Worth it | F.O.

III

Later on the day of the reaping of an innocent soul and an equally as cold one, the latter was seated in a room of extravagant fabrics more so than she had ever truly seen, leaning back without a single care in the world.

As usual she was alone in there, surrounded by finery to the point she had never seen, even in her first home. The walls, the floors, everything there had been a plain gray when, instead, here, she was surrounded by color. It splashed against the fabrics with a startling sign of something most of those in the district could not hope to afford, instead left with browns and grays, the occasional black to be found on special occasions.

This room had everything one could hope for, something that truly showed how well compensated the mayor was for their loyalty to the Capitol and willingness of the mild slaughter of their people for petty crimes. Said petty crimes should not have been considered crimes at all if one really thought about it. But it was the way it was.

There were deep blue velvety curtains strung up in a perfect kind of way before the expansive windows filled with more glass than any one person had in their home, what looked to be gold adorning it's decorative tassels and the bar that held it to the wall. Most other metals reflected that statement though there was the occasional silver to be seen amidst other brilliant shades of red that seemed akin to the blood poured upon the land visible through the windows.

It was quite a sight, she had to admit. Even if she had seen these very same fields and orchards most days for what, nine years now? It never looked quite as magnificent as it did now. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or the extravagance of it all but the greens were deeper and the yellows seemed brighter, even as brilliant as the sun she'd dare to say.

She found herself despising the mere thought of beauty in a clearly beautiful land. After all, if she were to be completely honest even if it wasn't too hard to figure out, it only remained so because she and so many others were forced to tend to them year after year. They received nearly nothing from their efforts and, sometimes, deaths. If someone were to attempt to take some fruit from their labor, sometimes literally as they swiped an apple or something of the kind, then they'd be beaten to death.

They lived a harsh life out here and so she pondered how they remained so strong and kind, how they remained a unified family through it all as she had noted before. Even though they were starving, when Nivea showed up out of the blue one day seemingly lost and afraid they took her in and proceeded to care for her very well-being up until then when a sacrifice was needed to be made for a better future. District 13 had been wise to send her to such a place unified by the bonds of peril.

But there was something else about the paragraph before this one. She found a bit of humor in the better future they wished for. From what she had heard before, their idea of a better future was not something they'd dare to set on too extravagantly.

They simply wished for more food for the children, better schooling when they were allowed to do so, and the protection of a young and seasoned Victor such as herself if she were to make it. What they didn't know was that her thoughts were not aligned with theirs, as her idea of a better future was more along the lines of a changed Capitol ruled by none other than the one she owed everything to.

Nivea, despite her surroundings and how she ran over plans in her mind, began to grow bored the longer she sat there in silence with only empty extravagance for company. No matter how many times she ran through how she would outmaneuver a career and sink her weapon of choice into their chest or throat, nothing could help it. She had even taken to humming to fill the silence, lips occasionally moving to form silent words of the song or further help solidify her plans. Her mind was filled with images of death and destruction caused by her hands.