VENUS《 FINNICK ODAIR

Chapter 2. THE REAPING.

THE CRIMSON, CORDUROY PINAFORE SMILED UP AT EDITH, BEARING BUTTONED TEETH THAT BECKONED HER TO TASTE THE IRONY IN DRESSING UP FOR HER DEATH SENTENCE. But she slipped the scraps on anyway, ignoring the clawing felt in the areas the cream button up underneath couldn't quite reach. The outfit would blend in within the sea of brown leather, red cotton breachers and wrap around dresses; allowing her the slightest bit of peace in knowing she could blend within the crowd just as easily as a silly piece of parchment in a glass bowl.

Edith scrunched up her nose at the thought. Being seventeen, it was her second last year in the running. And instead of feeling gracious towards her luck, Edith sent a slanted stare at the girl trapped in the mirror before her. Being the eldest of the lot, she felt the obligation to at least do the bare minimum by keeping a smile on her face and her arms open. For if Edith couldn't keep the Med Kids out of the running, she felt she needed to at least have the decency to not chuck a fit about it in front of the younger lot. But either way, the tears still trailed down her malnourished skin, relieving streaks of her face free of the caked grimy dust of the Hospital Basement. She could deal with a wash.

But before she could berate herself any longer, the siren whooped, raising goosebumps over her arms. A ringing that swirled in beat with the sloshing of her empty stomach. Her head throbbed. Edith knew she could mask the pain in her face, but it didn't stop her from imagining the younger girls from having their throats slit, dampening their piggy tails with ruby liquid.

Splashing water on her face and tying her laces up on her scuffed, leather boots caked in yesterdays mud, she forewent the braids she usually styled with the green ribbon. Lucy would wear them today.

Maybe she could hide behind her chocolate hair, she thought glumly, brushing the knotted wefts of curls so they would sit evenly. They liked to stick up, the tendrils reaching up to the sky like a market potted sunflower in bloom.

Despite the want for a way to rebel against herself, to disregard her need for a schedule, she kept one part of her usual routine in check: placing her mothers silver locket into her button up pocket.

It was bitter-sweet.

Edith was attached to the piece of silver and tin, delicately engraved with the moon cycle and fashioned with a moonstone that shined atop of the small pendant like a crystal Venus star. Itself was a small fortune but she never would pawn it. Inside; one half laid a mirror, the other kept an old piece of paper with a folded birthday card, completely covered in well wishes from everyone she loved. It was her safety blanket. The nicest thing she owned.

She knew that the notion was futile. So
Edith wasn't keeping it in her pocket to have her mother at her side. Pickpockets ruin simple ideas of sentiment like that, and she couldn't even recall a single memory from her parents. It was just a locket, a safety blanket. The real treasure was the old birthday card from her family inside.

So today, she wore the locket so she had a token for herself if her name was fished out of the glass bowl today, so she had something to remind her of home when Careers were slicing her into ribbons with a katana.

A soft knock pawed at the door, dragging the girl from the mirror.

"Sorry, I slept in," Edith began to the small, dark haired girl who opened her door. Jaida, only 12. Her first year, and the youngest of the Med Kids to be placed in the reaping today. "The others ready honey? Did Vi do your hair?"

Jaida nodded fervently, zipping past the rackety, timber door for a hug. Edith returned it, placing a soft kiss on her freshly brushed hair. Jaida had been taken in by Paylor six years ago when a factory fire burnt her home and family into powdered ash. Two parents dead, a brother gone, and a six year old girl left all alone in ICU with a damaged larynx. And when the only open orphanage didn't feel up to taking in a a mute six year old, Paylor took her in.