the cage is open. you can walk out anytime you want. why are you still here?
.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡*∞*⍋⋆*❅｡.
the hunger games
catching fire-mockingjay, part ii
cover by sullenstars
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.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡*∞*⍋⋆*❅｡.
make me evil, then i'm an angel instead;
at least you'll sanctify me when i'm dead.
.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡*∞*⍋⋆*❅｡.
ASTORIA MCKINNON wonders what it's like to breathe.
On days when the world is too quiet, when she can hear the reel of screams replaying in her head and all she feels is the weight of the cross she bears, she climbs up the tree in her backyard. She takes a deep breath and tries to remember what life was like before hers was stolen. And for one second, Astoria can breathe. When the second passes, she begins to suffocate again.
It's a vicious cycle—a habit Astoria took up at the age of eighteen, when she won the 69th Hunger Games. (When she became a murderer in all the ways that mattered.) Maybe a part of her thinks suffocating herself will cancel out the lives she's taken. As if dying will give life back to the ghosts that haunt her. As if dying will end all her pain, erase all her wrongs, free her from the game she's been forced to play for years.
But even in death, President Snow would come for Astoria. Her death would not end the cycle. It won't end until the Capitol is in ashes and Snow is burning in the middle of the flames. It won't end until Astoria is no longer a pawn to be played with. It won't end until she can love someone without fear of them dying. Until she can finally forget the name of the sacrifice who made her a Victor.
