'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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------- four -------
It was the same all over again. People were shouting, but not for her, never for her. They were shouting for Finnick and his good looks, for Brutus and his brute strength, for Enorbaria and her dedication, but mostly for the girl from 12 and her fire.
Her stylist set her on fire once again, but this time he dropped the girly dresses for a fierce-looking overall that made the girl look more dangerous than ever before. Calla wondered if the fire girl were the one to kill her in a few days. She knew 12 would fully be able to, but she wondered whether the girl was ready to kill again. Not everyone is a born killer.
Not every victor was a natural killer. The boy next to her wasn't. He was just good at surviving. And for a long time Calla thought she wouldn't be one either. Oh, how wrong she was. The games brought out the worst in everybody. Even those buried deepest within.
Yet the Capitol celebrated them for their viciousness by over showering them with gifts and money (as if it would make up for all the things they put them through). They invited them to interviews and lavish parties. They showed them how they threw up so they could eat more and more, while Panem was starving.
Even though Six wasn't the poorest of the districts, it was no rarity to die of starvation there. Calla didn't dare to imagine how the people of District 12 looked and how many corpses would lie on the streets during the worst of times.
She blamed the Capitol for all the things that had happened to her and the rest of Panem. And as she stood on the carriage she let the people know of it by her sharp stares, the sharpest and most piercing one was directed at the worst of them.
------- four ------
Calla was four when she came in contact with death for the first time. Her mother was still alive back then. Every Sunday the two of them - and only the two of them - went on a walk.
Six isn't known for its magnificent nature or fresh air. It's quite industrial actually, but young Calla never minded. To her District Six was the most beautiful place there is. That was until she saw a bit more of the world.
All together Six doesn't have much to offer, it never had. And it wasn't a place you'd remember for long. There every passage looked the same. So did every building and street. Expect for „Flora Street".
„Flora Street" didn't only stick with Calla because of a name that didn't describe the street at all. It stuck with her because of the man than slept on the asphalt.
The man with the bothy skin and feathery hair. The man with the blue lips and red eyes. The man that only had a small blanket covering himself. The man that just wouldn't move a muscle for ten whole minutes.
If it hadn't been for her mother's terrified expression, the young girl wouldn't have even noticed there was something wrong with him. She thought they were just playing a game. That whoever stirred first lost. But it wasn't a game.
Neither were The Hunger Games. Although the title suggests different. It was a slaughter, a gruesome one that is.
When she saw the second corpse that crossed her, she couldn't stop thinking of the resting man of „Flora Street". Both the bodies were surrounded by this air of restlessness and this piercing cold.
——— four ——-
President Snow was the most loathsome man of whole Panem. He was cruel and cold. He made her shiver more than all of those dead bodies combined. That man had it coming. He surely knew about that. Otherwise he wouldn't have arranged this little "party". For all of his bad qualities, President Snow was no retard.
Calla Forte would have never in her life expected this man to give her his attention for longer than a second, but as she stared him dead in the eye, he stared back. As if to say "So you're angry. You have been lied to. Now, what are you going to do against it?"
But not only he looked at the girl from Six. There was Katniss Everdeen, Panem's girl on fire, eying her with nothing but pure curiosity. Finnick Odair who send her a quick smirk and Johanna Mason, who could not take her eyes of the brunette for only a second.
Though Calla noticed no one but Snow and saw nothing but red.
Calla Forte wasn't an angry girl. She rarely felt the sensation of anger rising up in her. Neither was she one to lose her temper. That was Johanna's thing after all.
It was also Johanna's thing to come up with the craziest of ideas that would take Calla's mind off of everything.
"Do you want to have some fun?" the girl asked her after the parade. It wasn't like she left Calla anytime to answer. Immediately she dragged the girl by her hand to an already filled elevator.
As soon as she saw who was in there, she knew how they were going to have their fun. The girl that is seemingly afraid of nudity, Loverboy and the man that always gives her his alcohol.
"You guys look amazing," started Johanna. Fire girl was quick to thank her. Good Lord, she was already uncomfortable. Poor girl!
"My stylist is such an idiot! District Seven," she huffed "lumber". And now the undressing began.
"I'd love to put an axe in her face," Johanna was extra careful to stress the last part of that sentence. The expression on fire girl's face was priceless and almost made Calla chuckle. The girl grew more uncomfortable with each second.
Johanna could have stopped right then and there and she would have already left a lasting impression on 12, but stopping that early before the real fun had even begun, was not something Johanna Mason would do.
"So how do feel? Now that the whole world wants to sleep with you."
"Oh, I don't think -" it was Katniss speaking, but she didn't come very far.
"I wasn't talking to you," Johanna interrupted rudely, making her voice sound as bitchy as she could.
At this point, both Haymitch and Peeta started laughing quietly. The former giving her an amused look.
„Unzip?" Johanna now turned to her. Calla complied. It wasn't like she had never seen her friend naked before anyhow. Though this time it was a bit weird since she had little to nowhere else to look.
She was drawn to her, but she did not want to stare. Johanna on the other hand, she just stood there in nothing but a forest green tanga, smirking slyly at her and fire girl's discomfort. Then she left the elevator with the bing, leaving them all alone. Calla swore she had heard 12 release a breath.
"Darn it. I just missed my floor." Calla realised soon after.
——— four ———
"That was quite the show," spoke Calla as she spotted Johanna three hours later gazing at the outline of the city, at all those lights.
