Inhale

I was awake before the sun had risen. Propped upright against the headboard with a lukewarm glass of water in front of me. The bed was safe as long as I was in it. Attempting to force the images that had plagued me all night away, I threw myself onto my side to get more comfortable.

I managed to keep myself half drowsing until it was late morning. I could hear both of the girls getting up and ready for their day. Due to the nature of the announcement school was cancelled. Neither of them was worried; still far too young for the risk to be there.

I hoped.

Between mangled dreams and memories different scenarios, each more horrible than the last, kept appearing. The children being younger had stuck with me and as much as I tried to convince myself it couldn’t be that, it was so horrific it just seemed to make sense. Last time they had sent in forty-eight children, the first Quarter Quell had made the Districts choose who to send. That was before the volunteering really started from what I could gather.

I had spent the evening doing my research and trying to get Mags to divulge anything she could still remember. Each Quarter Quell was worse than any usual games, and this third one would surely follow the pattern and be by far the evilest, the cruellest. I was desperate to assure myself that younger children would never work, people would revolt. No-one would want to see those still with milk teeth dying.

It was beyond nightmarish, but with the revolts, with everything that had happened here in Four and must have happened elsewhere. They had to do something to shock us fully back into submission.

I tried to avoid both of the girls as much as possible, but Annie and Frey were not to be deterred and they insisted on playing with some of my more extravagant outfits, tootling about in heels double their size. I let them, not at all concerned that they may crease some of Luine’s precious creations. Even my mood towards her, not that she had done more than send a beautifully written condolence letter had soured. She had no idea about the circumstances of Luka’s death, at least not from the looks of it.

I wouldn’t see her until I dragged whatever poor individuals had been selected for this years Quell to the Capitol.

My heart juddered and I drew myself from my nieces, dressing in my usual running wear and slipping my trainers on. “Make sure you don’t make too much of a mess.” I softly told them, taking a long moment to admire them. There was more Rita in their appearance than Luka, her dark eyes, odd in themselves in a District where blonde hair and blue eyes were the norms. “I won’t be too long,” I promised Rita on the way out, thanking and accepting the orange juice she held out. “But I’ll be with Finnick after, to just try and...”

“Digest it.” She nodded slowly, ending my sentence for me; picking at her thumb nail, “Well, we’ll be watching. The school said they have to ‘speak about the implications’ tomorrow as part of a large assembly.”

I sighed, “Of course they do.” The District would be doing everything they could to prove our loyalty to the Capitol and more importantly, President Snow. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“I won’t let them destroy your closet too much.” She promised, a dance of a smile across her face. It was as close as she came nowadays. I smiled back, plastering it wide across my cheek before I left, tugging my hair up as I started across my front lawn.

I did a couple of stretches before my feet were slamming against the sandy ground, pushing myself, going a faster pace than I would normally to try and empty my mind. By the time it was close to noon I was struggling to breathe and was a couple of miles down the coast line still. I’d lost track of time and run too far; I was paying for not warming up enough with cramping pains in one calf.

Regardless I kept my far slower jog back constant, checking my watch and seeing it was almost quarter past twelve. I doubted they would drag out any celebrations before the revelation; people wanted to know, this was a Quell, a big event, an ‘exciting’ year. Acid lifted in my throat that stung as I swallowed it as a familiar figure came into view.

If Finnick had come to find me it had to be bad.

I took a few more steps and stopped, letting him make his way over. The smile he shot me as entirely false, tensed. His cheeks were flushed. I took a shallow breath, “What did they say Finnick?” His hand rubbed over his jaw line, my worry only increased, “Finn...”

“Victors.” He all but blurted, as if the word was poison. I felt my face contort but the meaning behind the word didn’t click until he recited exactly what Snow had read up on that podium, “This year’s tributes will be ‘reaped from the remaining pool of victors. Some way of showing that even the strongest are not immune to...” His words dropped for a moment before he erupted, flung up his arms as if the words were a physical being he could destroy; tear apart with his bare hands. I cringed away from him, unconsciously taking a few backwards steps.

His anger was justified, truly justified. We were promised that if you won the games you were left alone. You got to live, to never have to return, you were immune from anything like this. I couldn’t even be shocked at my lack of reaction, I was numb. To the words, to what would follow.

The only emotion smouldering was a sudden sense of relief that my nieces were safe.

That only lasted until some statistics, until the different possible pairings began to form, even as Finnick’s chest still heaved with ragged breaths. His swearing and cursing had faded as his hands had slid over his face. He wasn’t crying. I could tell.

There were eight victors in our District. Five men, including Finnick and three women. Mags, Andromeda and myself. That beautiful sense of unfeeling ended as swiftly as it had taken over. I was overwhelmed, choking on the first coherent thought I managed.

It would have to me. Out of the female victors, the only tribute that could, would.

I would have to re-enter the arena.

I’d die in these games.

My throat was raw when we reached the Victors Village and Finnick gently, having taken my hand to finally persuade me to move off my knees, diverted me around a pile of shattered glass. They stung, my knees, the leggings I was wearing had little holes in now and I could see the spots of red.

I supposed I should get used to bleeding. I placed my free hand over my mouth to stop myself from vomiting. The glass made it clear how everyone was suffering, the shock and horror that would have engulfed all eight of the people here. That only seemed, deep within, to resonate what I had realised.

It would have to be me. That was the only way, it was fair. I had the least to lose.

I was able to control my sobbing, to force it far behind barriers until we were alone in his bedroom. The dam broke and I shattered with it, hysterical into his shoulder until I was sure that I couldn’t physically cry any more. I waited as my heart race decreased, and I could tell he was calming a little as well, the initial shock soaking in.

I just dreaded what would come next.

There was no way I would ever stand back and watch Mags died in there or have Andromeda leave her baby to face killers. It had to be me, we both knew that. His fingers caught in the tangles in my hair but we froze when there was a loud yell from outside, I wasn’t sure who it was although it sounded like Fyg. He was more of a recluse than any of us, but as I heard him break, and again I went with it.

“I hate them.” My words were one long slur, a gurgle. “I hate them.” The phrase continued, I was malfunctioning it felt like, my throat cramping. But I couldn’t stop, I was stuck in a loop, a vicious cycle. I had lost control.

I was aware of him trying to shush me, hands grasping my shoulders, trying to bring me back down, into the reality I detested, wanted to escape forever. With a jolt I was slammed onto my back, him all but straddling me, hair in unusual disarray, his own eyes red.

“It’s a third of a chance.” I aimed a thump at him that as always he caught, holding my wrist tightly and keeping me flat, his body a straight jacket over mine. “You have a third of a chance, you don’t have to go back in. Elenia, breathe...”

“Don’t.” I hiss, although there was no power in my words, no real anger, especially not at him.

“There’s three of us. But it’s me, Mags and Andromeda. There is no way I could ever let either of them go in there. You know that. It would be... absolutely despicable to let either of them go in and be slaughtered!” I tried to struggle from him feebly, feeling the itch of tears start up again. “I have to go in. You know that!”

“It’s just thirty-three percent.” I don’t know how he seemed so calm, resolved. It only made me angrier and I managed to move suddenly, tearing myself from his grasp and spilling onto the floor, staggering to my feet, the sobs were an ache under my ribs.

“And you would want to see Mags in there?! You know full well she wouldn’t even last....”

“Don't you dare.” He growled, jumping to his feet and I froze instantly, heart shuddering to a standstill. My mouth formed that usual apology; that was too cruel, too far. It was true though, he had to know that. He shook it off with a huff, running his hand again through his messy hair. “Don’t ever say something like that.”

The look on his face hurt. I could almost feel the dagger held by the girl from Two, Malen, slicing through my gut and gasped on the pain, ending as always with weak tears running down my face. But gently, my hand trying to muffle them and the noise that came with it.

That was it, wasn’t it? I had two months if I waited if I truly tried in there. It didn’t matter, I had no chance of winning.

“I can’t win.” My voice was high and scratchy, “But it has to me be me that goes in.” He was staring hard through me and I took a cautious step towards him. “No, it doesn’t.” He’d lost the rage in his words and they felt childish.

“Yes, it does Finn.” He met my eyes, although he didn’t smile at his nickname. “You know that.”

Mags was an idol in the District, everyone loved her. I loved her and I would not watch her die.

Andromeda had a family, she’d managed to move on from the horrors of it all. I hadn't, I had the least to lose, the least damage would be caused to others if it was me. I nodded to myself again, words caught on my dry tongue. I waited for some response, for Finnick to magic up some way to avoid this whole situation, for him to turn around and tell me this was the worst joke imaginable. He said nothing and I left, carefully counting between my breaths and sneaking into my own home through the back door. Rita must have heard me on the steps but she didn’t say anything. I could hear the girls reading in the living room, no doubt the meaning of the words they would have to memorise for school had alluded them so far.

I half stumbled up and into the main bathroom, sliding the bolt across the heavy door. Running through the list of steps for a bath, letting them consume me as I followed the instructions I had set out clearly. Wait until the water was hot enough and then place the plug down. Run in the white liquid Luine forced on me, and then the pink. Grab a razor from the cabinet, undo and brush my hair before sliding in, placing the green exfoliating rock on the side next to me.

It was too hot, the water, stinging across my torso but it was necessary.

I had to think. But all I could feel was every injury I’d suffered before reopening, happening again. Each blink sent me back there, Tyger dangling from my hands. Switching places with my brothers and Finnick.

Who else could it be? Who else would enter?

I didn’t even want to work it out, let them creep into my mind. I lashed out suddenly with another screech and my arm slammed against the glass protector, the smash loud, glass splaying over the tiles. I was bleeding on my forearm, a long cut, the blood diluted by the water, a red smear blending in with the oils. Soon I’d be nothing. The temptation to find my way there quicker was there, an itch sinking into my brain as the water set to boil me alive. But that was it, I was weak.

What would Luka want? What would Tyger, everyone who had died in there before and after me want?

Not to let the Capitol win. But then, someone else would have to go in if I didn’t, it wouldn’t change it.

I couldn’t let them lose Mags. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t. I wasn’t even aware what I was yelling anymore if it was even comprehensible. I shouted until my throat couldn’t cope anymore, until my body was red from the effort, the heat and the blood.

I was left shuddering in the slowly cooling pool.

Rita called a healer to stitch my arm.

I hardly felt it, the smell of the alcohol was more offensive than the needle forcing its way through my skin. “I just fell.” I lied again, pointlessly, the pain was written all over my face. I wasn’t sure my nieces even believed me. “But you’re okay now.” Annie offered unhelpfully, lower lip jutting out at the glare from her mother, demands they leave us to it.

“It was stupid is what it was.” She spat, “So stupid and selfish...”

“Like it makes any difference now Rita.” She tore her hand from mine, pacing back and forth until the healer was done and Rita overpaid her for her help and her ‘discretion’. I almost laughed, word of my breakdown would be across the District in days. They would be expecting it, waiting for news from their again doomed Victors, but thankful in a way that it meant their children were safe. At least their children were safe for another year.

“Where are Finnick and Mags? Have you seen them?” I asked gently, taking another long sip of water to soothe my throat, every syllable hurt.

“At his house.” She answered, still furious, “Dealing with it in a sensible way.”

“By ignoring it.” I countered, looking at the pristine bandage around my arm. It hadn’t been deep, the healer just stitched it to avoid any chance of an infection setting in. “Don’t.” She caught it, making me wince, “Don’t lose your mind and...”

“I think I already did that.” My reply was blank and she exhaled sharply.

“You know what I mean, you react like that.” She squeezed harder before dropping it, “And then suddenly an hour later you’re as if nothing has happened, as if it’s all perfectly fine.” I ran my tongue over my teeth, “That’s far worse than any reaction I would have expected, you have barely spoken for the last six weeks and now you what, try to kill yourself like some sort of coward?”

“I thought you wanted me to speak.” There was another smash as a plate met the wall and I jumped, fingers clutching the edge of the table tightly.

“You know what, you’re right.” She laughed bitterly and falsely, “Is that what you want to hear? You’re right to completely give up already, that makes perfect sense Elenia...your brother didn’t die for...”

I was already up on my feet, every muscle tensed. “Don’t you dare try and use what he did against me. He didn’t do it for me.”

“Of course he did! He died because of you!” She shrieked, “Since I have known him, since you came back it has picked at him what happened to you! Of course it was more for you than anyone! You were always just too selfish and self-absorbed to ever realised other people suffered about it all!”

“Oh,” Anger flashed through me in pulses, “that’s funny, I don’t remember you being in the games Rita!” I was panting, my feet in the perfect stance for an attack that Tyger had taught me in the training center, once an alliance was agreed upon. “I don’t remember you at any point having to kill people; watch them die and spend every single second sure you were going to die as well!”

“I am sorry for what you went through, you know that.” She huffed, deflating only a little, “But you won, you came back to riches and admiration and Seneca Crane." She spat his name, saliva caught in specks on my arms.

Rita was practically shaking, “My husband did not die for you to just give up, that would kill him all over again.” She ended in a whisper and I shook my head at her, my arm was finally starting to hurt, heart was racing, blood pounding around my body violently as I left the house, my own hands quivering.

He died because of you.

I started off towards the small pool of water but stopped in the centre of the path, close to a small palm tree. Fuck her. I didn’t let myself hit out again. It wasn’t like it changed or solved a thing. I couldn’t do it again, it wasn’t fair. I changed my destination several times in the next few seconds, gradually settling and turning. Finnick was already there, standing silently in his doorway, the flickering light behind him silhouetted him.

I sighed, a loose stone on the ground dug into my foot and I groaned, anger simmering that I forced back down, taking it out by digging my nails into my palms once again. “Can I come in?” I sounded like an old woman who had smoked for most of her life.

“I could hear you and Rita.” I didn’t have an answer for him, “You want to talk about it?” I shook my head. Why, in every situation was he utterly perfect at handling it? “Mags is asleep. She doesn’t seem too worried luckily.”

Maybe she knew there was no way it would be her. Or maybe she hoped it would be.

“Good.” I sucked on my lower lip, “That’s good.”

“Yeah.” He trailed off a little awkwardly, and I caught his eyes on my arm.

“It’s not too bad.” I rushed and he seemed to struggled to meet mine again, shrugging but moving aside to let me in, the door closing with a soft click behind me.