"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...
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tw: death, blood, violence
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While Daphne had accepted her faith when she decided to open her mouth and let everyone know the truth, she found it hard to hold onto that same flicker of braveness when she got the beating. She had known they'd make her pay, but when she laid on the ground, blood seeping from her head, mouth, lip, and the sound of her own ribs cracking still fresh in mind, she wished she'd shut up. If she had, she would have had a blanket and the lights would be off. Now she watched as her own blood colored the pristine floor.
She wasn't even certain if it had been worth it, although thinking was becoming rather hard, her vision was becoming black near the edges with every move, the pain soaring through her body, making her gasp, which only made it worst.
So, Daphne stayed on the floor, like a broken doll, trying to not move and let the blackness take over.
The last thing she needed was anyone seeing her like this, she had never felt weaker. Yet, the door opened. She feared for another round of brutally attacking her, but it was the skinny, glimmering form of Daniel. He looked pale and as if he hadn't slept in weeks. Too tired and hurt to even react, Daphne didn't speak, but tried to shift positions.
"Oh dear," Daniel gasped, rushing towards her. He was all by himself, so they didn't think she was a threat. She wasn't, she realized. Everything hurt, and seeing a familiar face made her glad, even if it was Daniel.
She'd seen Peeta during the interview. He'd looked confused, but if they had tortured him, too, he did a better job at hiding it.
Daniel helped her carefully sit against the wall. "I'm so sorry, if there was anything --" he chocked up, shook his head, and let his fingers trail softly through her hair. "President Snow asked me to come and tell you something."
Daphne turned her head away, she didn't want to hear anything he had said.
"I know, but... you deserve to know," his voice broke slightly, and he took her least battered hand. "He believes you're still fighting because of Johanna. I don't know if that's true, but... she's dead, Daphne."
She turned her head back to the man, her brain processing it a bit too slow. It was hard to believe. Johanna was a fighter. Daphne had seen her alive. She had to be alive. "What?" As the words fully settled in, tears sprung to her eyes. It couldn't be. She'd done whatever she could, she had... she would... she should.
"I'm really sorry," Daniel said, tears welling in his own eyes. She wasn't sure if it was for Johanna or because of how pathetic Daphne looked at that moment.
"I-" as she was looking for the words, it hit her. It might be a trick. There was no way of knowing for certain. He could be telling whatever he wanted, the camera's had shut off. Maybe it was a trick. "I don't believe you." Her voice cracked from the pain, but she still sounded more certain than she would dare to believe.
