My Morphling ; Finnick Odair

𝓈𝒾𝓍

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It was hard. It was the hardest thing I've ever, ever done. Looking into the eyes of the families who's lives I have ruined. Looking into the eyes of the countless people pretending to be happy for me, when all they feel is vengeance and hatred towards me, for killing their children. 

But it shouldn't be me. It shouldn't be me they're angry at. 

It should be the President

It should be the Gamemakers 

It should be the very twisted minds behind the yearly games. 

I received nothing but cold smiles and blank stares from District 2 and 3. Of course, if I had died, one of the more career-like tributes would have likely taken my place. Yes, being in District 4 classes me as a Career, but not as privileged and strong as District 1. They were the worst, and the angriest. I mean, they do spend their whole lives prepping for the games and only the games. 

However, when I arrived at District 11, the atmosphere was completely different to what I had previously been experiencing. 

On two small stages towards the back of the crowd, stood the families of the tributes. Although, I had no encounter with the male tribute from 11, Branch, his family, along with every other person in the crowd looked up at me with the most utmost respect. Their eyes pleading and hopeful. 

I've earned their respect by showing compassion for their youngest ever tribute.

I did plan on what to say. But, in that moment, all my plans had left my head, so I relied on my improvisational skills instead.

I felt pressured. Pressured because in the short amount of time I had come to know Fern, she had taken up a place in my heart, and I can never repay her for what she did in that arena.

"I didn't know your tributes very well. Well, I didn't know Branch at all, actually. But I did know Fern. And the couple of hours I was lucky to spend with her, every second felt like a year. She saved my life, and I could never, ever repay her for doing so. Without Fern, I wouldn't be standing here today. Without her, I'd have been sent home in a black box, just like she was."

"Yes, Fern is no longer with us. She can no longer spend time with her sister, who I've been told resembles me. She can no longer brighten up someone's day with her innocent smile. Much like my dear brother... everything which she had the right to has been snatched away from her."

"But I still see her. Not only in my dreams. I also see her in my own sister, Cordelia. I see her in the tiny meadow we have back at District 4. Just last week, I asked Cordelia to wash my hair, so I could imagine fern's fingers running through it again. Imagine her youthful, perky voice as she spoke with no doubt that I would use her trust to my advantage."

"I wish I could do more for you. I wish I could bring her back. I'm sure you all do too. But, but the most I can do is make a request. A very important request. If I don't, then I wouldn't be repaying your child at all."

"Please, never, ever forget her. But when you remember her, don't recall her smile with sadness. Don't look back at your memories with tears. Look back with pride. With fondness and happiness. Because in reality, I'm not the Victor, she is. She is a Victor, a winner, a savior, and even more."

The audience grew silent, but then I heard loud clapping. I didn't think it was possible, but I was being looked up to with even more respect than before. 

That's when I saw it. 

A girl around my age, who I'm guessing is Fern's sister, pressed her three middle fingers of her left hand to her lips and then held them out to me. She was then followed by every single person in the crowd. From young to old, male and female, wealthy and poor, they all held out a three finger salute to me. For me. Or for Fern. Or for us both.