'Sometimes I wish I died that day. It would have spared me all this trauma.'
In which Calla Forte wishes she wouldn't have made it through her games. A girl who never forgets, faces her worst memories every day.
She can't sleep at night without see...
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"Calla, Calla" echoed the voice of a young boy through the woods. He released screams of agony and they did not stop. His screams lasted for what seemed like hours, growing more penetrating with every second.
Bentley Terra never wanted to go alone, so he did not go silently. He wanted her by his side, holding his hand till his soul left his ice cold body. Yet he never had anyone's hand to hold, while he was awaiting his death.
When his name was called at the reaping, he knew that he would meet death soon. Nonetheless, he hadn't imagined his journey into its arms to be that dreary and painful. When death kindly offered its hand to the young boy, he accepted it gratefully.
But death never came for Calla Forte. Not even when the odds were never in her favour.
Not even when her cousin's ear-piercing screams lured her directly into the arms of the most dangerous tributes of the Hunger Games - the careers - children killing to bring glory to their districts. They were highly lethal. Yet Calla somehow survived them all.
The girl had been able to outrun death on more than one occasion, but never did she outrun her nightmares. Each night she was faced with her cousin's body lying in the mud, soaked in his own blood. Sometimes he would ask her why she hadn't been there for him. Then she would be at loss for words.
For the last two years, her fears had been chasing her. She would wake up each and every night screaming, drained in cold sweat from head to toe. Their faces hunted her: Clementine's, Tiberius', Pearl's, Titan's and Marcella's. Though it was the face of Bentley keeping her awake at night.
Since the Games the girl couldn't look her aunt - the only person from District 6 that was dear to her – in the eyes anymore.
Before the train took her and Bentley to the Capitol, Calla made one simple promise to her and that was to stay with him till the very end. One simple promise, she failed to keep.
It wasn't the only one, the girl had broken during her Games. It were so many, they could all suffocate her.
Every night, she struggled for oxygen. And during most of them, this would lead to Calla eventually finding her way outside. The cool air would then gently embrace her, soothing her emotions, helping her survive another day.
Calla Forte was afraid of many things, but the dark was not one of them. In a way, it was her escape. Maybe even the one thing that did not frighten her.
When it was announced that the victors had to return to the arena once more, she found herself fleeing the walls of her 'home' too. That night she truly thought she would suffocate. She wasn't save anymore. She never was. There was a chance that she would have to go back.
It was clear to her that Katniss Everdeen, the infamous girl on fire, had something to do with her eventual return to the arena. The girl that accidentally started a rebellion by almost committing double suicide with her district partner. Calla never doubted that there would be consequences after that stunt, but she never imagined being a part of the Capitol's punishment for the young girl.
