𝘷. 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

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CHAPTER 5
- 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿
( 𝗯𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗯𝘂𝘁𝘀𝗸𝘆𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 )

CHAPTER 5 - 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿( 𝗯𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗯𝘂𝘁𝘀𝗸𝘆𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 )

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            ON THE NIGHT OF THE opening ceremony, I fall asleep upon almost immediate contact with my mattress

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            ON THE NIGHT OF THE opening ceremony, I fall asleep upon almost immediate contact with my mattress. But my peace doesn't last for long. I am transported into a nightmare, filled with specific details from the day. I find myself scurrying through a snowy wood, tripping over my long golden dress that swishes around my feet. The faster I try to run, the deeper the snow gets, and soon enough, I am consumed almost to my waist, struggling against the ice that now serves as sinking sand. Out of the blue, a boy appears in front of me, holding up a spear, threatening to pierce my neck if he releases the lance from his fingertips.

            My instincts get the best of me, and I lift my hand to let my own weapon fly. The blade rotates and hits him directly in the heart, causing a loud thud to resonate through the trees. The tribute staggers backwards while his face morphs grotesquely into Finnick's, whose eyes have been replaced by hollow holes and whose hair has become shriveled like rotting corpse.

            "This is what you get, golden girl," his mouth moves but Phaedra's voice sounds in it's place. Red spills continuously from his mouth like a waterfall, creating a thick puddle at his swaying feet. I want to tear my eyes away from the sickening horror, but I can't seem to get myself to do it. "This is the price of victory, darling."

            My awakening is delayed, but it doesn't stop my screaming. I flail from side to side, trying to remove the lingering cold on my skin and the bloodstains splattered in my mind. I smack my head against the wooden bedframe a couple times, hoping it will relieve some of the suffering, but it makes me twitch even more. I throw my blankets to the floor and hurl every pillow against the glass window, all of which remind me of the snow that previously bound me in the ground. Even my skimpy pajamas are too much for me to handle so those get thrown off too.

            I lay still, wishing for a chance that it will help me calm down, however, I decide to thrash again. The fit ends after a few long minutes, leaving me trembling quietly and sobbing into my bare knees. What is wrong with me? I pity Annie Cresta, but I'm no better than her, she just tends to show it. I am just a hollow shell of my old self and replaced by a Capitol victor who puts on a mask of happiness and wealth to please her audience.

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