VENUS《 FINNICK ODAIR

Chapter 66. HERE WE ARE AGAIN.

T/W: Self harm, violence.

HER REFLECTION GLARED BACK WITH GLINTING FANGS. Blind to the galaxy of flicked toothpaste and water splattered against her mirror, Edith dared the sallow skinned woman before her to splash water onto her face. The reflection obliged, as usual with malice, knowing that listening to the voice in her head was inevitably what got her through these past few months.

Get out of bed, wash your face, clean your teeth, eat something, train, write and spend every last moment with the people you love in the place you call home - pretending that despite gorging on the delicacy - that overindulging in such a rich meal won't leave you spitting it up in reconstituted bile come Reaping Day.

Tomorrow she'd be picked out of that bowl. Or volounteer. Either or it was the same fate. She was going to get Katniss and Peeta out of there. Get them out, and she could save both Woof and Johanna. Finnick... he didn't need her help. She needed to remember that.

That morning she had written her last diary entry before she even got out of bed. Writing was a solace, listening to Woof worked.

Her family either had work or school that morning, with Cecelia and Woof spending time together. They all planned to meet in the afternoon, which left Edith with the morning to fester in dread like she did most of this month. Before Summer came by, she didnt realise how invincible she felt. The heat only brought on a sickening dread that she, her home and everyone she loved might disappear and it could all be her fault.

So ritually, Edith put herself to work. That morning she cleaned her room, made her bed, and collated diary entries into a clean cardboard folder, adding her final submission from earlier that morning.

In the end she was just left overwhelmed at the state of her bathroom, which had become the eye of an ongoing storm - mold lingering in odd corners and splatters staining the counter top. Suprisingly the floor was clean of clothes, she had been on top of that at least. She had neglected the state of her bathroom just as she neglected her sanity these past few months.

Mundanely, with nothing much to do but write, train and grieve - her and Woof were quite prepared for tomorrow. Muscle equipped and with a new penchant for avoiding mania, Woof would still have to pretend he was older in mind than age, but they were both physically ready as they could be. Mentally - there were at least attempts made on Edith's part. You can't fault a lack of result for not trying.

Edith could hit targets while running, she could set traps, name all the foreign plants again, and was ready to outrun the world. Woof had managed to strengthen his walking strength to not depend on his cane anymore, and was now in control of his panic attacks and nightmares. Edith couldn't say the same for her nightmares, but then again, she wasn't going to be sleeping much in the arena.

She splashed her face with water again.

Her lips were chapped and red raw.

Skin flayed.

Bleak and belittled.

Attempting to pick at herself, she realised she had been standing in front of her mirror for nearly twenty minutes, tearing at the skin beside her fingers, picking at bumps on her chin and feeling the textural differences between her bare flesh, to her scars and discoloured skin like she was picking petals off a dying flower bud.

This morning was going so slow, yet so quick. She felt these past few months had just been a whole lot of nothing. Waiting for her death. Waiting to see Johanna and Finnick again. Waiting for answers from Plutarch. Soaking up every last moment she had with her family even if she had no space left to keep it on rotation. The past few months were like navigating in the dark with sleep lined eyes, and in that moment, she felt herself wake.