Epiphany | Johanna Mason

Chapter Ten

She didn't want to be there. She didn't want to be wearing those clothes. She didn't want to see anyone. But she hadn't left their floor since she'd escaped to see Johanna. That was three days ago. She knew when she had to do something.

So she had stepped inside, the conversation pausing only to say hello. Her fellow mentors, both district six and five mentors, Jackie from district eleven, and Johanna and Blight were scattered across a long table.

Lucinda was significantly less drunk than her counterpart, who was slurring a conversation together while people around him tried not to laugh.

She found her place next to Johanna, smiling at the woman. "Fashionably late, huh?"

Odette chuckled, almost instinctively shifting her chair closer to Johanna. "I obviously was busy with the many things I have to do here."

It was surprisingly easy to talk to Johanna despite her mood. It shouldn't have been surprising. With Johanna, everything was easy.

Soon a drink was pushed in her hands and people were loud around her; laughing, talking. The more they drank, the worse it got.

Odette normally didn't mind, but the loud voices echoed in her ears, resembling screeches. Perhaps any other day it wouldn't have bothered her. She was tuning out, back to wading through the small stream when a girl was killed not far below her, her screams echoing as Odette had tried to outrun the killer. Her own screams when the boy had wrapped the rope around her neck and hissed what he was going to do to her. The blood on her hands. Had Miles sounded like that when he died? Had he made a parting sound that would haunt someone forever?

Suddenly there was a warmth, a strong tug. Her feet worked again, snapping to the ground to brace herself. She wasn't falling though. "Odette,"

She turned her head and saw Johanna. Familiar with her frown and unbrushed hair. Her hand was on her arm, had almost pulled her off the chair. "I'm fine," obviously a lie, but she brushed her skirt off and pretended to not notice. The noise around them didn't die down. Only Johanna had noticed. "Really, just tired," she assured her when Joanna's hand stayed on her arm, almost squeezing.

Hesitantly, she pulled her arm back, nodding. "Do you want another drink?"

Odette nodded again, and Johanna left the table. She didn't have to, every few minutes someone appeared to tend to their needs. But the table was rowdy and she found herself wishing she hadn't come after all.

Another round of laughter erupted as Johanna returned with their drinks. Odette clutched the glass, focusing on just that. We're they always that loud? Odette didn't remember. Mentally, she was still standing over the boy who tried to kill her and Manila. Except this time, Miles was next to them, dying, blaming her. She might as well have killed him. The difference wasn't big and there was enough blood on her hands anyway.

She was vaguely aware of the string of curses as a loud sound echoed through the room. Louder than their voices had been. More terrible, too. The rational part of Odette's brain knew she was in the Capitol, but it sounded like a cannon. Like the one that announced her a winner, the one that haunted her dreams. The one that declared miles dead.

A splash of liquid landed on her. It took her a moment to register it. Her mind wasn't at the table, wasn't with what was going on around her.

Her light clothes were vividly red. Her skin was covered in the liquid. She gasped, pushing backward. The chair stumbled. There was that damned sound again. Blood was on her, another cannon had gone off. It was like staring at her bloody hands after her first kill.

There were voices around her. Were they going to hurt her too? She forgot how to breathe, forgot she was safer.

Someone grabbed her. They were going to kill her. Would they try to cut her open, too? She couldn't let that happen, she didn't want to die. The weight in her hand came suddenly, as if she just remembered she had a hand and a weapon. Without thinking, she swung in the direction of the person.