❖ Book 1 of 3 ❖
【 Slow burn fanfic 】
║ A Prequel to the Hunger Games Trilogy ║
Isla Dunne of District 4 was a career. She had trained her whole life for the Hunger Games, an annual event held by the Capitol. A blood bath where 2 children, ages 12-18...
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ISLA'S MOTHER PASSED away the morning of the reaping. Isla had run to Finnick's house the day she had found the wilted rose, and he explained that her theory had been so far from the truth. Finnick was trying to warn her of the risks of declining President Snow's offer, not encouraging her to take his place. He hadn't been able to outright say what he wanted to because the Capitol was always listening. He couldn't tell her it was not uncommon for the President to murder the family of victors at the first sign of disobedience.
Lucky for Amelia, President Snow couldn't hurt her, despite her being the second closest person to Isla. Amelia was already hurting Isla, as she had volunteered for the games. As for Isla's father, she held a special hatred for him now. It was he who trained her to participate in the games, to win and become a victor. And because of him, she was put in the position that ended her mother's life. Because of him, he only now had a shell of a daughter and a dead wife.
He almost immediately moved out of Victor's Village after Isla had an outburst at him when her mother's health began to decline at an extreme rate. She told him it was all his fault, and let him take the money the government had given them for her mother's death. Isla wanted nothing to do with the money stained with her mother's blood. Her father could have it, to think about what his actions had caused.
Despite the death of her mother, Isla still had to board the train to the Capitol, along with Amelia, a small boy named Flynn, Fleur, and Finnick. Isla couldn't explain to Amelia the true details of her mother's illness or death before the reaping, due to the listening ears of the Capitol.
She would have to wait to tell Amelia. Tell her if she won the games, and give her a better warning than Finnick had given herself.
Amelia seemed to stand a fair chance, her competition not much unlike what Isla's had been in her games. She devoted her time, when not spent being interviewed by Caesar or shooting clothes for catalogues, to Amelia's preparation for the games. Isla couldn't emphasize enough to Lucius how important it was that he made Amelia stand out and gain sponsors.
Everything seemed to be going well, and Amelia had been welcomed quickly into the career pack. Mostly thanks to Isla's success the year before. However, Flynn, the small boy that had been reaped instead of volunteering, was not. Luckily, Amelia felt no obligation to him, and separated herself immediately when training started. He hadn't stood a chance, but Isla felt a small pang in her chest when he died in the initial bloodbath of the games. Amelia, on the other hand, was set up just as well as Isla had been. Her only competition being a girl from an outlying district that somehow received an eleven for her score. It was almost too perfect.
And too perfect it was. Isla could only scream at the screen as Amelia lay sleeping under the tree that the careers had driven Katniss Everdeen, the tribute from District Twelve that was causing ripples across the country with her high score and costumes, up. The girl on fire was cutting down a branch that held a tracker-jacker nest attached to it. It hung directly above Amelia and her allies. Amelia didn't wake up no matter how hard Isla tried to will her to. She had warned her friend to always have someone on watch, no matter how comfortable they felt. Amelia clearly hadn't listened.
The tracker jackers killed two careers, the District One female and Amelia, who had wondered as far away from the wasps as she could before collapsing in a fit of spasms. Isla couldn't look away as she watched in horror as her best friend suffered what had to be one of the most torturous ways to die. Finnick turned the television off, gripping Isla tightly in his chest as she broke down into sobs.
Katniss Everdeen had murdered her best friend. And to make matters worse, she won, alongside her district partner in a rebellious act involving berries. As if it couldn't get any more sadistic, Katniss chose designing clothes as her talent as a victor. Although, Isla felt the designs may have been more the works of Katniss' stylist, Cinna, than her own. And Isla, being a model for the Capitol, was the first to be asked to wear her designs in the catalogue. President Snow himself endorsed the idea, giving her no choice but to comply.
Everything in her life had been ripped from her grasp. Becoming a victor had taken away all that had mattered to her. And her mental state declined, even worse than Annie, Finnick would try to tell Mags. He told her that Isla was worse, because she didn't cry, or scream, or act out. She didn't even have random emotions like Annie was at least capable of. And this scared Finnick, causing Mags to take care of Isla during the winter months. But Isla ignored the elderly woman's attempts to get her to move out from behind the desk in the study of her too large, and too empty, mansion. Her eyes remained trained on the wilted rose that had nearly evaporated into dust on the wood surface.
