Never In Your Favour

Tides turning

I found it sick and twisted how so many children's deaths had been televised already. Parents watching the blood of their worlds cover the Capitol cameras. I pictured the face of the sadistic head game maker, laughing as he watched his victims become torn apart by the evil twists of his mind. That girl from district six had come to realise she was nothing more than a Capitol pawn, and in her last moments she rebelled, as she went up in flames. Flames like those spread. I wondered how long it would be before the flame of rebellion spread once more, from a girl on fire.
That day, Finnick sat, sharpening his spear with a rough stone. While making his way through a thicket, he scraped his arm on a bramble, and the blood flowed freely. With another wink, he swiftly removed his shirt, and used it as a binding around the wound. He looked breathtaking, but it made my skin crawl to think how much he was playing into the Desire of the Capitol. I hated how the cameras devoted more time to his muscles than they did to any other tribute. I hated Caesar's constant comments on how he clearly worked out and was one to watch, because 'let's face it, he's too good looking not to watch!'.
At this point, I was intrigued by the progress of district ten. They never normally lasted this long in the competition. The medicine had worked wonders on most of the girl's injuries, but there was still a nasty burn on her face that the cornucopia medicine hadn't been able to cure. This was the reason that the boy decided to see if anything was salvageable from the cornucopia, although many of the resources had been incinerated in the events of the previous night.
The boy from District seven had had to relent after seeing his former allies die, and had approached the cornucopia in search of food. Seeing his skill with a bow and arrow, the district two girl, Freya, invited Darius to join her and the male from district one, Dahg. They were all eighteen, and clearly a fiercely strong group, even though Dahg was still in a state of profound shock: something unusual for a career tribute.
The girl from eight and the boy from nine were still a fairly strong team, and were gathering as much forgeable food as they were able to, and had even teamed up with the boy from District five. Stockpiling teams generally did well in the games. Of course, there was only one victor.
The boy from eleven was still high above the trees, waiting patiently for a victim to the Snares to arrive. He only hopes it would be Finnick Odair, the boy he was sure had killed his partner.
We were now approaching the week long mark of the games, which would mark the usual feast. The cornucopia was always restocked at this point, and it was another exciting bloodbath for the Capitol. This was clearly the event that Guinevere was preparing for, as she sharpened stick after stick into sharp throwing spears that evening.
The girl from seven stood with an open mouth, letting the rain water refresh her as she remained heavily camouflaged.
Finally, the girl from three, after seeing the brutal murder of her partner, was on a determined search for Finnick, wanting to avenge her district. I only hoped she would be unsuccessful.
That night, for the first time in the duration of the games, not a single face illuminated the sky as the anthem played.

~~

The following day appeared to be bitterly cold, as tributes shivered and their breath came in clouds from their mouths.
Finnick was murmuring in his half-sleep state of the early morning.
'It'll be ok. I'll be ok, love.'
The camera of course cut to the obnoxious Caesar Flickerman.
'Well that was an unexpected twist. We knew he had a special girl at home, but love? Now that is something! If only we knew the girl's name! I hope his feelings are keeping him warm... it looks like a cold day out there!'
Give him a trident and he'd win.
Give him the waves on the coast back home and he'd win.
Give him a chilacro and he'd win.
Give him back to me and my heart would win.
Fuck Snow and everything he stands for.
In the light of the cold early morning, Guinevere Barrow stumbled along the river bank. She ran her fingers over smooth stone and moss. Her coat, she realised, was in her backpack, so she stopped for a moment, laying down her spear next to a nearby boulder to remove it and put it on.
In a Flash, the camouflaged district seven girl leapt from the rock face, seized the spear, and drove it into the back of her head. Her body went limp as her brain shut down, and the canon was heard moments later.
Guinevere's words resounded in my head.
'Who else will feed a family of eight?'
I would. I may not have much, but I'm damn good at catching fish. Sure, I'd miss the afternoon of the games, and I'd be risking my life, but her family needed people now. They needed me.
From an afternoon fishing, I had gathered around thirty creatures, enough to sustain them for a while. I left about half, in ice of course, and the rest I pickled and salted, to preserve them.
The path to the Barrow house was long and dreary, as they were far from the coast.
Her mother's eyes were bloodshot and puffy as she opened the door. I handed her the basket of fish, and explained how comfortable Guinevere had made me feel when Finnick was away for that year. She hugged me like a daughter. Guinevere had talked about me like the sister she never had, having only five brothers. My tears flowed freely, as I sat with the family until seven. I had to get back, to make sure... to check that he was ok.
That night, surprisingly, two faces lit up the arena walls: Guinevere's, and the girl from district eight. Apparently it wasn't an 'exciting' death. She had confused two types of mushrooms and eaten a poisonous one and had perished, foaming at the mouth.

That night, as the district 10 girl slept peacefully, the game makers decided to make things a literal more interesting with a gust of powerful wind that blew the male tribute clean off his perch. It was about three seconds before the net encompassed him, and the spear drove first into his throat to block the screams, then into his heart. Mr Odair had claimed another victim. Clearly he hadn't noticed the girl in the tree, who awoke the next morning, frightened alone. After what I had seen Finnick do so far, I decided I wouldn't be surprised by any of his subsequent actions.
Nevertheless, I was particularly shocked to see the district one boy, as the cameras cut to him, kneeling at the scorched earth where his partner fell, having used up his water trying to put her out. His lips were cracked, and his throat made nothing but a rasping sound, as the district two girl tried desperately to force water down it. His lips remained firmly closed though, and soon his eyes had misted over, and his voice had disappeared entirely. He stared at the burnt earth, and mouthed, silently,
'We were supposed to win.'
The district seven boy, Darius, looked on with a sickly grin on his face, seemingly unfazed by the dire state of his ally.
That night, the district one boy's face joined the male from ten in the sky, his picture was of him smiling in a time when he still had reason to smile.

~~
I dreamt of Finnick that night. Dreamt of walking into a room, and him being there like he used to be. I dreamt of him opening his arms to embrace me, and I ran to him, letting him hold me tight and close. He murmured to me that it was all ok. He called my love.
I woke up and he wasn't there.
It wasn't all ok.
I wasn't 'love'.
He wasn't holding me.
Would he ever again?