unforgivable ➸ finnick odair

P R E L U D E

realizing now that johanna won her games after the 68th lol just roll with it ~

Every new victor has a coping mechanism to deal with the week of preparation before their official Victor's Interview and Ceremony. Some stare blankly at walls and windows, refusing to shift from their spot unless it's absolutely necessary. Others sleep the days away, attempting to find peace in their dreams, only to be pulled into the truly terrifying world of their nightmares.

Finnick Odair made a list of every single person who was waiting for him back home, attempting to visualize their faces in his mind's eye. He also made a list of every single person who's life he had ended, then compared to the two to see if some of the blood that stained his hands red was really worth it (sometimes the prettiest people are the most damaged).

Johanna Mason screamed her throat hoarse, pounded her bruised fists against the walls and made life a living nightmare for the nurses that were forced to attend to her. Behind closed doors, she would list every single detail about the tributes that she had killed, just so that she would never forget. Because while Johanna may be stubborn and willful, she is still human (sometimes the strongest people break the most).

Electra Reine drew. She drew, her pencil gliding across the paper, transforming the blank white canvas into art. But she didn't draw pretty flowers in a porcelain vase, or a pond bathing in the sun's bright light; Electra drew the games. She drew every single detail that she could remember, poured out all her emotions into her drawing. Everly and her sitting in the willow tree, all glowing smiles and naive happiness. Her and Ocean lounging in the cave, drumming their fingers to the rhythm of the raindrops. Even the fake Breeze, glowing ethereally, a small, sad smile on her artificial face (even the younger people have scars).

But every single sketch she meticulously created remained colourless, simply black and white, the immaculate graphite lines and the smudged white background. Soon enough, the walls of Electra's hospital room were lined with often mindless sketches, creating a storyboard of the 68th Hunger Games. Electra would stare at it before going to bed every night, never failing to wake up screaming for the allies that were never there.

She would never go on to tell anyone this, but Electra drew the games so that she would never forget - both the person that she had become, and the people that had been needlessly in order for her to survive. She looks in the mirror everyday and sees a girl who failed her allies when they needed her the most, a girl who had heartlessly wielded her weapons to methodically destroy her opponents. She does not see Electra Reine, sister of Breeze Reine, citizen of District Five - because that Electra died in the arena, maybe even as soon as the girl from her district was reaped and she so mindlessly volunteered. Now, all that was left was a monster.

(she will never tell anyone this, but one day Desiree Harlot walked into the bathroom of the Capitol's tribute centre and found Electra sobbing and frantically trying to scrub invisible blood off of her raw hands. No one ever leaves the arena 'alive'. The Victors, even the newest ones, would know)

it's 11:14, so sorry if there are any mistakes.

just a fair warning for part two: the electra you read about in part one no longer exists. i've read fanfics where the main character comes out of the games initially traumatized, but then seemingly unscathed, and those piss. me. off

electra will have flashbacks. she will have nightmares for her whole life. she will scream, she will cry, she will hallucinate - the whole package deal. because she is only 17, because she isn't incredibly apathetic, because she killed people. just like this little prelude said, no one really comes out of the games alive.

if you disagree with electra's inevitable character upheaval, ask yourself this: would you be the same person you are now if you won the hunger games?

(also, i'm pretty sure that i excel especially in writing sad, depressing, tragic stories. fun times)