𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑫𝑨𝑯𝑳𝑰𝑨, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒓

𝑷𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝑨𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝑺𝒏𝒐𝒘

Dahlia was the first person Katniss asked to see when she woke up. After losing her sister, there was no one else she wanted by her side. They were each other's second chance. Dahlia got the opportunity to be the big sister Cove had once been for her, the big sister she didn't get to be for Lavender and Rosie. And, in turn, Katniss got the big sister she had always longed for. Someone that she didn't have to be strong around, someone to offer her a shoulder to cry on, someone to protect and defend her when she couldn't fight for herself. And when no one else understood the pain of grief, Dahlia was there to give her hope that there was still life after so much death. And when everyone else wanted the Mockingjay, Dahlia wanted Katniss Everdeen.

Many of the Victors were temporarily moved into the Presidential Palace while the rebels tried to sort out the mess the nation had been left in. Katniss demanded Dahlia and Finnick be placed in the room next to her. No one dared to argue against a grieving woman. And when Katniss finally plucked up the courage to explore their luxurious accommodation, Dahlia was right there with her. Even as they approached the guarded greenhouse which housed the man responsible for all their suffering.

"Sorry, ladies." One of the soldiers spoke up, one hand resting on his gun while the other gestured for the two women to stop. "Can't let you pass."

Dahlia was about to protest against him, mouth opening in preparation for an argument when another voice interrupted, "Let them in. On my authority." Whipping around to see who was granting them access, Dahlia was pleased to find Commander Paylor standing atop the snow-covered steps gazing at them. "She has a right to anything behind that door. They both do."

As the guard obediently moved to carry out his orders, the three women exchanged nods of gratitude and acknowledgement. Because Paylor knew that both girls deserved to confront the monster that lay beyond those doors. She knew they would never find peace without first battling their inner conflict.

Entering the greenhouse felt like stepping into the lair of a dragon. The warmth was comforting enough to lure them into a fall sense of security, but they knew there would always be danger lurking around the corner. A great beast prepared to pounce, ready to feast upon their doubts and fears until they were left mere skeletons of their former self. But Katniss and Dahlia had escaped his clutches once before. Now they had returned to slay the dragon.

As the doors were closed behind them, the two girls found themselves wandering down a gravel path lined with gleaming white rose bushes. The plants were pristine, as one would expect, not a single leaf out of place. A large swatch of perfection, untainted by the horrors of the man who tended to them.

But in the middle of the patch, protruding proudly above the rest of the flowers, was one single black dahlia. One tiny speck of darkness polluting the innocent purity of the dainty white petals. The soil had been disturbed around the root of the plant and the dahlia flower itself had seen better days, as though someone had frantically tried to dig it up or rip the head from the stem. Yet the black dahlia still bloomed gloriously above the white roses, casting all of them into its shadow. An imperfect blossom that persisted in the face of adversity. An infectious weed that refused to be uprooted.