Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Alone or not you gotta walk forward.
She skipped breakfast the next day and chose to stand underneath the water of the shower until the skin on her hands became wrinkled. Looking down at them, she thought about how this would be the only way she would see her skin aged. The soap fell out of her hair in soppy clumps and surrounded her feet. The smell was supposed to be calming, but nothing could calm the impending doom that rested inside of her.
Evelin came to her mind more than once throughout the night in panicked bursts until eventually she was too anxious to sleep. How would they eat? Would they receive pity? No. Cassia knew the answer all too well. She saw it with the other dead tributes. No one ever had anything leftover to give. The world was selfish and it was one for all and all for one.
Something inside of her changed last night. There was a conflict within her that had her heart ripping in two. Should she die in the arena fighting back against the other tributes or let someone take her out as soon as the gong went off; better yet, end it herself before someone gets the chance to? She could throw a knife and use a spear but it would never be enough when coming face-to-face with a breathing, conscious human being.
She could see it now, her empty face and lifeless eyes on the screen, her sister and father mourning over her death. She would become another disappointment to her District. And then they would all move on. They would forget she existed until the Victory Tour when the winner would have to give a speech to the families. Or she could win and be crowned Victor, which was close to impossible.
Bitterness filled her mouth as she stepped out of the shower and let the dryer run over her body. On her bed was an outfit chosen for her to wear. Today was the day she would be using the training facility. She would train for a couple days until being judged for her abilities in front of the gamemakers. As she pulled on the uncomfortably tight shirt, a knock came from her door. Staring at it, she hesitated before opening it, expecting it to be an Avox. Instead, it was Finnick, the last person she wanted to see; next to Lark, of course.
"Can I come in?" He asked tentatively. He looked distressed, his golden hair askew. For the age of nineteen, he looked older in this moment.
Reluctantly, she let him in, standing aside to let him pass her while she closed the door shut. She watched as he looked around the room, his brow furrowed in thought. She opened her mouth to ask why he was here, when he said, "I've been watching you these past few days, trying to figure out what to do with you. I've had a few tributes over these years and every year I have to watch them die. I didn't know Gia was going for this new angle with Lark. And Cassia, I don't want to do that with you," he finally looked at her, his eyes a window into the stream of thoughts running wild in his mind.
"What do you want to do with me then?" She asked. She swore she saw something flicker in his eyes, but couldn't define it because it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
