oceandust + finnick odair

.2

        { just a quick a/n: the timeline of this story will focus on the present,  ie. everything that is happening AFTER the first chapter (the train ride) until mockingjay essentially, but there will be flashbacks to moments during reverie's games and time in the capitol that will provide more context to the relationships she has with other characters.} 

        Twenty-three. My head snaps around, trying to catch a glimpse of my district partner across the distance. Twenty-two. I press two fingers to my throat, feeling for a pulse that would tell me if this was all real and not just another night terror. It's there, thudding insistently against my fingertips, but the pulsations quickly gets swallowed up by the thundering vibration of the countdown. I squeeze my eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath. I can't remember my mentor's advice. What had Finnick told us? What was I supposed to do when that countdown ends and the real one, the one representing my life, counts down instead to its final seconds, minutes, hours, days?

        Get something small and get out. It'll be too dangerous for you.

        The bloodbath isn't worth the risk. I'd likely not be able to hold my own in close combat, not when I scored a 6 in training. I force my eyes open again and try to steady my breathing, staring straight for the Cornucopia in the center of the twenty-four podiums. Would I risk it anyways?

        Eight. The girl on my right, standing a few feet away from me, makes a noise, and I turn my head to see her fumbling to catch something from falling—her token? My lips part and I watch in horror as the small wooden ball drops the short distance from her fingertips to the ground. It happens so fast, my brain barely gets the opportunity to process it. The ground surrounding her podium seems to break apart and launch up as the planted landmines detonate without a moment's hesitation. She is immediately consumed by the blast, and I scream as chunks of Earth and her remains come hurling my way.

         Three. I brace my arm over my face and struggle to maintain my balance, gasping and spitting up dirt. My ears are ringing painfully, unable to handle all of the screaming. Is it me? Is it everyone else? I stumble off of my platform as my legs give out, heart in my throat as the unnerving horn sounds and the Hunger Games officially begins. I hit the grass with a thud, heaving as I puke up everything our mentors had made me and my partner Xander eat that morning. I feel the cold grass against my cheek, my eyes blurring with tears. I'm barely getting to my feet, dizzy and disoriented and horrified, when Xander is suddenly there. He shoves a serrated dagger into my left hand and a bag against my chest.

         "We need to move!" He's screaming in my face, and then realizing that it's futile, he pulls me along with him down the field, away from the massacring happening behind us at the Cornucopia. I blink back my tears and choke back my vomit, willing myself to keep up with him.

*

       Home is different.

        Moving our things out of a house we'd once adored and deciding what to throw and what to keep felt like a cruel punishment for my mother and I, who were forced to sift through the belongings of a ten year-old boy that didn't live to see his big sister return home.

        Aiden had been sick. It was pneumonia, and despite it being an illness that was treatable, we couldn't afford to help him enough before things progressed from bad to worse. He was horribly sick on Reaping day, but coughing like a drum he'd still managed to threaten me in the Justice Building with a teary smile. You better come back. If you don't, I'm never talking to you again. It was the stupidest thing I'd ever heard, but it was so him that I could only wipe my tears and nod, a laugh hesitating on my lips. Of course, I said. Wouldn't dream of it.