T/W: Slight themes of self harm/suicide during the beginning.
AGONY WAS ALL SHE WAS: A BLISTERING SORE, DECAY IN FULL BLOOM. The ash was back like her dream, sugarcoating the figures before her in a feverous glow. That familiar shadow, paired with a yellow fog met with her shadow family. They dissaperated in a melting heap: only for her screams to be met with laughter.
Edith wasn't aware that three cannons just sounded for those who died in the bomb. No, she was walking into the flames because her body longed for them.
Edith also wasn't aware that the Gamemakers not only set off an earthquake to make the bomb go off early, but that they had set off the acid fog again. Right behind the bomb plume.
She was drunkenly walking straight into deaths arms. All because the venom in her veins was telling her so.
She couldn't fathom that the yellow fog was back, reaching out towards her with traitorous hands. The venom was moving from the slash on her leg, slinking through her veins and making her revel in every pain, every fear, every burn - she longed for the fire, for ash on her tongue.
Edith.
Blind and drunk on pain, the fog touched her. Acidic and as bright as starlight.
She screamed joyfully as it met her too. It was the yellow of sunflowers she could see through the gaps in the wall. The yellow of her raggedy blanket. It was home. As homely as ever, she could just collapse right here on her bed.
Stop.
In a moment it all disappeared. Replaced with blinding marmalade flames and concrete as grey as the hospital corridors. She wasn't home, but the gnawing sensation burned up her arms in black. Vein like tendrils on her hands appeared as if they were dipped in black paint; they were inky vines crawling up her arms. Where freckles once dusted brown were now pearlescent. Edith finally had the tool to create her own galaxies. A new home.
Please.
Never had she felt so torn, one half begged her dearly. That stupidly, motherly voice: a claw coiling her into the fire. It didn't like the other. Oh, no it hated it. It was bitter, and angry and truly heinous to the eye. It had the power to wash her away in the tide, but it was begging on its knees in an orchestral wave of terror. Pleeing for her to hear how the venom sludge through her veins, her inky lungs.
But Edith had been placed on top of the world by that lovely voice, and that's a long way to fall.
Just stop it Edith.
It's not real.
Get away from the fire. Run from the yellow fog.
There's a path in front of you free from both.
Find the basement. Find the passage. Find the ticket booth.
Get out of there. Don't let the venom in your veins inhibit your thinking.
Whatever they laced that tiger's claws with, its trying to get you to kill yourself.
Listen to yourself.
But what if I dont want to?
She could still hear Meekah and Cassius' screams, a numb, melodic hum that crackled like her old record player. This was her reckoning: a twisted hymnal sung in private performance. Was this what death felt like?
Her arms ached. Her vision lagged. Edith felt everything come to life only to decay in an array of kohl and stars. A screeching cannon boom cradled her unconscious for a moment, or maybe it was a year. For once she had woken to the next sonic boom she felt as old as time itself.
She didn't know what to think.
Her body was pulled by an unknown force of energy: limbs crawled. She called out for help, but she didn't know why. Why was she running away from the warm fire. Mali just lit it to boil the kettle had she not?
No, no. It wasn't Mali, no it couldn't have been Paylor. It was another name of M's. A girl with bleached braids, eyes as gold as the fire that she longed for.
Fuck where am I?
Edith escaped back to the house, that was the plan right? A hand made its way into ashy air, only for herself to snap into reality at the thud of the same hand meeting a wall.
Embers blew in the wind like comets, she was in orbit. Her course was set, and somehow she found herself sliding through the tunnel like a slide. But the slippery dip took longer than usual, weren't the slides on the playground shorter than this? I think I can remember?
Somehow, Edith landed in the subway tunnel with a thud. A booming echo that numbly roared. At that she scrambled down the tunnel, each thud of her right leg led an agonising tearing feeling. Her rations surfaced at the back of her throat, clawing.
I want to go home. It's cold here. The fire was warmer.
Keep going. Keep fighting.
But her body wouldn't respond, Edith just kept moving; one foot after the other. The tunnel door was closing in. It was brighter outside than she remembered.
Her arms moved grudgingly, Edith's body had began to stiffen. She just wanted to melt, but her arms had taken off her jacket and tied it around her waist before her mind could argue. The air felt crisp on her bare arms. Without her jacket, she could see the damage. It was like she was burned. Her hands were charcoal.
Edith scowled, half her brain still woozy, the other was fighting. It had met its maker and was bargaining her way out.
She blinked once. Edith was already climbing a tree. Her limbs begged for mercy, but the damage was done.
Edith blinked again, maybe not just for a second. It was nearing dusk, and her body was tied down to the tree with her jacket in a pathetic attempt not to fall to another tremor. Her arms were bandaged at the edges of the infection on her arms; it was cutting the circulation off.
Her backpack was opened and splayed on the thick trunk next to her. She must have passed out before closing it back up.
She gazed to her leg. Her pant leg had been rolled up above her knee and bandages blocked the spread of the venom moving any further. The wound was exposed. A slash of a tiger. Her leg was completely black below the bandage.
The tiger's claws were laced with venom. Even surviving that zoo without being eaten, only a single scratch and she was automatically dead. It just took a few days to kick in, and seemingly, despite her nauseating state, she realised the venom was making her desire death.
She yearned for fire, to breath in that yellow fog - but she'd get neither now whatever sanity left dragged her out of the townsquare, through the tunnels and up a tree.
Her heart began to pump, her brain fizzing with fear but a tired sleep had tied her down. Edith felt a pain reach her temples, a raw pull as if someone was lifting the skin off her forehead.
Edith wasn't going anywhere.
She greedily gulped down the last of her water and sat the radio before her, the channels crackled as she switched it to 636. No Annie.
.○●•°°☆
"So we are using channel 636? Why that?" Edith pondered.
Meekah pointed to Annie, "She told me it was her favourite number. So I picked it."
"Its my 'lucky' number," Annie corrected her, blushing.
Meekah snorted.
"What, that's it? No backstory?"
"I- uh, I dont know, I just see the number around my town a lot, it just became a lucky number thing," Annie shrugged deflectively.
Edith nodded, "What's 4 like? We heard about Meekah's fields at 11, what about you?"
Annie immediately brightened, "It's amazing, I live in a sandy town, my house is right by the sea so you get the salty air all year long. We fish all the time too, and on cold nights we light a fire on the grass and have a bonfire. And we sing sea shanties and oh! There is this drink my nana makes in the summer that is made from lime and condensed milk and it is the best thing ever, I'm serious."
Meekah chuckled, "God, that sounds amazing but I dont think I could ever sing a sea shanty. The songs we hum to announce break time is enough. They feel pitiful to me."
The strawberry haired girl sulked, "Come on, they're great." Meekah shook her head. "Fine, what about you Edith? Do you sing?"
Edith gulped. "I, uh, I guess? I sing lullabies to my youngest siblings and I did school choir before they banned it-"
Annie immediatly glowed, "Really? Oh my god please sing something! It would make my day."
Meekah groaned, "Make your day? Please don't, we are loud enough, you'll attract the Careers before I can blow them up."
Edith chuckled, "Yeah that's not happening Annie, sorry, Im worried that if I'm bad the Gamemakers will kill me on the spot."
The dark skinned girl immediately laughed, Annie seemed a little shook, mostly at the mention of the Gamemakers.
Edith slid next to her and gave her a side hug, "Tell me more about this drink."
.•○°●☆
Fuck, where are you Annie?
"A- Annie, c-can you hear me?" Edith rasped. She left the device on her lap, her back pack next to it; her hands laid limp downwards. Edith had never been so thankful to herself to bring a backpack with her when she played bait. She had her leftover rations, water, medical supplies and the damned gas mask. No spear though.
But she couldn't focus on that when Edith could feel the blood drain from her arms to her hands. A voice in the back of her head told her not to move them: to stop excess blood flow.
Or maybe it was the venom.
"Annie, I-if you can hear me, please. Come to where we said. I'm in a tree. I'm not going to last long. I- I dont want to die alone Annie. Please talk to me."
Her eyes began to close, she murmured to herself but nothing kept her awake.
She could barely see it herself, but her entire leg with the tiger slash was black. Her other leg held vine like scars pooling at her foot, and her arms the same. Each pooling with vein like discolourations of kohl at her fingertips. Even her eyes were shot with black.
The venom may not have succeeded in convincing her to die, but it was killing her anyway.
Before she could even fathom what was wrong; she was already asleep.
She gave in to the fire. And she was home.
.•○●•°☆
When a Tribute dies that wasn't their own, most Victors in the Sponsor's Lounge usually didnt give a shit.
Maybe if they lost a bet, they would down their drink or smash a glass. But they certainly didn't feel their hearts shatter into a million glass shards that each embedded themselves into a seperate organ until you felt like an old pin board.
Finnick downed his water, it tasted of sour ash. He should be happy. That's another one down. But he didn't feel like celebrating with the rest of them.
No, Finnick Odair was angry with himself. Edith wasn't his Tribute. Instead of helping his own, he was tearing up over a girl he had two conversations with, one of which he stupidly spilled his deepest and darkest secret - (which on upon telling said girl, she then fell asleep next to him half an hour later, and he made the agonising trip of taking her downstairs and to her rooms). Not entirely appropriate behaviour for a Mentor who wasn't in charge of that Tribute.
His actual Tribute was knocked out right outside the barrier of the zoo, if a Gamemaker got bored they could easily dissolve the barriers. Annie would become dinner. Or recieve a tiger slash like Edith and run off until her brain begged for suicide.
But no, he knew they were preoccupied. For the twelve of District 8 had found her downfall. The girl he couldn't stop staring at, Edith Scotch, had been destined to die for nearly three days.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
He still remembered them all placing bets when she entered the zoo. Claudius called it the Menagerie; but no matter how pretty the word was didn't change what was inside. For Caesar had explained it perfectly. It was death valley. Even if you got out alive; a single scratch from any animal would leave you infected within a few days. Early symptoms were rare, mainly just fatigue.
The main symptoms occurred on your deathbed, your skin turned black in the infected area and where blood circulation was low. Mainly hands and feet as it circulated through your whole body. The venom gave no warning, after a few days you were left to rot in your thoughts as both sides of your brain fought: one pleading for death, another biding time.
Even when the girl completed the impossible, that one scratch was the death of her. It was just a matter of when.
Finnick wanted to drown his sorrows in something stronger. Edith was as good as dead. It was why the Career Victors a few metres away were celebrating.
This girl had a grip on him that he couldn't find the words to describe himself. It was searing.
It was like venom.
Cecelia had other things on her mind than the cheers of the other Victors at the state of the girl. She was a seventeen year old, passed out and dying; it disgusted everything about her no matter how much Edith meant to the Mentor. Either way, she blocked them out. Cecelia was doing whatever she could do to get enough money for the anti-venom.
It had been like this for three days.
Woof wasn't allowed to help: he wasn't Edith's official mentor. He was Cade's. All he could do was make sure Cecelia was eating and drinking when she needed to.
Cecelia wasn't backing down. The anti-venom would be nearly as expensive as a large weapon, and after the last Games ending prematurely by Capitol standards from the mass of weapons given by Sponsors: Snow had upped the prices.
"Mr Candelo, she scored a twelve and defeated the zoo with only a scratch, are we really going to allow such potential go to waste? We have barely seen her fight the careers. Cade is still alive; dont we all want to see that showdown?" Cecelia spoke, her voice high and curt. The man had only sniffed into his drink, "...what about you Mrs Seong? We only need a few more donations."
The older lady sniffed and rolled her eyes indignatly, "Miss Sanchez, Cecelia darling, I understand you want this girl to live, she stood in place for your own, but are we being serious here? No matter what she scored, she entered the zoo, I mean seriously?! I think anyone dumb enough to do that deserves their fate."
Cecelia grumbled at the use of "Miss" and her maiden name, it was a name that only the Capitol used. A slap in the face for marrying a District man. Kaif was twice the man than anyone in the damn facility but she kept a straight face though, already trying to come up with a nice way to say how dumb this lady was for not realising Edith didn't hear Caesar's explanation of the Menagerie in commentary.
"Cecelia, she's waking up," Woof murmured, grasping Cecelia's hand tight. He was just a wreck as she was.
"Look Sanchez my darling," Mr Candelo purred, refilling their glasses, "... I need to think of my company here, if my name goes under that girl I'll be a laughing stock! But I'm all up for deals, if she does something entertaining before she passes out next, I'll give you the money. If not, you will have to do something for me."
Cecelia shivered, "Im a married woman Mr Candelo, I hope you know that." He laughed.
"Cecelia, aren't you a dirty minded one, fine I understand. I'll be kind, she did manage to only get a scratch in there after all. How about I will never give a Sponsor to any of your Tributes in the future if you lose?"
Cecelia smiled in a thin line as sharp as a razor, holding in any anger at the audacity this man had.
"I think you have a deal Mr Candelo, now it must be any form of entertainment remember that," Cecelia affirmed and he nodded. They turned to the screen, in hopes that Edith would have enough energy to do something, anything.
Woof ached at the sight of Cecelia. She was like a daughter he could never have, she was the light in his eyes, his best friend. And at the state Cecelia was in, he didn't believe he had it in his heart to watch Edith die, it might just destroy him.
On the pixelated screen; Edith began to stir. Her head moved first, then once she saw her arms she instantly remembered what was happening.
Edith's arms had fully turned a dark charcoal, the skin near her eyes had discoloured to a greying indigo and her lips were blue. She was a corpse.
"Annie?" She rasped. Edith waited a moment; at the silence she laughed.
"Come on Annie dont do this to me, please say something. Anything. I'll even take a Career talking to me through this damned radio at this point."
It only crackled. Edith let out a sob. She didn't know that her tears were stained black until she watched the replay.
She was terrifying. A demon.
"You know its a shame we never got to see her fight against our Careers, it would've been a showdown," Cashmere spoke, Enobaria scoffing.
"We saw her fight Persephone during training, the girl didn't deserve that twelve, I dont know why she got it," the sharp toothed Victor snarled.
"Annie, come on, answer me," Edith spoke over the chorus of mentor commentary. She was quieter now, maybe realising that she could still be in danger from Careers, Woof thought to himself.
"Do you want to know a secret?" Edith whimpered with a weak smile. Later on, this would be the iconic moment all Capitol residents would lean into their screens, as if she was talking to them specifically.
She laughed softly at how pathetic she felt. At how much the pain was scaring her, "I'm terrified of death. Not for the pain, I'm living that right now and it's not so bad," a few Sponsors giggled at the remark from behind the screen. It made Cecelia squeeze Woof's hand tighter.
"Im just afraid of what happens, is it like when you sleep? Do you dream? Or is it nothing? Sometimes I wonder how lucky people are to live. How lucky all of this is, and how we need to make sure it doesn't go to waste."
"Hah! Give me some of what she's on," Haymitch laughed into his drink, Chaff snickered at his friend, the first time he had since Meekah and Markis died.
"I feel like I have wasted my life, there was so many things I never achieved, I never got to be the person I wanted to be. I just lived in books, living between the pages of someone else's life to escape the responsibilities of my own I guess. There are so many things I have never done, I have never been kissed, never seen the sea, never graduated." she chuckled, her throat raspy.
"Annie I hope you're listening, I hope anyone is listening. Please. I dont want to die yet," Edith numbly laughed at herself, the tears had stained her face fully.
"Come on Annie, how about I sing for you? You wanted me to before right? I mean I have already embarrassed myself enough, if they even feel like my monologues are worth screentime."
Edith blinked slowly, her head falling into a lull.
"Come on Edith, snap out of it," she rasped, bolting upright. "Now what genres do you like? I have mesmerised a lot of old music. Did I tell you that when we were talking about 8 together? My parents had an old record player too, with only one scrappy record. Still have it. M-maybe one from that? Would you talk then Annie?"
Woof sighed at the sight of the girl, finally giving in and taking a glance. Black and bruised, the glow in her eyes had been blinked out in an eclipse. Most Victors had quieted, the stir of laughter subduing. But there was one who seemed attached to the screen, attentive, unmoved for the hours she had been unconscious.
The old man narrowed his eyes at the bronze haired boy; maybe Finnick felt responsible since his Tribute was the one they were calling out for. Edith began to talk again, waking up once more.
"H-how about the lullaby I sing to my youngest sister and brother? Would you like to hear that one? It's no sea shanty but it's an old song from somewhere long ago called France. I found the sheet music to it in an old binder from before Panem. Its called La Vie En Rose. Its pretty, the lady who wrote the song even shares my name. Her last name is much prettier though, Piaf, imagine having that as your last name," she rasped, pausing.
"Okay, here it goes," Edith laughed into the sky, fiddling with her locket.
"Hold me close and hold me fast, this magic spell you cast, this is La Vie En Rose..."
The room stilled.
She was angelic, her voice croaked a little, but it truly shined over the sound of death; melodic and beautiful in every little way possible. Haymitch raised his brow, checking out the rest of the room to see if anyone else had felt the same. He wasn't alone, Edith had left the room truly gobsmacked. It made you wonder how angelic her voice would sound when she wasn't on death's door.
The biggest smile was Cecelia's. She was grinning from ear to ear at the sight of Mr Candelo's bug eyed stare.
"...when you kiss me heaven sighs..."
She continued to sing, it was hypnotising for the room. Finnick fell back in his chair, helpless with himself. He was under her siren spell.
"...and when you speak angels sing from above, everyday words seem to turn into love songs. Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be, La vie en rose..."
She sighed.
"...La vie en rose."
Never had Woof seen the lounge this quiet. No one would dare speak. It was long whistle from Mr Candelo that broke the silence.
"Okay Mrs Hall, I think a miracle has been made or you have slipped something in my drink, because dear God I need to hear that voice again."
°•○•○°☆
Edith continued to hum to herself. Refusing to give into the darkness.
"Y-you're lucky I can tell the Careers are on the opposite side of the arena now. If there wasn't that smoke I wouldn't be talking right now. Annie, come on, I sang for you, I spilled my deepest secrets, what more do you want from me? Can you please talk to me? Anyone?" She sniffed, each word fell put of her mouth in a tumble of stutters and croaks.
"I cant feel my right leg anymore," Edith whimpered, her eyes were pearly from the tears through the camera lens.
"Maybe I shouldn't focus on that, y-yeah heh let's not do that. Let's t-talk - talk about you Annie. When I first saw you I had to hold myself back from immediately complimenting your smile, there was just something about it. I wanted to be your friend instantly, but I knew that would never be an option in here. C-clearly I was right-"
A dinging sound faintly hummed from above. It was a heartbeat. A rhythm to replace her own.
Immediately she muted her end on the walkie-talkie. Her arm seared from the new movement but she didn't care. If someone like a Career was listening at that point, she didn't want them knowing she might survive.
"You're kidding me!" Edith croaked, tear began to float and her excaliamation became a roughly ended cough.
The sponsor gift sailed down in between the trees, landing gently in her lap through a perfect gap above.
Her arms ached at the sudden movements, her vision warping. But nothing was stopping her now.
She opened it, inside a large syringe laid, a small placard in the capsule ordered for injection into the infected area.
Anti-venom will begin affects within a minute. Inject in infected area until contents are drained.
Dont need to tell me twice.
Edith punctured herself with the syringe in her leg, the pain seared, causing herself to bite down on her tongue to hold in a scream. Once drained she shoved the syringe back in the capsule and undid her bandages.
Immediately the ashy filter over her vision drifted away, and the voice that was only a whisper now had dissolved into the night air. Edith wiped her face and finished her water bottle.
The dark black and purple discolourations across her body would take some time to disappear, but she instantly felt better. Capitol magic.
On the other side of the small note wrote:
You sing beautifully, be strong love.
- C & W.
Cecelia and Woof. Edith felt her heart bloom with warmth and her head throbbed.
"Thank you," she smiled. And she gladly watched her own personal galaxy across her arms slowly melt into bruised crimson and coffee coloured freckles atop her delicate skin.
It was the happiest she had ever been to not see stars.
4346 Words.