IT WAS BRIGHT. So bright that it took her eyes longer to adjust to the sudden lights around her. Her mind was racing with thoughts that she couldn't organise and she had never felt so disorientated in her life. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her nerves were blocking her airways as she panted heavily.

"Ladies and Gentleman!" Claudius Templesmith, the announcer, spoke through a huge speaker which echoed around the arena, "Let the 75th Hunger Games begin."

Where was she? She looked around frantically. Trees— lots of trees. Where was she?! Francesca demanded an answer from herself, forcing the world around her to come into focus.

"May the odds be ever in your favour."

Water. A clear sky. A scorching sun. The Cornucopia, about 40 metres away. Multiple strips of rocky land which led towards the Cornucopia. Surrounding her, was a whole jungle of forest and Francesca had to blink her eyes shut tightly to check if this wasn't another nightmare because everything seemed so familiar. And... water.

No, no, no, no, no! Francesca felt her body freeze at the realisation. The only way to get to the Cornucopia was for her to swim to the strips of land. The water was deep, dangerously deep, and Francesca's eyes were filling with tears because she was going to die.

Where was Finnick? Her second question to herself, as her eyes quickly darted around the area. Her mouth was so dry that she couldn't even call out his name. The waves surrounding her filled her with so much horror that her heart began to race rapidly.

The layout of the arena was almost identical to her first Games: the swimming, the Cornucopia being centred in the middle of water, the trees surrounding them, the Tributes' platforms placed in a circle. But, it was different too; this arena was hot, humid and almost tropical compared to the swamp. But everything reminded Francesca of her first Games and she was convinced the Game-makers designed this arena just to spite her.

This arena was Frankie's personal hell.

BANG!
The canon fired to declare the start of the Games and Francesca flinched.

If she didn't dive in, she would die on her platform. And, no matter how much it scared her, she couldn't leave her brother alone.

Francesca was stuck on her plate, frozen as she watched at least 10 Tributes start swimming towards the wooden deck. She watched Kipper run through the swamp, the thick water splashing wildly as the boy travelled deeper.

Francesca dived in.

The swamp was slightly warm, and Francesca hated the feeling of the thick chunks of organic matter. She began running into the water, her eyes fixated on the Tributes— especially the boy from 9– as they travelled closer to the wooden deck. In water, Kipper and Frankie had a huge advantage.

But the water was cold and deep as it consumed her body whole. The girl was swimming and, suddenly, she was 16 again. No, no, no— she was 19. And she had to reach the Cornucopia to find Kipper— no— to find Finnick.

Quickly, Francesca was pulling her body weight up onto the landing strip of wet rock. She groaned, water dripping off her body, as she yanked her prosthetic leg to cooperate with her. Her leg slowed her down, though she noticed that she was one of the first Tributes to have arrived on the landing strip.

She was running as fast as she could along the land strip, occasionally slipping on the rocks beneath her. And everything seemed so confusing because Francesca kept forgetting where she was. She uncontrollably shouted out,

"Kipper!" She had to find him. She was sure that the alligator would emerge from the swamp any minute. Frankie had to get to the deck, though as she neared the Cornucopia, she realised it wasn't a deck at all. Because this wasn't the 72nd Hunger Games. It was the Quarter Quell— she had to find Finnick.

Now, the other Tributes had began sprinting along the land strips too, gaining on Frankie as she arrived at the Cornucopia. She panted quickly, thinking like a Career as she reached for a silver trident.

Francesca had time to reach the silver trident, which was displayed on the table along with daggers, a bow and arrow and axes, before she was accompanied on the deck by Romyn— the quiet boy from District 7. He climbed onto the deck, pushing himself up with ease; he spotted Frankie instantly, shooting her a glare, before rushing towards the nearest dagger on the table in the centre of the deck.

Francesca blinked tightly and, it wasn't Romyn catching up to her, but the Victor from District 2. She wasn't on the deck, but a rocky surface beneath her feet. In the distance, a jungle circles around a narrow beach. Not a swamp. This was the 75th Hunger Games.

But— no, that meant Kipper was dead.
That meant everybody was dead.
Cherry was...

BOOM!
The canon echoed.

"Hey! Lou— Lou!" The voice of Finnick was muffled in Francesca's head, "You did it, Lou. You're okay. Lou?" He noticed the familiar blank look in Frankie's eyes. He stood in front of her, one hand holding a trident and the other was reaching for her hand. He held her hand tightly, before pulling the girl along beside him.

BOOM!
Another Tribute dead.

And it all happened so fast. Francesca couldn't recall how it had happened without anybody noticing the shadow within the depths of the water. From within the swamp, the large mutt suddenly splashed out of the water. Its head surfaced as it opened its mouth quickly, its three rows of jagged teeth snapped shut around Dara's body. The little girl screamed in agony, as the alligator pulled her body into the water.

"Katniss." Finnick shouted, "Peeta's over here!"

Katniss? Francesca remembered that they were a part of the rebellion plan that both Katniss and Peeta weren't aware of.

Francesca blinked and realised she was stood next to a familiar brunette girl. Herself, Finnick, and Katniss. The three of them were all stood on the landing strip, looking out into the depths of the salt water. Francesca squinted, making out two bodies in the water— one of them being Peeta Mellark.

She didn't know how to protect Katniss in the frozen state she was in.

Katniss pulled an arrow from her quiver, not hesitating to aim her arrow to try and kill the Tribute attacking Peeta.

Frankie said, her breathing heavy, as she looked at Nico, "Nice shot."

"Nice headlock." The boy retorted.

Dara, the young girl, questioned curiously, "Are you hurt?"

"No," Frankie gave a small smile, complimenting, "You're a quick swimmer, Dara."

But, it was too risky— even for Katniss. Peeta and the other Tribute were wrestling in the water, pushing each other into the depths until their bodies were both submerged by water. Abruptly, Finnick dived in, swimming towards the scene.

BOOM!

Frankie looked at Katniss as she lowered her bow. She had to admit, their act of love seemed very realistic, yet she still refused to believe it. Francesca didn't believe in love anymore, not since Cherry left.

"Peeta." Katniss breathed in relief, as the two watched his body emerge from beneath the water. The boy panted heavily, as he joined Finnick in swimming back to the land strip.

The four used the land strips to run back towards the narrow beach. Where the sand ended, a jungle began; it was humid and the air was thick. The floor was uneven and Francesca was already finding it insanely hard to keep up with the fast moving group. Her head ached. Her chest was heaving for more oxygen. They were all sprinting ahead of her, Peeta leading the group as he swung a machete to quickly cut through the thick leaves.

Finnick repeatedly looked back at his sister, checking if she was still following. Francesca used to be an incredibly fast runner, and now she was running behind the group helplessly.

"Okay." Finnick called out to the pair in front, "Hold up, hold up."

Francesca panted heavily, as she slowed down her jog and caught up with the three in front of her. She hated to be the liability of their alliance.

Finnick asked curiously, "You alright now?"

"I can run, Nick." Frankie snapped accidentally. She panted heavily, before adding quickly, "Sorry."

Peeta suggested, "God, it's hot. We gotta find fresh water."

BOOM!

Finnick chuckled, "Well, I guess we're not holding hands anymore."

"You think that's funny?" Katniss retorted. It was clear to Francesca that the girl wasn't too keen in having the siblings as her allies.

"Every time that canon goes off, it's music to my ears." Finnick mused, "I don't care about any of them."

Katniss grabbed a machete which was shouldered around her back. She held onto it tightly, glaring at Finnick, "Good to know."

"None of us are in this arena because of chance." Frankie added, before glancing at the blonde boy beside, "Except maybe Peeta." It was true. Out of all of the Tributes in that arena, Francesca voted that Peeta was the nicest one. He wasn't turned into a killer because of the Capitol, not like the rest of the Tributes had.

Finnick looked at Katniss, "You wanna face the Career pack alone? What would Haymitch say?"

"Haymitch isn't here." Katniss deadpanned.

Francesca remembered the rebellion plan— she was still unsure if it was going to work, though she figured she'd have hope. If Katniss hated the Odair siblings, the plan had less chance in happening; Katniss looked as though she was ready to kill Finnick with her machete right now. Frankie wasn't going to take any chances; she scoffed, "You need us, Katniss. You can't exert yourself— not in your condition." Francesca eyes her stomach sarcastically, and Katniss almost remembered that she was supposed to be pregnant.

Peeta repeated again, "Let's keep moving."