The decision was not an easy one, but she needed to do something. She had known a little about the uprising. For someone who had always considered herself a rule follower growing up, she'd made her way to the rebellion. She'd found out not long after her final reaping that not only were members of her own family involved, but also her new fiancé's. She joined out of a sense of loyalty towards her family and Ronan. It also helped that she did not agree with the Hunger Games. She thought it barbaric and giving her support towards something like this could help. She thought she would be a passive member. She would do what little she could, but she'd never done something drastic. Until now.
Trigger warnings [all under the cut]: Death, blood, bodily injury, and of course lots of angsty feels
It started off with a shared table outside of a cafe on a day where tourists had swarmed the joint - a table they’d silently agreed to share until the tourists left for good. But when they finally fled, it had become a custom. Whether or not there were empty tables, the pair would simply sit in relative silence, occasionally muttering a hello or goodbye over cups of coffee and the latest newspaper.
Two weeks later, she arrived to their usual table to find her order was already there - the coffee steaming and the chocolate croissant warm - as if he’d timed it perfectly. The book she’d brought to read was forgotten and replaced instead with conversation. It became a morning routine until one day she realized she was spilling her heart and soul out to someone she’d hardly known weeks before, and not once had he judged her over desires and dreams that seemed outlandish to most.
Their breakfasts turned into lunches, lunches to dinners and dinners to nights at one another’s cramped, if not temporary apartments. Their friendship moved into a relationship and eventually two apartments became one. Things moved quickly - which was foolish really - but every glance at his face sent near sickening butterflies into her chest and an I love you to her mind. They had talked about the future - nothing concrete but little wants and what ifs. The thoughts brought enough happiness to her that she dared question what would have happened if they stepped further. They’d moved fast, sure, but why let time stand in the way of love?
Her residency was slowly picking away at her will - the hours long and late - their time spent together lingering between a quick bite of food before she passed out and he went to work. It was her dream, but sometimes she questioned if he was her bigger dream. If all the work and time apart would be worth it. Once or twice, she’d dared to voice the fears to a close friend or two, and they’d all scoffed. He looks at you like you put the sun in the sky.
She’d been tired - eyes muddled with sleep, head buried gratefully into a pillow. They were fortunate that for once their days off lined up. She’d heard him get up sometime ago - the soft clanking of dishes and the shutting of drawers in the kitchen just enough to keep her from anything but a lingering sleep. So when the noise suddenly stopped, her brows had furrowed in confusion. There was no pattering of feet against the floor - no fuzzy noise of the local news in the background. Concerned, she’d risen - pausing just long enough to pull on a pair of socks and one of his oversized shirts - before padding out of the bedroom and into their quaint living space.
Her eyes took in the flowers first - fresh sunflowers that spilled over a vase she’d picked up in a flea market a few towns over. Though she’d shot looks between the vase and him for days after buying it - not once had it properly been filled with anything but a handful of wildflowers from a field they’d traipse through on sunny mornings. On the counter was a whole array of breakfast foods - a fresh bowl of strawberries, a plate stacked high with Belgian waffles, and fresh orange juice in glasses next to steaming mugs of coffee. A smile threatened to quirk at her lips at her sight, but her eyes continued to scan the room in hopes of finding the man that would complete the perfect picture.
She found him leaning against the corner of the counter, away from the island - eyes silently watching her. Though his hands were clasped behind his back, Persephone made no real note of it as she stepped forward for a kiss - to say good morning and thank you all at once - but her steps halted when a small, blue box was pulled from behind his back and presented it to her.
I love you.
Persephone could see his lips forming the words but they were lost behind a buzz of noise and a rather distinct beeping. She could see the slight crinkle forming in his brow - the box disappearing from his hands as he reached for her, concerning marring his features - SEPH!
Groaning softly, her eyes blinked open, vision blurry. Despite the ringing in her ears, she could still make out the sounds of a siren -the whirring getting louder by the second. But as her vision cleared, it became clear her car had rolled - the windshield was cracked, bits of grass and twigs sticking through where pieces had gone missing. Had she hit someone?
No - someone had hit her. Hands trembled slightly, another groan emitting from her lips as she tried to move - fingers touched her head and drew away crimson. A head injury - somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that was bad - survivable if that was it - but the uncontrollable shake of her hands and pain in her body informed her that was far from all.
There was crunching - a familiar face ducking into her line of sight as she turned her head. The movement made her vision swim, eyelids drooping dangerously. “Persephone - stay with me.”
She could see the stars then - obstructed by the flashing of ambulance lights as they pushed the gurney up the hill. They twinkled down at her with a promise of peace, her lips twitched up at the thought.
“Stay with me Persephone! Persephone!”
Eyebrows met, the cold droplet against her cheek enough to make her flinch in surprise and open her eyes. She regretted the choice almost immediately as a rain droplet landed directly in one of her eyes, her body reacting immediately - flinching and head twisting to the side. Outside. She was outside in her work scrubs. “What the hell?” Pushing herself off the steadily dampening grass, she did her best to brush away smears of dirt. Persephone could vaguely remember leaving work the night before - she had a day off coming up and had intended to spend it celebrating with Freya and her own fiance… had they gone out a night earlier then planned? Why the hell had either of them allowed her out of the house and to walk to work trashed before passing out on the side of the road?
Grumbling softly to herself, her hands tucked under her armpits for warmth as she began the trek to the clinic - a short fifteen minute walk down the road. She probably looked terrible and was grateful for the showers they had and extra clothing she kept in her locker. The receptionist would probably give her a look - tsk her softly and later run off to gossip and giggle with Persephone’s mother and aunt about it. Wild young things, they’d say.
But the receptionist hadn’t tsked her. In fact the fresh mug of coffee in her hand had fallen and shattered to the floor upon spotting the brunette - her skin falling an ashy coloring as her fingers slammed on the call button on the phone again and again. Not once did her eyes leave Persephone. Not once did she stop looking like she’d seen a ghost. Her whimpering became clear the moment two staff members stepped into the room, the tears present in her eyes. Still, Persephone could find herself nothing but confused.
There was a moment where time seemed to freeze. Where she’d been told she’d died and someone had walked her to the break room to sit her down and try to explain things more gently.
You were struck by a drunk driver. You died before they could get you to the ambulance. It’s been five months. You don’t remember? Sweet girl, we should probably get you checked out - make sure you’re okay.
There was icy in her veins - poison in her lungs - but somehow she’d managed a wavering smile. I’ll change, come back tomorrow for a check up once everything is settled. I’m fine. The promises and falsehoods had fallen from her lips with uncanny ease. She had no idea where to begin, but her mind couldn’t seem to settle. There were too many unanswered questions and for once she was entirely certain this was out of her control.
A four part maze with an empty courtyard in the center where the cornucopia rested. To the north – a glass maze. To the east – a stone maze with shifting walls. To the west – a mirror maze. To the south – a hedge maze riddled with mutts.
Winner: Ash Kim, District 12 - 14 years of age - Rank: 3 - 1 Kill
Back when I was around fourteen, I spent a few weeks sick. I still attended training but I'm unashamed to say I was weak during that time. One of the boys on the training team saw an opportunity and beat me during a sparring match. I was pissed. Months later, after much bullying from him, my trainer chose me to spar. Before my partner could be picked, I asked to choose one myself. My trainer obliged. So I picked up my spear and gave it a twirl. I fucking love the spears. After years of practice with them they feel like a flower in my hands and they're very versatile, but that's a discussion for later. I stepped forward and thrust the pointed end out to the boy and full of confidence said "fight me." I might have included the word asshole in my mind, but my trainer's a bit strict about playing nicely with our teammates during training. He picked up his trident and I with my spear circled the training mat until our trainer gave us the signal. "Scared, Trixie?" I fucking hated his guts. With a growl from my throat, I took advantage of his momentary distraction as he laughed with his friends. With the blunt end of the spear, I knocked him off his feet. Before his hand could raise up the trident in a counter attack, my foot met his wrist and the spear was twirled around with the point at the tip of his nose. I looked him dead in the eyes and between gritted teeth said "only my friends get to call me, Trixie." Then... I kicked him in his nads. I had to run extra laps that week, but I regretted absolutely nothing.
At the river, she slipped in, watching as the crimson liquid started to wash away from her body. She dunked her head under and sucked in a mouthful of liquid before resurfacing and getting out to dry. She stayed there, staring at the darkness reflected in the liquid, listening as canon after canon boomed. At midnight, she watched the sky as face after face flashed. Among them were her friends and the girl from Four. As the arena fell silent again, and a new set of tears danced against her porcelain face.
She didn't know how much time had passed, but she sat by the river and waited. For what? For her death? For a mutt to maul her? Nearby rustling shook her from her trance and she sat up, alert. "Dollface?" Her shoulders relaxed and she sighed. "Laurel!" The two embraced before sitting at the river's edge. Neither spoke. They didn't need to. They'd been friends but already tributes were dropping quickly and soon they would have their own decisions to make.
My first tribute died. I knew styling for a lower district would be this way, but it hurts more than I realized. I barely knew the girl, but when she fell in the arena, it was like a knife stabbed me in my heart. She was a human being. She had a life and family. She had people to return to.
How sad must her family be. How sad must her mother be to have lost her daughter. My mom would be wrecked if I died like that. I... I just...
I knew being a stylist would be hard simply for the fashion and keeping a team together and on the same page. That's not easy in and of itself. But no one told me watching your tribute die would feel this painful. No one told me getting attached was unwise. I should have known better, and maybe I'm still naïve, but... the pain is still real.
Parker was done up from head to toe in a nice pair of slacks and button up shirt. His hair was carefully brushed out of his face and she swore he'd put some muscle on since she'd last seen him. "I told you I'd make you notice me one day, Millie Thomas," he laughed. He crossed his arms over his chest and she hurried to compose herself. "I was in the area of an interview and thought I'd see if you were up for lunch. I figured your answer would be no so you wouldn't have to go to the bakery with me, so instead, I brought lunch here." Damn. He was good.
In the end, she agreed to eat the sandwich he'd brought and sat down across the counter from him. She'd just taken a bite of one half when he reached over and rubbed his thumb against her cheek. "You had some dirt." The cough erupted from her chest as she worked to not choke on her food. At that moment, as she slammed her hand to her chest, a customer walked in looking for assistance. She jumped at the opportunity and waved the lady back into the greenhouse. With her back to him, she could hear Parker yelling at her with a laugh. "I'm not going to give up! I'll see you later!"
Why couldn't life just give her a moment of peace?
