Lost at Sea || Finnick Odair x OC (DISCONTINUED)

Fifty-Two: bitches be dead

DAPHNE

°•. ✿ .•°

I don't think I properly judged just how hard this was going to be.

Something about this arena feels as though it's both in my favor, yet set up to completely destroy any sanity I may have retained. I'm thankful for the water, since I've always been good at navigating that. Katniss was clearly utterly shocked to see that I had been in the cornucopia for a while before she was. It's almost comforting to know that if Haymitch hadn't enlisted me in this revolution, I could've taken her out.

But that's what makes me feel so disgusting. I mean, I murdered a man without any hesitation. How could I do that? At least last time, I thought things out, planned my kills, paid my respects. This time, I simply threw a trident into his chest, picked it up, and carried on.

The looming jungle doesn't make me feel any better. It's definitely different from my old mangrove, but almost the same. All too familiar, all too disorienting. I keep splitting between worlds almost, walking on two separate planes. I was swimming in the water to fetch Peeta, but I blinked, and suddenly, I was swimming in the water while Kore distracted a crocodile.

It's obvious that I'm not doing very well. Katniss is really bad at acting, so it's obvious that she either doesn't trust me, or knows what's wrong with me, or both. Haymitch told us that she and Peeta watched tapes of old Games to study the tributes, which means they likely saw mine. Did they see the people I killed? The people I protected? The way that I was entirely out of my body for four whole days?

I can't afford to have that happen again. I can't afford for my mind and body to walk separately, to split my world into two once more. I can't afford to dive within the past, walk in the present, soar in the future. Peeta and Katniss's lives depend on it. The rebellion depends on it. I have to get it together.

The jungle is dense, hot, and humid. I can feel perspiration clinging to my skin, already soaking my jumpsuit. Finnick is right beside me, armed with three tridents. I've got two nets and a trident. I was disappointed that the cornucopia didn't have anything else, like food or medecine, or fresh water, but I wasn't exactly surprised. It's a Quarter Quell, and we all have enough experience to get our own water or food, enough sponsors for our own medicine.

Peeta takes the lead, slashing through the brush with a large knife of his. It's identical to the one that Neptune planted in my side, and every time he slashes it, I just imagine it slipping once, and landing right in my side again.

Finnick and I walk side-by-side behind Peeta, letting Katniss bring up the rear. Her arrows are better suited to the jungle, though my nets aren't to be messed with. Along the way, I gather several vines and make Finnick carry them in case we need to make a trap, a pulley to lift the others, or a noose.

Unfortunately, our tridents aren't very suited for terrain such as this. I don't doubt that we'll be deadly with them, but right now, Katniss and Peeta have the most ideal weapons.

We travel uphill for nearly half an hour before I request a break. Not because any of us are particular tired- we can keep going- but my brain can't take much more. We haven't stopped moving this entire time, and I haven't gotten even a single second to stop and breathe.

"I-I'm sorry." I mutter as I lean against a tree. Katniss eyes me, though I can't tell if she's pitying me or studying how long it'd take to plant an arrow in my heart. Likely both.