted several times that she'd rather die than let Addie, her thirteen year old sister, take out any tesserae. So, she took the family burden happily, grateful she didn't have to watch her siblings or parents starve at the dinner table.

The only reassurance Eleanor had was that, if Annie was reaped, she'd actually have a chance. Annie was good, Eleanor had to give it to her. She could easily hold it against a career if they attacked her in the arena. When Eleanor was still at the academy, some would say that she could hold it against an opponent well. Naturally, as Eleanor never had to starve, she was strong. But, even when Annie was starving, she was strong. Annie Cresta was a force to be reckoned with at the academy, a potential career contender for the 70th Hunger Games, if she wasn't reaped. Secretly, Eleanor hoped she would never become the chosen kid. She would rather die than watch Annie go through the games.

She'd rather die than watch another friend get reaped.

The moment she met up with Annie, the pair of girls, neatly dressed in dulled out shades of blue which seemed too small for each of them, held each other. Annie Cresta's sea green eyes seemed dull with the presence of the old navy blue dress that clung to her figure so tightly that it swallowed her entirely. It suited her, but a different outfit would have been more appealing.

They'd be in separate parts of the opening, due to Annie being younger, though Eleanor would give her soul to just be able to be with her best friend during the ceremony.

Annie held tightly onto Eleanor's fidgeting hands in an effort to stop her fidgeting. "You and me, okay?"

Eleanor nodded. "You and me."

Both girls didn't say it, but they knew it was 'You, me, and Finnick', of course though, the boy having a deeper importance in being present for the Reaping. Eleanor could not even imagine how things were for him right now, though all she could think about was being close to him.

Annie and Eleanor walked hand in hand, a sea of girls similar to them following suit. It was simply a death march, one foot in front of the other in a lament. Every girl winced as her fingers were pricked, every boy swallowed hard as he watched a friend vanish into a sea of familiar faces. 

Eleanor stood in place as she waited for the victors to immerse, already meeting Finnick's stare as he left the Justice Building, accompanied by Mags and each of District 4's notorious victors. She could tell just by his sea green eyes what he wanted to tell her.

You're fine.

Eleanor subtly nodded at him, a small smile placed on her lips that she knew Finnick couldn't truly repay her with. He was always quiet on his personal relationships with people, not wanting the Capitol to swallow everyone he loved up and spit them right out. Eleanor couldn't blame him, she wouldn't want her entire life broadcasted to the entirety of Panem for the Capitol to indulge on.

They already began speculating on matters about Finnick that didn't concern anyone.

Eleanor turned and felt someone bump slightly into her, looking and meeting a very nervous face. She didn't recognise the girl, who seemed too emaciated to even be old enough to participate in the Games, though Eleanor immediately placed a hand out to her, allowing the girl to squeeze on to it.

She pulled the girl closer, gingerly brushing a curl away from the girl's face. She whispered quietly to the girl. "I wish we met under better circumstances. I'm Eleanor."

"Eileen." Eileen replied quietly. She had shoulder length curly black hair, which stood out greatly in a sea of light browns and blondes that were too bleached from the sun. It was unbearably obvious that she was from The Cove, which almost guaranteed that her name was in that bowl way more than it should have been.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Thana Fatale emerged from the Justice Building, overdressed in a loud purple dress that seemed to drag on the ground behind her. She wore an oversized fur coat in an even darker shade of purple, despite District 4 being overwhelmingly boiling during this time of year. Following her were each of District 4's victors: Cas Vikander, Varun Sels, Viola Harp (now Rosh), Greer Rosh, Mags Flanagan, and finally Finnick. Eleanor's eyes sought his gaze, which seemed already fixed on her.

The woman gave a proud grin at the sea of children, prancing up to the mic and leaning into it with a bellowing laugh. "Welcome, welcome, Happy Hunger Games!" She paused, flailing her hands around exaggeratively. No one seemed to notice Finnick Odair roll his eyes, mouthing Thana's words in perfect unison to the woman. "And may the odds be ever in your favour."

They were never in anyone's favour. 

"Now, you're in for a treat!" The woman let out a giggle that had nearly everyone, even the most stoic of the victors, rolling their eyes at. "We have a very special film, brought to you from the Capitol!"

She giggled once more and the screen besides her lit up.

"War. Terrible war. With those..,.. Orphan..,.. and a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land.

Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained.

Then came the peace. Hard fought. Sorely won.

The people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost and the traitors were defeated.

We swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed that each year the various districts of Panem would offer up in tributes: one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice.

The lone victor ,bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future."

Everyone had practically memorised the video before they were even eligible to be Reaped. It was engrained in their memories, a consistent reminder that these children were being sacrificed because of their ancestors.

Eleanor could not help noticing Finnick mimicking parts of the video with a sarcastic eye roll. Very few would have noticed Mags elbowing him in the side, perhaps reminding him that he had to behave, even fewer could have noticed Cas Vikander chuckling at the younger boy's antics, exchanging a smirk with Varun Sels, who practically everyone knew hated the Capitol.

Thana Fatale, the beacon of purple death that she was, seemed to be enjoying every moment of this. She grinned as she watched the video, her eyes bright and almost cruel as it drawled on.

Finally, the blaring of the microphone echoed in the open area and every child winced. Eleanor could feel Eileen tighten her grip on her, shaking terribly.

Eleanor pulled her close, giving her a squeeze. "It's okay." Her whisper was barely audible, but Eileen seemed to hear it and looked her way with a look of thankfulness.

Thana's voice seemed to echo even louder than before. "Now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honour of representing District 4 in the 67th Annual Hunger Games." Eleanor wished they referred to them as how they actually are: children. They were no men or women, just scared boys and girls who didn't want to fight an unwanted battle. Thana Fatale, as per usual, didn't care. "As usual, ladies first."

Every girl in that congregation watched with horror as the woman fished for a slip of paper that potentially held their fate. As she plucked one slip of white paper out, Eleanor felt herself grip onto Eileen even tighter.

Finally, Thana grinned at the audience, bouncing in place as she finally opened the sheet. Eleanor felt as though the air was suffocating her, Eileen's grip tight, and every girl squirming to find out whether their name would be sending them to their death. Thana cleared her throat with a grin, grinning as she read the name out.

"Eleanor Eves."

me: **aware eleanor will be reaped**
me, when she's reaped: what???? no

shit is beginning my dudes

actually terrified