"𝒩𝑜 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝓁𝒶𝓏𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇."
"𝐼'𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑒𝓉."
An ambitious girl with anger bigger than herself and even more confidence was unfortunate enough to be reaped for the 73rd hunger games. Daphne Westef...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.
Soon, life in district seven felt normal again. The days were spent with tired eyes and soft laughs, and the nights afraid and uneasy. She'd come to accept that, which made it all a bit more bearable.
Daphne's days were still spent joining Johanna in whatever she was doing, and eating dinner with her father quite a lot. She wasn't sure how it happened, but one time, Johanna agreed to join her for dinner, and at least once a week, the three were sitting in Robert's house.
She wasn't sure if she liked it, since her father had plenty of embarrassing childhood stories to tell, like the one time she managed to stab herself in the leg with a butter knife. It was quite embarrassing, but Johanna had laughed, and it seemed worth the embarrassment.
The Quarter Quell eventually got announced, leaving the survivors worried and stressed for what the Capitol would put a bunch of innocent kids through this time. Daphne was sitting on her couch, already puffing out annoyed breaths until finally, president Snow appeared.
He opened a seemingly old letter, although she didn't know if she believed it. "We celebrate this Quarter Quell as a reminder that even the strongest can not overcome the power of the Capitol. This year, the tributes of each district will be reaped from the existing pool of victors."
Daphne sucked in a rough breath, pushing herself back into the couch. This could not be happening. It couldn't. She couldn't go back in that hell hole. She wouldn't.
Her jaw was clenched, and she absurdly got up, her head spinning, and her heart beating wildly. The president was still talking, and Daphnis tried to shut the screen off, but it wouldn't. "Shut up," she pressed every button on the remote, but nothing happened. Her breath was shallow, her heart was beating too loud. He couldn't be serious. This couldn't be happening. "Shut up!"
She could yell all she wanted to, but the screen would stay on until the announcement was over, and the words he had spoken would become reality, as much as it felt like a nightmare.
The door opened as Daphne spun around with tears in her eyes. "Sweetheart," her father softly said, wrapping his arms around her.
She leaned into his touch, her tears stilling. She wasn't alone. Her father could get back in there. Johanna could.
"You'll be okay," Robert said softly, rubbing her back. "There's still a chance —"
Daphne stopped listening. There was a chance Johanna was going back. That was even worse than herself going back. She couldn't go back in there, not if she wanted to have a life after.Snow didn't like Johanna, she'd probably die, if not by the hand of tributes, by the command of Snow.
Her reasoning was not truly altruistic, because she could not imagine being here, and watching Johana fight for her life again. If anything, it had to be her. She didn't have any friends that were victors, she could kill them without hesitating —
