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SONG PREFERENCE:Words Can Hurt by Kaitlyn Marie Oliveira
Boggs greeted Greyson at the entrance of the hovercraft, his arms folded in front of him with his black army uniform clinging loosely to his body. All around her were nuclear bombs, waiting to be used and detonated over cities. There were so many of them that Greyson wondered why they never fought back against the Capitol sooner. For years they just sat in their cozy little homes underground watching children be reaped, prepped for slaughter, and then ultimately killed for entertainment. The thought made her sick.
"You'll be watched from the sky, if something seems wrong, you head back to the landing point and will be recollected. No questions asked." Boggs explained as they reached the hovercraft, climbing up the slanted entrance. Inside, it looked exactly like the ones the Capitol used, leading Greyson to believe that they stole this or replicated it.
She buckled herself into a seat, thinking back to the two times she waited in line with the rest of the now dead tributes to be injected with her tracker. Now all that was left was a nasty scar, scrawled into her sunburned skin like a clutter of clouds in the middle of a sunset, disrupting the beauty.
They were lifted into the air, the blue morning sky surpassing them the higher they got. Greyson could only imagine what the Capitol did to Four. Plutarch was the one to break the news to her a few days after they rescued her out of the arena. The description was vague, but he managed to say, "bombing" and "no one survived" before Greyson broke down for the hundredth time. She'd been trying to get over the fact that Finnick was in the Capitol, but it always seemed to catch up with her and the load kept getting heavier. There never was an end to the destruction the Capitol did, especially to its enemies.
She could remember what Snow had told her all those years ago, after she defied the Capitol in her Games. The smell of roses still remained in that one room of her house. He sat on the couch, waiting for her to arrive home after a long day from helping her parents at their pop-up fish market they owned at the time. They greeted each other as if knowing something was wrong, the air in the room stiff with tension. And Snow leaned forward, his lips painted dark pink with something sweetly poisonous staining them, his snakelike eyes gleaming under the light.
"Do you realize what you've done, Miss Hunter?" He asked as if she was a child, talking down to her.
Greyson shook her head, pretending to be unsure. She knew what she did, but she also knew what Snow was capable of, how deadly he could be with the power he wielded. After all, he advocated the Hunger Games. "No, why don't you tell me?" She asked in the same tone he used, which was brave for a fifteen year old girl like herself.
