A Rebellious Spirit | Book III

Chapter Eleven | Return to the Slaughter House

[AUTHORS NOTE]

Here's the turning point I've been working towards for the past book and a half! Be sure to listen to the beautiful instrumental of the Hanging Tree (not official, but I wish it was) as you read it!

In the comments be sure to tell me what you think! I really love reading comments and engaging in conversation with you guys! Silent readers I love you too! But really, I don't bite!

Stay classy and enjoy!

_____

Quinn stood in her kitchen, her stomach was still doing flips. She had managed to brush her hair and use the right combination of water and hairspray to make it look...manageable. She wore a knee length blue dress that she had gotten from the batch of clothes that had been put in her house. It was dark blue, with thin straps going over her shoulders. Then she wore a simple pair of black sandals, with simple makeup that she had learned to do while she lived in the Capitol. There was a much different feeling this year, going into the Reaping...the tension and fear was practically tangible.

During her reaping, she had been terrified. But she had only had bad luck that day, this year it wasn't just luck. Because the pool of options in Four and in the pool of mentors in the Capitol weren't all that big. So Quinn simply stood in her kitchen, taking it all in. The odds weren't in her favour the last time and they definitely weren't this time. So for the nights in the arena, if she was there, she wanted to think of something familiar.

Quinn jumped a bit and her stomach dropped at the sound of a steady knock on her door. She didn't move for a moment, she stood there for another moment...she could have ran earlier that morning when she was at the lake. But she had promised Finnick. Besides that, she couldn't leave him a second time with no warning.

So at the sound of another knock she turned on her heal and swiftly made her way towards the door, looking at everything as she passed it-- for once, she appreciated it all. And as soon as she pulled open the door to reveal two peacekeepers waiting at her door, she wanted to turn and just sink back into her house. But two peacekeepers were already standing by each Mags and Annie. Waiting for her. So Quinn walked between the two of them and kept her eyes on the ground. Neither of them made a big effort to look at each other. What were they supposed to say? Good luck, hope you don't get reaped? Because in all honesty, none of them wanted to be the unlucky one. And they all felt guilty because they would rather someone else got reaped instead of them.

The group made their way to Finnick's house, and her didn't take as long as Quinn had. It was like he had been waiting by the door for the peacekeepers. The four of them were lead through the streets, most of the citizens of Four were already waiting in the square. They were then all led through the crowd toward the stage, and then Finnick took his side-- he was all alone on the boys side. While the three girls all took their place on the other side. Quinn's eyes didn't leave the glass dish with three names inside of it until after the propaganda video ended-- showing the so called ruins of Thirteen.

Then Mayor Griffith made the usual speech about how much the District would be honored to be represented by the tributes. Then, once he stepped aside, a woman Quinn had given little to no thought of stepped out of the Justice Hall. Her hair was bleached white, and she had seashell accessories in her curled hair. She wore a light, pastel green dress, with high heels that Quinn would have broken her ankles with if she tried wearing them.

Remilda Swan stood before the mic, the same one that she had the year Quinn have been chosen. Her eyes however didn't falter from looking out at the big sea of people watching.

"Welcome, welcome," her voice rose and fell with each syllable as it always had. "It is a pleasure for me to be able to stand before you and help you congratulate your Victors'..." she said lightly, gesturing to Finnick first, and then to the girls side. Her eyes scanned all three of them, landing on Quinn but only for a millisecond. "Who will be representing District Four in the Third Quarter Quell." she finished as she clapped her hands together. And then let out a long sigh, "Ladies first,"

Remilda turned and took a few steps towards the glass bowl and mixed the names around a bit. Quinn could feel her stomach churning, and she felt like her heart was beating ten times faster than it should have been, and on top of them she felt like she couldn't breathe, and her palms were sweating. She rung her hands together behind her as she waited. Quinn watched Remilda pick up a name, and hold it tightly in her hands as she turned towards the mic again.

Quinn felt a light touch on her arm, she glanced down to see Mags. A few stray tears running down her cheeks, but she still forced herself to try to show Quinn a reassuring smile.

"And the female tribute for District Four is..." Remilda paused, and with a long sigh she read out the name. "Annie Cresta!" she said in a voice full of fake sarcasm.

A wimp cry escaped Annie's lips as she frantically looked for an exit. Quinn could already see a break coming, and her eyes looked past Annie towards Finnick who wasn't looking at Annie but at Quinn.

Quinn took a deep breath and began to raise her hand, but as she did, Mags quickly grabbed her arm. Pulling her back and taking a step forward and her arm shooting up in the air while she pointed to herself with the other. Quinn stared at her, then her eyes moved to Annie-- and as guilty as she felt about it, she let out a sigh of relief. She had gotten past the reaping.

She stepped to the side, putting a hand on Annie's arm as if it would make her feel any better.

"Annie, it's okay..." she whispered as Remilda officially introduced Mags as the female tribute.

"Now for the boys..." Quinn could hear Remildas voice soften as she turned towards the bowl with a single name on it. She didn't even hesitate before picking it up, there was no point in it. "The male tribute is," she paused, "Finnick Odair!"

Quinn felt sick to her stomach.

Mags and Finnick.

They had already escaped the slaughter. Now they were being sent back. Like baby pigs who were sent away only to return to the slaughter house when they bigger and had more to lose.