☆ CHAPTER ELEVEN! ☆
011. excuse me
|| HOUSE OF MEMORIES ||
❝when your fantasy,
becomes your legacy,
promise me a place
in your house of
memories. ❞
➳➳
THE INTERVIEWS HAD ended in uprising.
The tributes were sent to their rooms, and the affluent members of the Capitol were left with an earthquake between them and the games ( something they held too close to their chests) that made it seen like it wasn't possible to continue, even if they knew the earthquake would stop. Eventually, it would turn into a tremour that planes could fly despite of -like the plane that would take us to the arena- and then, it would just be a memory that somebody could add to the history books.
I didn't have much hope; I had the same amount inside of me when I caught the letter an Avox had been trying to stuff through my room's door, or after I had read the letter and decided that I would give the writer one more chance. Why not? I thought after taking a moment to stare that the night sky that looked like it had been cleared of all clouds; I was certain I had sealed my fate before I even took the first step out of the door.
Sparky, meet me on the roof when you get this.
➳Fish face.
It didn't matter what he had to say, or if it was him that wanted to say something at all, when my words were so prominent in the sea of tribute interviews. In this water, Finnick wasn't the predator- I was the tiger shark that would get hunted as much as it killed in the end, and it would be me that stained the crystal water pink. In that sea Finnick was a dolphin that could watch the shark swim, even when it never actually got in the way. In that scenario, I was the one that swam the fastest.
And yet I no longer planned on swimming alone.
Instead my plan was tainted by the fish I wanted to kill, or by the ones that wanted to help me sustain my life. In this case Carmella was the one that played through my mind until the elevator door opened with a small hush, and her plan for me that I would adapt ever so slightly to create a better result.
When I looked out, it reminded me of each and every time I had been lead to the roof before.
It never changed; no matter how much I or the people around me had the roof was just the same as it was when I first found it. The railings were polished and the chairs were still positioned just far enough away for nobody to get hurt and the view- it was beautiful. I watched the stars as I walked towards the chairs, then at Finnick who was watching me from the railing.
"Why are we here?" I asked while I scanned him. He was wearing a sweatshirt that looked like it was years old, and increadibly similar to the one he wore when he first found me.
"A reminder." Finnick replied. He didn't look as relaxed as I expected him to be, his hair was pulled so that it looked like it's own jungle on top of his head and his clothes looked like they had been stretched out. "Your interview was quite stimulating for someone that had already given up."
As the clouds covered the half moon Finnick took a seat next to one of the glass tables so that his reflection was staring at me through it. It was like he had made two pairs of his eyes- eyes that were trying their best to soften the parts of me that he had made so hard. He didn't give me the option to look away; he pulled me down to sit on the chairs before I could even consider taking a step.
"Finnick-"
"No. Lorna just- just let me finish."
"Please just listen to me."
Finnick's hands were shaking slightly, but I didn't know if it was something to do with the fierceness in his eyes or the utter terror in mine as I pleaded for him to stop. I needed him to stop, I didn't know what I would do if he kept speaking so kindly to me after what he had done before.
"Maybe you were right about me." I tried as I looked up at the stars. "I'm not a good sister; I've not been a good anything after Remy's death. I continued to torture myself and everyone around me until they felt as bad as I did, or until they gave up and let me be. I've ruined Lillian's childhood by not being there for her- she can hardly function as a little girl."
I didn't quite feel tears swell up in my eyes as I said it, but I could imagine the many tears that had streamed in patterns on my cheeks all the other times I had been where I stood. It was like the ghost of each one had joined me to make sure that I didn't feel the need to feel anything other than assurance. I still couldn't do it- I felt more and more with each passing moment.
He smiled at me as I took a final breath, right when he rubbed my exposed arm to ensure that I knew that he was there. I knew, because I also knew that the only reason he was giving in was because he thought I was too.
"But I still can't win the games." I concluded, right as his comforting hand on my arm pulled away.
"Why?"
"Because it isn't about me anymore, or you. Or any one person in that arena."
Each word seemed to crack Finnick's exterior that much more, until the final blow chipped it so that there was a hole running right through the middle. When I glanced at him, he looked like a paragon of emotions next to me.
"Carmella told me about a rebellion, a rebellion that she thinks could actually work." I could just about whisper it.
"What does that have to do with you dying Lorna?" By now Finnick's voice had risen dramatically and he knew it. He took a breath before continuing to speak a little quieter, even if it was still louder than I had ever been "Didn't she tell you who started it?"
"Yes." The word almost choked me as it left my throat. "Katniss Everdeen."
"Have you even been listening?"
"Don't you think that if it was me that started this then it would of happened sooner? It's been two years since my games and the only thing I've noticed about this rebellion is what my stylist told me a day ago."
Finnick couldn't find a reply to that, even if he had been thinking about this rebellion a lot longer then it had even been a possibility in my mind. In the end that was the major difference between the two of us- I had been forced to think about every possible ending since the day that I was born, and he didn't have that same trait.
"I'm not the one that needs to live- Katniss is. It doesn't matter if you want me to live, or if for some reason I agreed to try; this is something bigger than that. This is something that my stylist seems to believe in- something that I think I believe in too- so that I can finally be a good sister and help Lillian have a good life."
"No." Finnick seethed- his voice rose with the next step he took up from the chair. "Don't pretend you're being selfless here Lorna, you're only thinking about yourself. I know you, remember? I was the one you told when you thought that you were a monster- I was the one that saw how worried you got when you realised that killing those tributes somehow felt ok."
"The rebellion, that's another useless excuse you'll give yourself to try and keep some twisted la la land where you're guilty intact; you loved being able to protect your brother. I won't accept that you would give your life for Carmella and a rebellion that you don't even think you have a part in. It's bullshit!"
"Finnick." I choaked, this time through real tears that the ghosts of the old ones seemed to inhabit.
"You are selfish. You don't want to try and fight because if you do- you don't know if you'll be able to stop it anymore."
"No." I denied. Finnick knew me, but not as well as I thought. His face had turned more sour than it had ever been in his life as his cheekbones became dusted with the most heated red that it could. I had sparked something- I had found the version of Finnick Odair that he had been trying to ignore since his own Hunger Games.
"That isn't me; Finnick that's you."
His chest grew as he breathed out. Then, as the clouds uncovered the moon that looked liked it had been made with silver instead of rock, it dawned upon him that what he had said was exactly what he didn't want to slip out. This was not all about me; it finally managed to hit me that this was about Finnick too.
"Fine. Then when did my problems make you want to kill yourself?"
He had changed so much, maybe I had done too much damage already. It was clear in the way his shoulders dropped and the defeated look that crossed over his normally confident face. Somehow the real Finnick had finally come to talk, just like how the real me had begun to shy away in favour of the robot I wished I could be.
"It isn't you Finnick. I want to make sure that another person I love doesn't die for nothing; this time I need to make it right."
I turned then to walk away, sure that he had heard enough for one night. There was only one more thing that I had to say, but when I glanced back to see the way the moon reflected off of his own shine-filled eyes I couldn't let it pass between my lips. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't just doing it for Katniss- that the real reason I was being so cruel was because I simply wasn't a good enough person to deserve to survive any longer.
I still would have sacrificed if Katniss Everdeen wasn't thrown in as the perfect excuse; without her it would of been for for him.
••••••••••••
1792 words.
And just like that
all the feelings
are exposed........