Impavid

Everything was dull. I could hear the waves moving above me, churning. My eyes burned with the salt of the water. I looked around at the blue world around me, everything blurry and blue. Most of the time the ocean was clear, but like my brain, it was chalky, mixed up and churned.

Finnick was next to me. Both of us were holding our breaths, letting out air every once in a while. Going underwater where you couldn’t hear well, where you could see anything helped. Our hands were extended above us, the only parts of us out of the water at the wrist to let people know that their were in fact people in the water.

My lungs began to scream, building up. It was like a strain in my chest, as if someone had a hand around my lungs, squeezing tighter and tighter as I let out my final breath of air, the bubbles shooting to the top and escaping through the surface of the water.

Part of me wished that I could drown there. That I would pass out from fighting lack of oxygen and that the water would wash away my body to some distant shore, somewhere people could find me and look at me, and see a young girl who was trying to escape.

Right as my lungs were about to explode, when the tissue was about to rib in half from the strain, I kicked up with my feet, pulling with my arms. My head broke the surface and I gasped for air, sounding like a dying creature as I took in as much air as I could.

Next to me, Finnick broke through the water, gasping in gulps of oxygen as well. We were not far from the shore, treading water and taking in big, deep breaths to replenish our lungs. Shortly, my lungs were back to normal.

Neither one of us said anything as we began swimming to shore. There was no hurry in our strokes. We cut through the water like razors until we finally reached the beach, staggering to our feet, dragging them through the wet sand with a heavy burden on our shoulders.

Halfway up the beach I collapsed to my knees. I was hearing the sounds of the games again, beating down on my ears, surrounding me. Now that water wasn’t in my ears, I could hear it all again, the screams, the battle cries. On all fours, I gasped for air, trying to fill my lungs.

It was like I was drowning on dry land.

Strong hands grasp me by the shoulder, squeezing. Finnick was trying to console me. For once in my life, I let him. Never had I accepted his soothing touch, and he had only ever seen me cry once. I expressed my feelings to him, told him my fears, my thoughts, but never once had I cried like I was then.

Sobs were plaguing my body. He picked me up, carrying me towards his house. My head fell into his collarbone and I let out wails, not caring who could hear me. I could go back. I would go back. I felt it in my bones.

I prayed for some sort of anesthetic, for some numbing agent to fall prey on my veins. I didn’t want to feel, I couldn’t breath under the thousands of pounds of water that seemed to be descending on me, crushing me, breaking my body, my mind, my heart.

Careful not to drop me, Finnick placed me in the giant bath tub. He put the stopper in, hit one of the buttons on the side of the tub to select the mode, and turned on the water. I was still in my wetsuit but it didn’t matter as he pulled me forward, getting in to the bathtub.

Pressing my back against his chest, we lay in the bath tub. It began to fill with scalding hot water, but my skin adjusted as I curled into Finnick, crying. I was seeing all their faces again. Lavender and mint filled my senses. Through the mixture of crying myself senseless and the scents, I became drowsy, the cries transforming to sniffles.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked finally. I felt incredibly weak. My mind felt like it was glass, ready to crack at any moment if one more thing happened. My body felt exhausted, and my throat was raw from crying. “I’ll never do this again, I swear. I’ll never- I’ll never be weak again.”

“I don’t think you’re weak, Lana.” He held her a little tighter. “I think that the realization of what could happen is stronger than your wall, though. But you don’t have to go back, okay? It’s possible that it won’t be you.”

I made no response. I had already excepted how likely it was for me to go back. There were four female victors and three male victors. The odds of my name being drawn were twenty five percent. The odds of Mags being drawn was twenty five percent, and I refused to let her go. I refused to see a woman that I loved- that Finnick had a connection with- die. That made it a fifty percent chance I was going in.

Time slipped away as we lay in the water. Nothing about it was romantic. We were not lovers embracing in the water. We were not love struck. We were sad, clinging to one another for dear life, trying to keep the absolute terror at bay. We were two survivors huddled together to keep surviving another second.

There is something to be said about people who cling to one another for safety. Clutching Finnick to me could never save me. It couldn’t keep me away from the capitol if my name was drawn. But as long as I thought I was safe, as long as we kept holding on, I wouldn’t cry anymore.

At some point I pulled myself up. I sucked in a deep breath and kept it there. Finnick watched me carefully, making sure that I wasn’t about to fall to my knees again. But my hands were steady and my knees did not quake.

“That is the last time I will cry.” My voice didn’t sound like my own. It quavered, but not with tears. My fists clenched and I felt a fire building inside, white hot. “There will never be tears from me again. Only vengeance.”

Finnick looked sad. “Lana…”

“If I go back in, I won’t give them what they want. I won’t give them a damn show.”

Silence followed. Finnick wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was looking at the ground, his hand pulling at his bottom lip as he processed what I was saying. Nodding once, I turned to leave. As I did, I heard him whisper, “Lana, my sweet Lana.”

*

The next day was worse. Waking up the next morning was worse than waking up for the day of my games. Because for that split moment where you open you’re eyes, where you are taking in the world for the first time that day, and you don’t even realize you’re human yet, everything is pure bliss. It takes a half a second to register what species you are, what you’re name is, and what life is like.

That moment before your memories collect and align themselves was the only bliss I was ever offered. And it was ripped out from under me, someone yanking the rug that I stood on only to have me come crashing down into the reality of what had happened, that it wasn’t a dream.

For a long time, I lay in bed. The numb that I had so desperate craved the day before had settled in. It crept into my blood stream, pumped through my heart. I was numb down to the marrow.
And it got worse still.

I heard him before I saw him. He was practically screaming as he beat my door down, kicking it, clawing it, ripping at it. My door had been locked, so by the time I opened it, Cain had his face in his hands, crying into them. My parents hadn’t told him until now. I didn’t even have to ask; I knew that was what happened.

Much like Finnick had with me, I pulled Cain into my chest. He stumbled so hard into me that we both fell on the floor, folding in on one another. I didn’t bother moving. I held him, my hands tight in the hair at the back of his neck as he let ungodly sounds into my stomach, holding me tight.

My lips trembled, but I did not give. I refused to cry.

One victor across the street saw the scene. The sadness in his eyes made me look away. It was hard enough to feel my own sadness, but to see that of which I was feeling echoed in the souls of other people was unbearable.

“It won’t be you,” Cain said defiantly, sitting up. Snot was running from his nose and his eyes were blood shot. He wiped his tears with balled fists, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “You will not go back in there. You can’t.”

“Cain-"

“I won’t take my meds if you do. I swear it! I’ll get sick again, I won’t live without you, Lana. Not again.”

“Caindon do not speak like that.” His mouth snapped shut and his crying ceased to the occasional hiccup. I looked at him sternly. “You won’t ever say that again, you won’t even think it. That isn’t a brave thing to do, is it? To give up?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Good, because you’re brave. You’re going to keep taking your medicine, no matter if I go in or not. I may not, but if I do, I swear I won’t give them what they want. I won’t let them take my mind away again.”

He nodded. “You’ll show them who’s boss.”

“Of course she will.” We both flinched. My father was standing at the foot of my porch. Dark circles were under his eyes, his face pale. He looked old. “Lana is brave. You’ll be just like her, Cain.”

Pulling Cain into my chest, I looked over my brother’s head at my father. His hair was graying and his blue eyes were lightening with age. He was in his fisherman’s overalls, preparing to go to the docks. He sent me a questioning glance that I understood. Do you think you’re going in.

I gave a single nod. He bowed his head. “Come on, Caindon. You must attend school.”

Cain gave me a squeeze. I kissed him on his head and watched as he backed away from me, giving me such a mournful glance that I almost broke my promise and cried. But I didn’t. would never cry again.