May I please introduce you to the winner of the 69th annual Hunger Games, Bree Daves!
The games changed you in ways that you could never understand. Something that Bree learned the hard way. After being forced to participate in the 69th annual Hung...
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Bree was tired, so tired.
Every day was the same. Bright and early, she would be awakened by a shouting outside her cell before a bowl of measly gruel was pushed through her door. The capital was feeding her barely enough food to survive. But Bree still forced it down her throat. Knowing that if she didn't, then they would.
Then, exactly 15 minutes after her breakfast arrived, the peacekeepers would arrive and drag her out of her cell and into another cell. This was the room that Bree dreaded. For in this room, she could hear her friend's screams, and she was sure they could hear her screams.
They had broken her soul. Why not also break her body and mind?
This is the point where they would get creative. Using different methods to break her. Some days, it was water and electroshock; other days, it would be a simple beating. On the days when the capital was really out to get her, it would be simple liquid in a clear syringe they would inject into her veins.
This poison was the worst.
The first two Bree could survive; her mind would summon up all her happy memories of Finnick, focusing on him. She no longer cared for her body, only counting down the days till they would finally be done with her and free her to join Finnick.
But not the poison; the poison would take every happy memory she had of Finnick and warp it, twisting it till it was unrecognisable. Till Bree had screamed herself horse until it was all she could see when she closed her eyes.
Some days, they made her relive the moment that Katniss killed Finnick. Some days, it was Bree's memories from her game when the Carrer Pack killed the little ones she was looking after. But it wasn't them dead on the floor. It was Finnick, Mags and Johanna. But the worst one by far was the moment where they made Bree drive the dagger into Finic's heart as she watched that anguish and hurt flood Finick's eyes before she would twist the dagger. Killing him.
Then, when they were finally done with her, they would drag her back to her cell. Throwing her in before leaving again.
Exactly 15 minutes after they left, another bowl of measly gruel would be pushed through her door. It was barely enough food to survive. But Bree would still force it down her throat.
Then Bree would huddle in the corner of her cell. Praying that when she drifted off to sleep, she would not wake up, and maybe she could finally join Finnick again. She would miss her parents, that's for sure. But there was no way she was ever going to escape the capital, and all she wanted was to see her Finnick again.
That was the pattern that Bree's days followed. Unrelenting and unstopping every single day. Day after day after day.
At the start, Bree had fought. Trying to show that capital that she was still strong, that she would go down swinging until her last breath. But she couldn't do that anymore. Her eyes were sunken and dead. Every breath sent the air rattling around her lungs
Now Bree craved death, for death would reunite her with her lover and end this monotonous hell that she was living in.
