At her Games, Calla didn't have a token as expensive as the hair clip. She didn't own anything remotely as fancy; no jewelry, no gold. However, her old token was of emotional value to her.
The braided leather string had belonged to her mother. Before her Games, Calla had decorated it with wooden and metal beads alike. Not only did it remind her of home, but it was also the most beautiful of her old belongings. She was heartbroken when she lost it in the arena.
Her token slipped from her hands with Bentley. She lost it when he died. It must have fallen into the dirt when she ran from the careers and the young boy's screams.
The memories of her mother and her cousin were taken from her the very same day. But, at least, she had given the Capitol a good show. In the end, that was the only thing that mattered. The masses had to be entertained. And they were shouting as she ran.
Three years later, she still thought of the bracelet. She wondered if it still was in the arena, buried under the mud. Then, maybe, she would see it again, once she entered the arena a second time.
------ seven ------
"I don't like the plan," Calla repeated, when she was alone with Johanna again. It was already past two a'clock. The conversation kept the girl up for the rest of the short night. Johanna, on the other hand, stayed up so Calla wouldn't be alone. Thus, they ended up sitting on the vast sofa in Johanna's living room, enjoying the silence to a cup of hot cacao.
"I care about you more than I care about the rebellion. Never in a million years would I choose Katniss over you," the brunette continued. Her eyes were drawn on the victor from District 7. Getting lost in her brown orbs, Calla realised that she didn't possess the strength to abandon her friend. "I want you to live."
Johanna released a shaky breath. Carefully, she placed her hand in Calla's. Although her hands felt cold and weathered, they gave the tribute from District 6 comfort. Her hands were also larger and stronger than Calla's. They made her feel secure.
"Hey." Johanna had brought her back to reality. "Whatever happens in there, you'll always be my number one priority. I promise you that you will survive the arena. And if it makes you sleep better at night, I promise you that I will save myself too. But the rebellion can give us so much more. A new life, starting with Snow's death. The Capitol going up in flames. Hell, maybe the rebellion can even bring us happiness. You know, I want all this for us."
Not once did she let go of Calla's hand. She was clinging on to it for dear life. "And to get any of those things, we'll have to fight not only for each other, but for a cause. For this cause, we need to keep fire girl alive. As her ally she'll keep you alive. I can take care of myself."
Water rose in the brunette's eyes, yet she didn't let a single tear fall. She had to be strong. Weakness was fatal in Panem."I want to take care of you too. You don't always have to fight every battle alone. I should be there for you too." Before she could start crying, Johanna pulled her into a hug.
Most of the people she cared about were long gone. President Snow had made sure of it. With them a big part of Johanna Mason had died. She was lost in misfortune, surrounded by chaos. But Calla had been her guiding light, helping her in times of need.
"You have given me enough. Let it be my turn to help you."
"It's always your turn to help me."
------ seven ------
Three years ago, the victor stood at the edge of the roof, staring down at the flashing lights of cars and street signs. Every once in a while, a bird would fly by. Calla envied them for their freedom. While she was stuck in the madness of the Capitol, between lavish dresses and vain crowds, they could go wherever they pleased. Unlike her, birds were born free.
When she was younger, she had always wanted to fly. That night, after having drowned too many glasses of alcohol, she had felt it was the right time to try. Not every bird survived its first trip out of the nest. Nevertheless, they all tried. Death didn't scare the girl. She had come face to face with the grim reaper too often.
Just when she was about to fly somebody reached for her hand. A cold (yet strong) hand was placed in hers. Looking up, she found the girl from the day before staring back at her. Her expression was indifferent. Her face was deprived of any emotion.
"I've tried it before. It's not worth it," she spoke, after a moment of silence, not making any attempt to let go of the brunette. "You see the wavering square?" Calla looked at her in confusion. Johanna sighed. Then she took out an apple, throwing it at the spot she had pointed at. To Calla's surprise, it was thrown right back at Johanna.
"A force field?" the girl from 6 breathed out.
"It's not like you're the only one who thought about jumping." After her Games, Johanna Mason stood at the very same edge. However, back then, there was no one who kept her from running into a force field. No one was there to hold her hand.
------ seven ------
words: 1490
written: 23 June, 2021
A/N: So it's been a while since the last update. Honestly, I don't know if I would have updated hadn't it been for @Weirdest__Lesbian and her comments under the last chapter. I wanted to give her more stuff to smile at like an idiot.
Honestly, I just hope this chapter isn't too tacky and you liked it. I'll update more frequently now (once every week or two). I also have a new fanfiction on Wattpad. It's a "The 100"/Commander Lexa fanfiction. So feel free to check that one out.
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Misfortune // Johanna Mason
Fanfiction'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...
seven
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