𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

FOUR

iv. The Reaping

Months had come and left quicker than Aurora could've ever imagined. The anxious feeling that was hidden away in her chest had slowly resurfaced as the few months passed. It was a difficult decision, choosing what she was to do with what could be her last months in District Four. Aurora assumed other victors would spend their time training, getting their bodies ready for the arena. Those who had families, surely spent their time cherishing them, while those without, sat and sulked around. Or at least, that was what Aurora had begun to do before Finnick pulled her out of the water.

In the first couple of days after the Quell had been announced, Aurora had become familiar with the dazy feeling of intoxication, and the burning flavor of alcohol in her throat. At the time, she was a wreck, lost in the nightmares of her own games. There was one nightmare that seemed to stick with her. It started off the same, with her and Zale traveling down the field towards the Cornucopia. She'd hear the sickening sound of the ax impaling her brother's back, but when she turned around, it wasn't her brother. Instead, Finnick's body was the one that fell to the floor in a bloody heap.

Finnick, however, was her savior from the dark shadow that clouded her mind, preying on her sanity. He forced her to the beach where they practiced basic survival skills: weaving nets, fishing, creating fish hooks, etc.. Aurora had even sharpened her knife throwing skills, getting back into the feel of the combat. By the end of the day, her body would be exhausted and sore from the training Finnick had forced her through.

Aurora made sure to cherish what little time she had left, knowing that soon enough it would all be gone. Deep down, she knew Snow would want her back in the Capitol for the Hunger Games, for she'd been safe at home for too long. Either way, she wouldn't let Annie or Mags back in the arena- it was the worse possible thing she could've done to the two people she loved. They were her family, and she wasn't going to let them die as well.

Aurora stood in front of the mirror, eyeing her dress. The last time she'd been forced to dress nicely was when she'd visited the Capitol, per Snow's request. She looked odd, dressed nicely. She wore what was a knee cut milky white dress, a nod to her being the sweetheart of the Capitol. The Girl on Fire wore extravagant, dark dresses, whereas the Capitol Darlings wore light, bright colors, such as white, to represent their angelic like traits.

Aurora's house was eerily silent. Finnick had left that morning to get ready for the reaping himself, a task he never thought he'd ever had to do again. It was nerve-racking, for every victor, in every district. They all no doubt had the same thought, it was all bullshit. They have ensured their safety, they had already survived the slaughter, yet they were getting thrown back in for another round.

The peacekeepers were to come any second. Before they could arrive, Aurora rushed to her bedroom, looking for something of importance. She fell to her knees, searching under her bed for the box, the box she'd managed to avoid acknowledging for the past couple of years. Searching through the storage, her eyes had finally landed upon the stark white box. She quickly pulled it out from under the bed, setting it on her lap.