Scarred | The Hunger Games

16.

It's been almost three months since I agreed to Snow's offer, which was more of a threat honestly. Since then, Johanna and I have talked on the phone multiple times, all of which I couldn't bring myself to bring it up. I couldn't do that to her. After all that happened to her because she said no, if she agreed now, what would it have all been for. 

"Oh yeah, but Finnick has always been like an older brother- DON'T TELL HIM I SAID THAT THOUGH." Johanna said, the speaker peaking.

I laughed through the phone, "yeah, fishfuck definitely acts like it. An older, annoying brother."

"Yeah but you provoke him like a little sister. 'Fishfuck' HAH." Johanna mimics me. "How is your sister?"

"Ott- My sisters doing good. She... We're doing good." I say, my voice getting quiet as I'm reminded of what I must do. There's a hard knock on my door, and I move off the couch. "Sorry Jo, one moment." I leave the phone on the couch as I move to open the door.

It was an avox, who simply hands me a letter, before immediately leaving. The letter was scented rose, and I immediately knew its contents. 

'I'm waiting Miss Frane.' 

It was Snow's way of telling me to get on with it. Although he never explicitly disclosed a date in which he expected the agreement to complete, I suspect it must be soon. 

I plop back onto the couch, bringing the phone to my ear with my shaky hands. "Hey Jo."

"Hey, who was that doll?"

An idea popped into my head. A stupid one, a bad one. But I had to- there was no other way to save them both, I had to save them both. "A client of mine."

Johanna faked gag on the line, "eugh, was he here to deliver flowers. Fucking clingy ass capitolites." She says and I can basically hear the eye roll.

"No, he- he's sweet. I really enjoy it."

There was silence for a moment. "What?"

"I- I like it. It... it feels good."

"Novalie, I don't know what bullshit you are spewing but you are sick for it. I know you didn't like it, Finnick told me when you found out you were pregn-"

"I WAS YOUNG!" I yell into the phone. Johanna stops talking. "I was young, and I didn't understand that it felt good-"

"This was not even a year ago, what is up with you?"

I ramble. "It- It feels good, you- you should try it. It feels-"

"You did not just say that." Her voice was low and sharp, and it made me want to apologise forever. "You did not ask me to try taking on appointments."

"I-"

"No. I don't care how much you enjoy that shit. It sickens me, and I will never try it, not after everything I've sacrificed so I didn't have to do exactly that!" She growls at me through the phone. "And if you enjoy it so much you keep doing that slut. Don't being me into it."

"Such a slut just for me." Halima smiles wickedly.

"You do this, or both Ottiline and Johanna Mason will reap the consequences."

"Jo- please just try it, I promise you'll-"

"Don't you ever call me Jo again you fucking slut." She yells.

"Please you have to do it!" I yell back. I hear Jo go to retaliate but I don't let her. "You have to do it or he'll kill you! He'll kill you and my sister and I- I can't lose Otti, not Ottiline. I can't lose either of you." I begin to sob into the phone.

She doesn't respond, and it gives me some sick form of hope that she might do it. "No. Snow can fucking kill me for all I care."

"But my sister-" I cry.

"The way I see it, doll. It would be better if Snow killed both of us. I'm not doing it." The phone goes silent.

She hung up.

***

It was the victory tour of the 73rd Hunger Games, but I wouldn't be there to see it. I had an appointment. 

I kept my hands to myself, and let him do whatever he wanted to me. I didn't kill him, because I didn't know what else Snow would force me to try do. All I wanted to do was to see Otti.

I headed towards the centre like I always did in my routine, entering Otti's room. And this time, it was truly a cell instead of a room. 

The once white walls somehow seemed greyer, like there was less light in the room now. The little luxuries that existed in the room was removed, and there were now desks where knives and tools were neatly kept.

What terrified me was the redish-brown stains on the bed sheets and on the floor. My poor little baby's figure was balled in the corner of her bed, her white gown with stains of red.

I rushed over to her, sitting on the bed. "Otti?" I placed my hand on her shoulder.

She screamed in terror. "NO. Please stop! I didn't do anything-" She began thrashing, trying to scramble off the bed.

"Hey, hey, it's me Otti. It's your big sister Eulalia." I held her face in my hands, trying to get her to look at me. "You're ok baby. I promise I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here baby, I'm here.

Her eyes reached mine. "Eula?"

"Yes baby, I'm here."

She leapt into my arms, sobbing into my shoulder, hysterical. "Why- why are they doing this to me?!" She was unbelievable light in my arms, weak, injured. 

"What did they do to you." I pulled away, searching for where the blood had been coming from. Her arms had burns on them, some electric, others chemical burns and there were handprints around her neck. 

But what clenched at my heart the most was where the blood was coming from. Her white gown was sliced open, blood seeping onto the fabric in three areas. One under her collarbone, above her undeveloped breasts, another deep into her hip, the last was a stab wound in her arm.

"They're hurting you like how I was hurt in the games." The words made it so much more real. There was only one injury from the games that she was missing. "I'm sorry. Oh my god I'm so sorry Otti, this is all my fault baby." 

"It's ok. I know you're trying." The tears in her eyes break me, her voice soft and cracking. "I'm missing your shark bite." 

I press my forehead against her. "I promise I'll get you out of here before they can do that to you. I won't let them do that to you."

"Be quick Eula. I don't know how much more I can hurt." She whispers. 

***

"President Snow, I tried but she won't agree-"

"I don't care. You will convince her to do it. I am buying you time, why else do you think your sister is still alive?" He says, taking a sip of his champagne.

"Please- she won't do it, she never will." I beg.

His eyes remain unmerciful, and I knew there was no chance of convincing him to change his mind.