Sparked || The Hunger Games [2]

chapter one

Dahlia Everdeen

      I can't escape.

      Dahlia found herself frequently venturing outside the district, seeking solace in the snow-covered woods. Unlike her usual cautious nature, she couldn't escape the relentless pursuit of cameras and the constant scrutiny of the public. It had been barely a week since the games, and she felt as if she was spiraling into madness, unable to break free from the grip of her newfound fame. Winning the games had not brought her the peace she had hoped for; instead, she was plagued by strange occurrences, hearing whispers and seeing visions that haunted her dreams.

      Dahlia didn't dream of her own demise; instead, she dreamt of the people she had witnessed die, including her family. The treatment she received from them, as if she were a fragile doll on the verge of breaking, only added to her distress. Amidst the chaos, Dahlia found solace in the gentle chirping of birds near the frozen lake. It seemed that the songs of birds and the act of tending to wounds were the only things that strangely brought her comfort, something she had never experienced before.

Katniss, who had always been the same, acted differently towards Dahlia. Dahlia noticed this change and felt a sense of unease. Peeta, too, had become distant, and even his name now brought her guilt. He had stopped talking to her completely and avoided her presence.

The only semblance of normalcy Dahlia found was in the company of Prim and her mother. Thinking of her mother brought a smile to her face. Since her mother's return, she had become more caring and helpful, tending to wounds and caring for the sick. Dahlia cherished the time she spent with her mother, who was usually shaken and distant.

      Dahlia's heart pounded in her chest as she tensed, her breath coming in quick gasps. She had heard twigs snap and snow crunch behind her, and someone had moved closer. She quickly brought the knife from her sleeve and raised it, turning around. To her relief and annoyance, she saw it was only Gale.

    "Easy, Dahlia. It's just me." Gale defended himself, raising his hands.

      "Seriously, Gale?" she asked, lowering her knife as her heart pounded in her ears. "Please don't do that."

    "You appeared troubled, so I followed you and sat down next to you. 'What's wrong?' I asked."

      "The tour," Dahlia replied bitterly, her throat constricting as bile rose.

      I'll have to stand upon a stage gloat about how grateful I am to be alive, but am I happy to be alive? No, she wasn't. Dahlia wasn't content; her life wasn't precious to her. When she questioned why she had sold her soul to the Capitol and won the games to extend her life, she pondered her sisters. They were the primary reason behind her actions. She didn't want them to witness her demise. However, now they had witnessed her transformation and the person she had become. Shocked, she realized that it wasn't truly worth it. Nevertheless, she would gladly fight numerous battles for the happiness and well-being of her sisters, even if it meant enduring the Capitol's relentless attacks. The Victory Tour was just one of those battles. And I will win, but I will not be strung along, I will say what I feel, not from some meaningless words that are on a card. Rue and Thresh, they deserve better than that.

     "When does the tour leave?" Gale asked, idly picking at the frost-covered grass.

      "In a few hours," she replied with a sigh, closing her eyes.

      "Then let's stop thinking about it for a while," Gale said. She opened her eyes to find him holding out his hand. "Come on. Let's go."

      Dahlia firmly grasped his hand, and he helped her stand up. She followed Gale through the woods, although she was familiar with some parts but not others. Only Gale and Katniss could fully navigate the woods, and they knew every inch of it like the back of their hands. Dahlia was led to a clearing where she could see three snares. Two had caught a squirrel, and the other had caught a rabbit. Gale approached the snared squirrel, while she went to the snare that held the rabbit. As she untied it, her hands shook violently, as if they were the only things she could do lately. Dahlia struggled with the ropes of the snare and jumped when Gale's hands covered hers.