(Fun fact: this song reminded me of the games.)
"That was so brutal!"
"I told you my sister was the best."
Athena just smiled as the words burnt her ears, conjuring up the memories.
She was nearly grateful that 4 won the games and that she didn't need to bring either of her tributes home, this year it didn't feel right, even if that meant they were to die.
She hated how excitedly Clove and Cato were discussing Brion's murder while the girl was trying to teach him how to throw knives.
2 was always a bloody and brutal place, as it is known and said before, her uncle had been killed by her father when he was alive, but she had once again showed of that despite having her games over, that she was still capable of killing.
Those troublesome people staying even further from her then before, her neighbors not bothering her about the noise and getting discounts for a glare... Reminding them all why she is called the Reaper through a single tally mark on her kill count.
Many victors went rusty and she had showed that she hadn't even tarnished.
She sat on the back porch, watching the kids and their training.
How long has been since the 73rd? Time was racing away from her and breathing down her neck, whispering for her attention.
She started to not answer calls, not caring if it was Finnick, Wiresse or whatever victor she was acquainted with, even Johanna, feeling a weight in her stomach at the sight of her brother's laughter.
Once in the arena she will not be able to protect him anymore, it will be him against 23 others.
She heard of victors passing on, she was killing herself by smoking, while they hung themselves, jumped of a cliff or set an 'accidental' fire...
So many ways there was to kill a victor outside of living down their pitiful lives... Why couldn't Athena stay the same little girl that, like everyone else, idolized the idea of being selected to participate? Why did she wake up from that dream? She wishes she never would have.
"Athy!" She looked at Cato. "Can you do any better?" He boasted, not hitting bullseye but near it.
She grinned, hiding her troubles from the kids.
"Oh of course I can." Standing to join them. "Gimmie a knife Clove."
----------------------------------------------
The night was worst for her mental, looming in the shadows, glaring down at the sleeping boy before she closed the door behind her, leaning her back against it as she stood in the hall, hand tightly on the door knob.
Athena wondered if she should kill Cato.
It would be quick, painless.
He'd be safe from all of this.
He would never be reaped, he'd never be hurt, he'd never be objectified, he'd never risk dying in the arena.
It would be by her own hands, in their home.
And he'd be free.
Free from this hell.
She balled up her other fist, cutting divots into the wood of the door.
She would never be able to live with herself but she wouldn't need too since he'd be dead.
And then there is Clove, that girl looked up to both of them, she could kill her too, too not make her the next to suffer.
She could kill all three of them tonight .
But that would be selfish.
She'd steal his chance of winning.
But winning doesn't matter.
She could kill them
She should kill them.
She should have killed them.