THE HUNGER GAMES: the taste of Whiskey and Snow // CORIOLANUS SNOW

Twenty One

Whiskey leant against the train station wall, kicking her legs up, waiting for the next crate train to drive past. Sleep tugged at her chest, pulling her towards the darkness. Her eyes fluttered closed, letting go, when suddenly a loud buzzing noise interrupted the quiet radio station.

"We interrupt this broadcast to remind the people of Panem what happens when you disobey the rules of the Hunger Games and try to escape back home," the voice on the other side of the radio buzzed.

Whiskey quickly sat up, all drowsiness leaving immediately. She turned up the volume, sitting on her knees to get closer to the tiny speakers.

"Tonight we will be having a public execution of all tributes," the voice announced.

Whiskey genuinely gasped. There was no way they were going to execute every tribute in front of the cameras. Did that mean that the Hunger Games weren't happening?

The person who made this decision was a psychopath. They'd rather kill everyone than have people from the districts believe they could stand up for themselves. That thought made Whiskey sick to her stomach. If they were capable of this? What else were they capable of? How many more people would they kill for their own ambitions?

That question was answered far quicker than she would've liked.

"And to the remaining tribute from district 12 who thinks she's gotten away with the bloodshed of our own. Your consequences result in payment of blood from your family instead. Your beloved Auntie. Violent crimes will not be tolerated from any tribute outside the Hunger Games."

Whiskey was on her feet before she heard the rest. They had her auntie. They were going to kill her auntie because of her. Without thinking, she broke into a sprint towards the academy.

If her auntie died because she stabbed Coriolanus, Whiskey would never forgive herself. Gree's life was so much more important then hers. Her auntie had little kids, a husband, a business to run. All Whiskey had was Gree. She couldn't die. Not yet. Whiskey deserved to die, not her.

Suddenly, every interaction they'd ever had flashed through her mind. Every day Gree would visit Whiskey after working at the markets, making sure she had eaten and had clean water. Whiskey needed her. What if there was no other interaction every again? What if they'd killed her already? Would she never get to say goodbye?

After running as fast as she could for a while, her empty stomach caught up with her and Whiskey collapsed onto the hard concrete road. Her knees skidded on the ground, ripping the flesh. She cried out in pain but desperately climbed back on her feet, fighting through the pain. People watched her from their car windows and shop windows, but nobody dared go near the young tribute, incase she was dangerous. Whiskey felt as though she was going insane in a world were the only person who cared was being killed because of her.

By the time she spotted the academy, she was disoriented from crying and faint headed from running. Her body was shaking from the adrenaline, anxiety and exhaustion. Blood was running into her socks, stinging with each jagged step on the path in the cold wind. It took everything she had to keep running, but she did. Her auntie couldn't die. Not because of her.

Inside, Coriolanus stood with his back facing the academy doors. He couldn't bring himself to turn around and look out, despite knowing she'd be here any minute. He clutched onto his satchel with his good hand, trying to control his breathing.

Suddenly, Dean Highbottom appeared. He downed a bottle of liquid, wincing as it went down. "So, did you kill her auntie?"

"Why would I tell you that?" Snow said sourly, wishing he'd leave.

"Ah, so you did," he concluded. "You're just like your father."

This caught Coriolanus's attention. "My father killed someone?"

"Emotionally? yes. Physically? Yes also. Two different people. But who am I to judge? It was all for ambition," he said plainly. "Tell me, Snow. Was it worth it?"

"Don't judge me for trying to survive" Coriolanus defended himself.

Highbottom shrugged, "Everyone's got their own ways."

"Who did my father kill?" Coriolanus finally asked, letting curiosity get the better of him.

This seemed to hit a nerve because Highbottom stayed silent for a moment. Finally, he breathed in, "I thought it was a cruel fate for Whiskey Everdeen to be your tribute. You've met her before, you just don't remember because you were both young children."

"What are you suggesting?" Snow crossed his arms, getting defensive.

"You'd think the girl already had enough family members killed by the Snow family." Highbottom pointed out. "Look, here she is." With that, he turned and walked away, not wanting to watch the scene.

Coriolanus gave Highbottom a glare, trying not to think too deeply about what he said. "He's just a drunk old man," Snow whispered under his breath, feeling uncertain.

Taking a breath in, her turned around, watching her stand frozen in the courtyard. Her appearance shocked him a little, with her bleeding knees and puffy eyes. She'd lost a few pounds from not eating anything. From the crazy animal that stabbed him last time he saw her, she looked very different.

She had no colour in her face and he worried in the wind she'd be blown over, but she managed to stay rigid. She was standing in front of the post where her auntie's dead body was blowing in the wind. He watched as her arm animatedly reached out and touched the flimsy leg. It swayed a little from the momentum.

Whiskey suddenly turned and ghostly looked towards the academy. Coriolanus stepped back, feeling like she was staring directly at him. But soon she dropped her head and fell onto her bloody knees. That's when the hysterical screaming began.

He clenched his jaw and turned away. The worst part was he didn't regret killing her auntie. If he hadn't, Whiskey would have been abused more times than he could imagine and he would've been out on the street starving with his entire family in a month. One death was better than all of them.

Through the screaming, he reminded himself of the animal she was. She used him and would do it again to keep herself safe. She stabbed him when he trusted her.

But, in the end, it didn't matter because in a few hours, she would be executed anyway.