Odesta One Shots

Deja Vu

70th Hunger Games

"Annie Cresta," the escort for District Four read out.

"No," I breathed out. I don't know her well, but it always stings more when it's someone I know. She's my age and goes to my school. She's quiet, mousey, and probably won't last long unless she has some hidden talent for killing like Johanna Mason. She walked up to the stage slowly, the color completely drained from her face. I don't know her well, but my heart feels like it's being ripped out of my chest. If I ever had a sister, I imagine this is what it would feel like to see her chosen for the games. No one volunteers. If I could, I would volunteer for her. But I'm a mentor and I can't. I'm also a boy. If only I wasn't a mentor. I would volunteer in place of the boy and do whatever it takes to keep her safe. I feel obligated to protect her and I'm not even sure why. The name for the boy is read and I hear nothing. Suddenly, I'm being ushered through the doors and Annie gives me a weak smile before I'm shoved into one car and she is shoved into another. I need to do everything in my power to save that girl.

75th Hunger Games

"Annie Cresta," the escort for District Four read out. 

Déjà vu at it's finest. It was five years ago that Annie's name had been read at the games and now it was being read again. Annie burst into tears where she was standing and my first instinct was to run over to her and hug her. But as I moved to go over to her, the escort gave me a dirty look and I stayed put. I needed to be over there. I needed to hug her and tell her it's going to be okay. I also kind of need to tell myself that. I didn't want to go in the arena again, but unless someone volunteers for Annie, I'm going to volunteer so I can be with her and protect her. Aside from that fzct, I'm also in danger of going crazy. Annie in the games again. It would kill her. It would kill me. Mags volunteers and I look over at Annie who's still a sobbing fragile mess. I expect the weight to be lifted off my shoulders now that Annie is not in the games, but all I see in the crying mess that is Annie is that scared little girl who was called up five years ago. Then I see Mags, hugging her. Mags, the woman who has been my mother figure for as long as I can remember. Nothing good can come from this. They were right. There really are no winners in the games. Just survivors.