I am fire—if you want something salty and sweet, with no opinion, I am not the woman for you. I spit flames, often.
Morning broke in a humid haze, the sheets sticking to her tan skin as she rolled over, the sunlight hitting her face. Reaping day, was her first thought as she opened her eyes, looking away from the stream of warmth that fluttered in through the curtains.
Beside her, her twin sister slept with soft snores. It was their last Reaping and then they wouldn't have to partake in the dreadful anticipation of the Hunger Games anymore; they would only have to watch as children were torn from their families and murdered for all of the world to see. But the Sommers family wasn't so lucky. Cassia had taken the blunt of the tesserae, her name being put in ten times, including the seven, which meant there were seventeen tiny white slips of paper with her name on it in the pool. She refused to allow her sister to enter for any more than was needed. Cassia was older so it was only fair that she was the one who risked being reaped.
Cassia leaned over and shook Evelin. "Wake up, we have to get ready," she whispered.
Evelin groaned and rolled over to face Cassia, worry as clear as the new day on her face. "Our last Reaping," she whispered back. "Do you think one of us will be picked?"
Cassia couldn't answer her without lying, so all she said was, "I don't know. We better get up," before getting dressed.
Their mother died while giving birth to them a long while ago, so it was only honorable to wear one of her dresses. It was soft from being worn over the years, and the faded red went well with the olive tones of her skin. In the cracked mirror they shared, Cassia pulled her long dark hair into a low fishtail braid that swept down her back. Turning to look at Evelin, she hid the frown that threatened to break from her emotionless mask.
Her sister wore their mother's pale green dress and her slightly lighter brown hair was tucked behind her ears in short waves.
Both girls stared at each other, knowing exactly how the other felt. Evelin reached out and grabbed onto Cassia's hand that hung at her side. She smiled at her. "We're going to be okay," she said, her blue eyes matching Cassia's in a fruitless attempt at being the light in a dark situation.
Cassia only nodded. She felt as though if she dared to speak only sobs would come out. She didn't believe her sister one bit. Even after the Reaping, they would still live in poverty, still under the greedy hand of the Capitol. But she didn't say any of that; she always kept her thoughts to herself. And that was when their father sighed in the doorway. His glasses were crooked and there was white dotted in his short beard, but his eyes held a happy sadness at the sight of them.
"You both look exactly like your mother," he smiled.
Cassia needed to remain strong. There was no reason to cry, all she had to do was wait until the sun went down and the Capitol workers packed up the Reaping decorations and left. All she had to do was close her eyes and she would be standing in the Square, her eyes looking out among a sea of children ranging from twelve to eighteen. Her finger would sting from being pricked with the heat rolling off of the ground so intensely her dress would cling to her skin. And Evelin stood next to her; all of them silent as the annual video played to remind people of the past.
When she opened her eyes, she stood in the Square.
She didn't care for the District Escort, Rena Fawkes. Every year the woman would be looking as though she had popped out of a candy shop—her curly hair bright yellow, her clothes always ridiculous, and her makeup over the top. The microphone scuffled and Rena cleared her throat before speaking, grinning widely and sparkly into the device. She had green glitter on her lips. "What a lovely video!" She praised, "I would love to welcome you all to the Reaping of the 70th Hunger Games!" She bubbled enthusiastically, but no one in the crowd seemed to match her excitement. She either didn't care or didn't notice, because she continued on speaking. The show must go on.
"Now, lets start with the wonderful ladies!" She chirped and everyone in the Square held their breath as they watched her prance in her heels to the glass bowl full of names. No doubt the cameras would be closing in as her hand reached into the bowl, grasping deeply, weaving throughout the white pieces of paper that contained seventeen Cassia Sommers.
Cassia knew the feeling of anticipation well after many years of attending the Reaping; the pulse in her veins, the thump of her heart, the awareness of Evelin beside her, and the disgusting relief she felt when someone else's name was called—condemned to death.
Rena pulled a piece of paper from the masses and trotted back over to the microphone, taking her time to unfold it before perching her glittering lips against the metal to call out, "Evelin Sommers."
Forgetting to know how to breathe, Cassia felt Evelin start to move past her, the sight of her hair tucked behind her ears pulling Cassia from her shock induced haze; the world around her seemed to move too quickly. Her hand lurched out and she yanked Evelin back into another girl a little too roughly.
Evelin gasped, "Cassia!"
Her feet moved before her mind thought to work as she stood at the back of all of the children, everyone's eyes on her; waiting, watching. The world would be watching. She raised her hand into the air, sweat beading at her back. "I volunteer as tribute!" She said as strongly and loudly as she could muster over Evelin's sobbing.
Rena clapped joyously, the bangles on her arms clinking. "Well then come on up, Dear!" She cheered.
Walking to the stage was harder than she thought. The cries of Evelin pierced the air and she knew one of Evelin's friends must have gone to comfort her, because they quieted after Cassia finally made it to the stage. Fear wanted to grip her by the throat, but she wouldn't let it. She fought it down and approached Rena, who smiles.
"Hello, Dear! What is your name?" She asked happily, Cassia up close now to see the little gold tattoos embedded into the skin around her neck and shoulders.
Cassia looked out at the crowd, not wanting to find her sister or her father, who would surely be in tears by now. The faces of the District stared at her in pity. Her father was a kind man who many knew well, and she knew they were all grieving for him for when her body would come back in a casket. Remain strong, she grounded herself. The tributes would be looking back at this today to see who their competition was. And she refused to appear soft—she couldn't afford it.
"Cassia Sommers," she said in a thick voice. It was taking her a lot not to crumple from the trepidation that grasped at her.
"Oh and I bet that was your sister, wasn't it?" Rena delightedly said. "How exciting!" She breathed, "well, now that we have the girls all settled, let's get on with the boys!"
The tension in the air rose again. Cassia felt numb. The heat crawled along her skin and her throat hurt as she tried to focus on breathing in and out of her nose. She felt like an idiot, she felt like she was part of livestock being prepared for slaughter, but most importantly, she felt brave. Not because she was going to be fighting to the death, but because she had protected her sister. Evelin would be safe from the Games, she could live out her life without fear.
Rena crossed over to the other bowl filled with male names and pulled one out quickly, knowing that she had to keep moving on for the sake of entertainment. "The male tribute for District 4—Lark Danvers!"
It didn't take long for the boy to come onto the stage. Cassia squinted at him in the light. He was very tall and his red hair seemed like fire in the late morning sun. He ambled over to the other side of Rena and stood confidently.
"Now, I present to you the male and female tributes of District 4, Lark Danvers and Cassia Sommers!" Rena cheered and moved back so they could shake hands.
Cassia stared at him as he reached out and they quickly shook hands. Even though he wore a white button down shirt, she could still see the slight muscle move against the fabric underneath. He was strong, probably from fishing at the docks or something else, she wasn't quite sure. But he was a threat. Everyone around her was the moment Evelin's name was called. She couldn't trust a single soul besides her own.
Or so she thought.
A/N: i cant believe i'm writing another finnick story. why do i do this to myself.
anyways, let me know your thoughts down below! i'm excited to see what you all think!
i'll see you soon! xx