Paper Cranes 𓅨 THG WTM

That Girl.

The mouse was winning. Astrid was staring it down as she ate her meager portion of tesserae oats. She stirred it with her spoon as she tried to force it down her throat, the dry scratchy feeling doing nothing for the taste. The mouse seemed to be gloating, holding up its scavenged oat as if saying, 'I'm a rodent and still live better than you.'

Finnick winced and sighed sadly, "Oh love..." 

Johanna smirked at him.

It was fed, probably warm, in the walls of the Sallow house. It could live its entire life (granted that it lived maybe seven years). It could have children, and give them a life that was free of the horrors Astrid faced. The fifteen-year-old glared. The mouse was winning.

She pushed the now empty bowl away from her before standing up and making her way to the back of the house, pushing open the door to the back room. She composed herself and made her way to the lump in the blankets, quietly snorting at the way her sister slept, curled up in a ball, and buried under at least eight blankets.

Johanna smiled at the little girl and rested her head in her hand.

The teenager pushed the blankets down and brushed away the few tangled hairs that lay in front of her eyes before lightly shaking her awake, "Stel... Stel. Wake up." 

 A sleep-filled groan huffed out of the ten-year-old's mouth, drawing a small chuckle from her sister. 

The fifteen-year-old's smile fell, "C'mon Stel. It's the fourth."

The faces fell across the room as they realized what day it was. The lighthearted mood vanished.

July Fourth. Reaping day. The day when the capitol would produce stuck-up snobs to come to the districts, kidnap some children, and force them to compete for the love of its citizens so they might not die.

Stella's childish smile fell as she clung to her sister. Astrid had never kept the fact that she accepted Tesserae a secret, not even from Stella. 

The little girl knew that her sister was in danger. She whispered, "How many?"

 Astrid drew back, "Thirty-six." 

Sejanus furrowed his brows, "How can your name be in that many times?" 

Beetee cleared his throat and stated, "After the fifteenth games, the capitol extended an offer to all of the districts, enter your name into the reaping more times and get supplies for your family, food, water, and lye soap. Of course the most common districts to accept the tesserae are border districts and poorer ones, like 3 and 8."

Sejanus looked somewhat confused but nodded in thanks.

The ten-year-old nodded, her brown curls bouncing.

Astrid forced a smile, "Go eat. I'm gonna wake up Dad." 

Stella nodded and bounded out of her room, heading down to the kitchen. Astrid sighed and stood, making her way to her father's room. She opened the door and walked in, stepping over the glass morphling bottles strewn across the floor. She scowled and picked up her father's large tennis shoe, throwing it at the man-shaped pile on the side of the bed.

Her father had presumably come home in the middle of the night, probably high on morphling, and had collapsed next to the bed in his drugged stupor. Astrid often referred to him as 'that addicted bastard' in her head.

Finnick scowled at the screen and fought the urge to throw his shoe at the screen.

Her father had gotten into a fight at work about seven years ago and had broken his arm. The mediocre District 8 doctor had wrapped it, given him the highly addictive pain medication, and sent him home to his then eight and three-year-old daughters.