FRAGILE GIRL || THE HUNGER GAMES ¹

4.

"JUST KEEP WALKING, ATHENA..."

---¤☆¤---

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, nerves nipped at her as she peers through the shaded window, watching the two kids interact with each other. It looked like they had bonded over jello. Poking at it and giggling as it shakes. Mercy Owen and Jacob Hardy. Mercy and Jacob. Tribute one and tribute two. Looking at Klaus for some guidance, he nods at her, motioning for her to enter the room.

"Go on now." He mutters, "Don't get all shy now."

Pressing the keypad, the door slides open, the shrilled chatting of Celia filling the uneasy air. It was the same speech she had received last year when she was in their shoes. About how lucky they were to be picked. How everything in here was for them to do whatever they felt like. How their mentor was going to help them win, just like last year.

"Um, hi? I'm Athena, Athena Grey. I won last years games⎯" She squeaks, making her presence known.

"I know who you are." Jacob states, turning his eyes onto her. "You are the only thing everyone's been talking about."

"I⎯" Athena mutters, all of her confidence dying.

"Are you going to help us?" Mercy asks, a hopeful tone to her voice.

"I⎯I guess?" Athena squeaks, shifting her eyes low.

Nudging her with his elbow, she looks up at Klaus, all of her fake confidence completely melted away at the sight of his blank face. How was she supposed to do this? Klaus was right, she got lucky. She was lucky to even make it out last time. How was she supposed to help them when she got so lucky?

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, the faint taste of blood lingers in her mouth making her cringe at the taste. Gross. Mega gross. Crinkling her nose in disgust, she immediately stops chewing on the inside of her cheek, not wanting to taste anymore blood. It reminded her of⎯the past.

"Okay, let's get this situation taken care of." Klaus butts in, "I am Klaus, or Klaudius. Both of us will help you."

"Yeah.." Athena whispers, nodding her head in agreement.

"Good. Now, let's all sit down and talk about your skills, okay?" He asks, looking at them for any signs of protest.

Patting her on the back, he gently pushes her forward, motioning for her to step further in the room. Letting out the lightest whine of protest, her hands clam up, as she tries to fight back. She knew she had to help them. But, it didn't mean that she liked it. What was she even supposed to say? She got lucky. Really lucky. Everything just kinda happened.

"Klaus.." She hisses, shooting him a look of displeasure.

"Not a word, Athena. You cannot avoid this forever." He scolds, "This is what life is going to be like from now on. I won't be able to help you out all the time."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she lightly pouts at the scolding, lowering her head. She wasn't being unreasonable. At least, she didn't think she was. She just⎯She just didn't feel completely comfortable doing this. Was that so selfish of her? Was it really? Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she steps inside the room, her hands gripping onto the sides of her shirt. The silky material stained with her sweat.

"It's cruel and you can hate me for it. But, I'm teaching you the way I was taught." He explains, placing a hand on her shoulder.

---¤𖠁¤---

"My baby, my baby." She sobs, petting the young boy's blood soaked hair. "Oh, Samson, my baby."

Flinching at the sight of the heartbreaking scene, I turned my head away from the screen, shutting my eyes tightly. I had refused to watch the family reunions. But, it was all that was on. Every other show or whatever they usually played was gone. Just videos of my games. Just videos of my face⎯plastered onto every screen in the Capitol. I hated it.

So many people are watching me. Watching me kill. Watching me cry. Watching me parade around like an object. I hated it. I didn't want to admit it, but the more I think⎯the more I was forced to face reality. I was just an object in their eyes. Something they could dress up whenever they wanted. Something they could play with.

"Is it as amazing as they always say?" Mercy asks, breaking me from my stare.

"Hmm?" I ask, turning my head to her.

"They..I hear about how amazing it is⎯nevermind forget it." She whispers, her hands tightly gripping the pillow in her hand.

Staring at her blankly, I don't know what to say to her, even if I did? What would I even say? 'Oh winning is the best thing to happen to me! I get to live everyday knowing that I killed my way out of the Arena! I highly recommend it, Mercy!'  Yeah, right. I couldn't do that. Klaus would kill me.

Tucking my legs to my chest, I glance up to the TV, a video of me wiping splatters of blood off my face playing. Flinching at the sight, I turn away from it, trying to block out the horrid feeling of warm blood on my face. The overbearing smell of metal. It's not real. It's not real.

"I don't want to say something that will make you not want to win." I argue, trying to change the subject.

"Nothing you can say can make this worse. I'm already going into hell." She argues, staring at me with big hopeful eyes.

"I⎯I don't like it." I whisper, "I just wanted to go home."

She doesn't respond and I'm thankful for it.

"That's how it all started⎯with me wanting to go back home." I explain, "It's not easy. You..You have to do things⎯horrible things."

"Kill." She whispers, her voice so light I almost didn't hear it.

"It's not just about killing. There's more to it. You have to betray people for your own survival. Lose a part of yourself doing that." I continue, "I..I am not the girl I once was, Mercy. I don't think I ever will be. And worse.."

Lowering my eyes to the couch, I trace the floral designs with my eyes, printed poppies and daisies. Some baby breaths. I liked daisies. I'd see some grow in the fields. I'd sometimes make daisy chains for the cattle. Braiding some into the horse's mane. I was really bad at it, but it was always fun to watch the farmers shake their heads at the sight.

Feeling her eyes drill into the side of my head, I chew on the inside of my cheek, wondering if I should continue. If I keep talking she might just give up in the Games⎯just completely check out. But, she might just not care. Or even use my words as motivation. I don't know.

"If you can't cope, the guilt gets to you." I pause, "Then, you're dead."

"How have you been coping?" She asks, her voice soft.

"I haven't. Not really." I stare at her, "Some advice from someone who went through hell, whatever you do, don't make friends. It only hurts you in the end."

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And I am done with the chapter! Stay safe out there guys!

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