ODDS

ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴠᴇꜱ

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 too loud for my liking at the moment. Panic attacks only visited me every so often, so I couldn't complain too much, but it bummed me out that they tended to happen when everyone was together. Not that get-togethers were rare. We congregated at each other's houses at least once a week for dinner. Mary insisted, and no one could really say they wanted any different.

We were family, after all.

I heard the doors slide open and close.

"Dinner almost ready, fish boy?" I asked. His designated nickname had come from some Capitol woman trying to woo him. I hadn't let him live it down.

"Fish boy? So you two have already come up with couple names, huh?" a voice asked.

I turned my head in mild surprise, finding Johanna perching her arms on the deck. I rolled my eyes at her comment, fighting a smile. She was positive I had a thing for Finnick, and vice versa. It was a ridiculous notion. Finnick and I shared trauma, and that made us really good friends.

Since winning the 71st Hunger Games, Johanna had become a close friend of mine. I admired her very much, especially how unbelievably kind she could be. Not many people were privileged enough to know that side of Johanna, and it made our friendship that much more special.

"You smell like fire." I stated.

"They were burning trees while I waited at the train station." she explained. I nodded. She never believed me when I commented on her smell, telling everyone that I was just teasing her about being from District Seven. Regardless, every time we saw each other, I got a whiff of campfire.

"You okay? You seem a bit on edge." Johanna mentioned softly. I blinked, waking myself up from my trance.

"Just needed some fresh air." I assured her, flashing a smile. There was no reason to worry her about my mental health. She was dealing with her own mind.

"Yeah, okay." Johanna said, disbelief evident in her speech. I stood up then, grabbing the girl's hand.

"Come on. I'm starving." I pulled her along behind me, reaching for the handle and opening the door. We made our way inside, catching up while walking towards the kitchen.

Everyone was there. Mags. Zane and Mary with their kids. Caspian, Tora, and Annie sat off to the side, having their own conversation. And Finnick.

He was helping Mary grab some plates, since he was much taller than her and could reach them without much trouble. Mary said her thanks and began preparing her family's plates.

"Okay, everyone! We can make our plates now. Dinner is ready." she announced. Everyone rushed to fill their plates.

We sat around the room, having different conversations. Laughs filled the space, warm and bright. As I looked around, I smiled, content and grateful for those around me. My family, my life, had been torn apart. I was nothing but a ghost, a shell of a person. But these people, they took me in and made me apart their own family. I couldn't have asked for anything better.

Yes, I had had my fair share of trauma, but I was there, alive and well.

And I knew everything was alright.

***

Mary had put Bonnie and Noah to bed, and we all sat around the hologram television set up in her and Zane's living room. I sat between Finnick and Johanna as they made fun of some Capitol gossip they had come across. I only listened, giggling every so often at something either one of them said. It would have been a perfect way to end an evening. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be.

It was the night of Snow's Quarter Quell announcement.

I dreaded this year's Games, mainly because it was a Quarter Quell. It was mine and Zane's turn to mentor. I was not looking forward to it. I never did.

"There is no way that that's true." Johanna scoffed.

"It's the Capitol, Johanna. Anything and everything that could be true, is true." Finnick argued.

I rolled my eyes.

In an instant, the Capitol anthem played and a white background with the Capitol's emblem flashed in all its glory. The camera cut to a large building, which stood in front of Tribute's Avenue. Every victor in the room tensed. We recognized it, alright. How could we not?

The camera zoomed in, focusing on the man walking in regal fashion, ready to address all of Panem.

Snow.

He wore a suit, his signature white rose sitting delicately in the pocket on his right. His beady eyes shone with power and deceit. Just the mere sight of him left me nauseated. It didn't matter that he was thousands of miles away. He had that affect on people, victor on not.

He stepped up, overlooking the pristine, marble balcony. The Capitol citizens cheered, excitement evident in their buzzing mannerisms. Even over the hologram it was loud. I winced.

I felt Finnick take my hand and squeeze it. I immediately felt calmer. Returning the favor, I felt grateful that he had my back.

Snow's wretched mouth opened, revealing his snake-like voice. And he began his speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 75th year of The Hunger Games."

I took a breath and shakily let it go. This was it. My year was about to plummet downhill. I was at least grateful that Johanna and Zane would be mentoring as well. I wouldn't be alone, which was something.

"And it was written in the charter of The Games that every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell,"

The words, which Snow spoke so smoothly, resonated in my ears, "Quarter Quell" echoing in a dizzying manner.

"...to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol."

Those which were murdered.

"Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance."

Johanna scoffed at this, letting out a gruff chuckle. No one blamed her. I was honestly surprised she was the only one.

"And now on this the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion,"

The 75th anniversary of the savage tradition of murdering kids.

"...we celebrate the 3rd Quarter Quell,"

My heart sped up.

"...as a reminder,"

He always loved reminders.

"...that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol."

We should've know; we tried.

"...On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell Games,"

Snow smirked as he looked down, reading the paper written all those years ago, before the celebrated murder and evil. It irked me that he could be this cruel. It made my skin crawl and cheeks heat up. How could he be so heartless?

I wasn't ready for his next words.

None of us were.

"...the male and female Tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district."

The crowd in the Capitol roared, shocked at their President's words. I heard the people around me, in the very room I sat in, make noise of protest.

But I was off in my own world. Floating. Tingling. Numb. It felt as if I had never left the arena. And for the first time, I realized how gullible I had been. I was crowned victor, yes, but that was a relative title, not meaning safety in any way, shape, or form.

I thought I had won, but that was childish thinking.

Because no one ever won the Games.