So I was staring at this picture of Katniss and Peeta, well drawn picture of them cuddling in a bed, with the caption: No More Nightmares. Then I started to think. For clarification, Cato won the 74th Hunger Games. The rest you'll figure out.
I do not own anything besides Darcy.
Haymitch stared at his newest victor, Darcy Taylor.
For the second time in two years, he took in his female tribute.
Former female tribute.
Her hazel orbs were fixed on the blank TV.
She was in no state to hear more about the games she won, the 3rd Quarter Quell, the 75th Hunger Games.
"Well, if you two are going to do nothing all day, then we should get going. The train leaves tomorrow morning." Effie brushed off her bright yellow, silk skirt that clashed awfully with her green hair.
He could see through her lies and knew she replayed the games in her mind.
The safest place she had, was a nightmare she could never awake.
"What do you see when you close your eyes?" This was the first time since the games ended that Darcy had spoken.
The recap had to be postponed with her mental and physical state.
Darcy flinched at her own voice, she could barely recognize the sound.
Haymitch didn't want to answer, because it wouldn't be a good one.
It would only make problems worse.
Her neck cracked as she craned it to get a good look at him.
He shifted his gaze to the half empty bottle in his hand.
"Black. Nothing. Obviously." He let out a drunken laugh.
Darcy pursed her lips together before pulling them apart once again, "When you went back to District 12 last year, with no victor, how did you feel?"
The small girl closed her eyes, while Katniss Everdeen flashed through her thoughts.
"I think that's enough small talk for one night." Haymitch staggered to his feet before fleeing the room.
The games are over she thought to herself, You get to go back home.
Dacry buried her head into her scraped knees.
She wore black shorts that went to her knees and a blue hoodie that covered her arms.
Her arms.
Bandages wrapped her arms, with a few puddles of blood at some points.
It was hard to sleep on her sides- it was hard to sleep in general.
That's when the nightmares came.
That's when the careers came.
That's when he came.
That's when she died.
Darcy tightened the brown blanket that closed in the warmth around her.
It felt like a force field from the world.
But even force field's crumble and fall to the ground.
Just like the Victors do.
She quietly walked to the bright red door that sat across from the kitchen.
Her shaking, bandaged hand reached out for the knob.
Her weak, underfed body pushed the door open.
Her stoic face stared at the elevator at the end of the hall before closing the bright red door.
The Capitol sure do love their colors, she thought.
The brown, fleece blanket trailed behind her as her feet made their way to the elevator.
She cocked her head to the side as she found her destination.
Her blue and purple feet dragged her away from the elevator, and to another door.
The stairs.
The heavy door reluctantly opened.
The stone, concrete, grey stairs looked comforting.
Her battered hands gripped the railing as if she was hanging by a thread.
Another door awaited for her.
The last door.
A cool breeze hit Darcy's face like a brick.
Oh, how she missed the smell of fresh air in her nose.
It was only a matter of seconds before she ran back into the Penthouse after hearing his voice.
Tears threatened to fall and her legs got tangled into the blanket.
His face was the last thing she saw
before falling
four flights
of stairs.
