Rosemary Acker was pronounced victor of the 55th annual Hunger Games, however she didn't feel like a victor. The trauma and horrors of the games continues to haunt her for many years to come. Watching her friends die one by one, under the hands of P...
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Rosemary wished time could've stopped. Being with Johanna was like traveling back in time and being with her two sisters. However, time didn't stop for anyone, not for me, you, or Rosemary. She was standing in front of the mirror in District 12's living quarters, looking at herself in the training outfit. Taking a few breaths, she tried to prepare herself for the training which would start any time soon. She knew she would be one of the last ones to arrive, however it didn't bother her. The tight suit fit snugly against her bony figure and she wondered if anyone would see her as weak.
As Rosemary adjusted the straps of her training outfit, she couldn't shake off the feeling of vulnerability. The reflection in the mirror stared back at her, a mix of determination and uncertainty in her eyes. She missed her old self, the familiarity of something unspoken she would never understand. Everything that was going on made her feel sixteen again, the scared and innocent girl who fought for her life- even when she didn't feel like she had one.
As she made her way to the training area, Rosemary only wished no one would come and want an alliance with her. She wouldn't bear the thought of having to lose another ally in the games. She didn't want any of her friends dying. The thought scared her, and the more her mind allowed her to feel, the more it hurt. Each person, each survivor and now tribute had their own story, their own struggles, and their own reasons for being there.
Walking into the training area, the atmosphere was heavy with tension, a palpable acknowledgment of the impending competition that would irrevocably alter their lives. In the center of the room, Johanna swung her ax with precision. Spotting Rosemary, she nodded, a silent pact never to harm each other. No words were needed; the understanding between them ran deep, a testament to their unbreakable bond.
Finnick, not far away, skillfully handled his trident, thrusting it into a couple of dummies with a playful yet deadly grace. Though the dummies couldn't truly be killed, in their minds, the threat of death was as real as life. Rosemary turned her gaze to Enobaria, offering a small smile. They were friends, but she sensed that the impending Games might strain their relationship. She didn't want it to end, but perhaps it was an inevitability they had to face.
Approaching Quartz, who stood by the knives, Rosemary could see the fatigue etched on his face. He greeted her with a smile, acknowledging the shared burden they carried.
"I thought you wouldn't show up," Quartz remarked, turning to face her.
"We don't have another choice, and, well, I'm a little rusty," Rosemary replied, picking up a knife and twirling it between her fingers.
"You're not the one being 60," Quartz teased, picking up a knife and expertly throwing it at the target, hitting the bullseye.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Rosemary quipped, raising her eyebrows as she watched Quartz.
