Chapter Fifty-One.
Unpredictable Actions.
Awakening with a startle, I am alone. No Finnick Odair invading my personal space but most importantly, no Capitol mutation disguised as a passed loved one trying to grope and rape me, so that's already a plus on this morning's schedule. The second plus of the morning came when I realised I had awoken an entire thirty seconds before Dieter Rollo trotted in for his usual 'wake-up duty' only to be shocked by my zombie-like appearance. Of course he was already suited up in velvet and leather with perfectly on-point hair and make-up but still, despite me being awake, Dieter found some way to use the energy he had preserved for this moment of the day. "Let's get you up and ready," my young escort coaxes me from the comfort of my bed. I cannot help but smile at the man's happiness and genuine wanting to help me. As I showered, Dieter picked out an outfit from the draws inside the bedroom. Rinsing my body of Capitol smelling soap, I hear Dieter call through asking me what is my favourite colour to which I replied, "Blue." then I heard nothing more.
Exiting the shower once I have finished making sure to turn off the electric bathroom gadget before entering the bedroom with a towel wrapped underneath my arms to hide my damp, naked body. I notice Dieter has laid out a selection of outfits to then I wonder how long I was inside the shower for because it looked as if he had spent some time putting these simply yet elegant outfits together. He also had made my bed for me. His warm, dry hand grips the wet skin which was my upper arm and placed me at the end of the bed so I could study the outfits myself close up. From left to right there was a silk button-up shirt with a gentler shade of blue trousers, the next outfit is a blue velvet dress with long sleeves and the final outfit is a pair of skin tight trousers with a plain blue shirt with mid-length sleeves but unlike the others, the t-shirt looks baggy meaning it wouldn't stick to whatever curves I had left.
It doesn't take me very long to decide which one I wanted to wear, "The end one." I tell Dieter who smiles before gathering all the other outfits up and allows me to dress in privacy whilst he searches for a pair of shoes inside the small walk-in wardrobe. Once I have finished drying and clothing myself, Dieter exits the enclosed room and hands me a pair of flat, open top leather shoes and the outfit is complete. Well, except from my hair and blotchy face which Dieter insisted he helped me fix. Reluctantly, I agreed and sat down on the end of the bed allowing Dieter to collect a handful of make-up utensils. Being unused to anyone else doing my make-up but Vibia causes me to flinch as Dieter lines my eyes with a gentle brown pencil, afraid that he'll accidentally poke me in the eye.
"Did you move this much for Vibia?" Dieter asks warming my face with his muffled breath.
Smiling, I shake my head, "Sorry, the whole make-up thing is still new to me." I reply trying to defuse the small amount of awkwardness portrayed in his voice which was muffled by his laughter. Dieter soon finishes the eye make-up before brushing a thin layer of what I suspect is foundation before he focuses his attention on my hair which he simply brushes through before pinning the fringe back. Then, Dieter reveals my appearance to me and I have to say, I'm rather shocked by the gentle image reflected back to me by the mirror. My sea green eyes have been gently highlighted with brown, my skin brushed with a layer of help to cover the faint scars and my hair has been drawn away to show what little natural beauty I have.
Standing up, without thinking I latch myself around the young escorts. "Thank you, Dieter." I whisper into his ear which happens to be beside my lips.
Dieter clearly isn't used to such personal bodily contact and he shrugs me off gently, "Come on, let's get you come breakfast." he orders jokingly swivelling me around before kneeing me towards the bedroom door.
xxx
Freshly cooked buns still steaming hot with sickly smelling food such as bacon, hash browns, golden cooked toast with a wide variety of soups, stews, broths and cereals and to wash it down was tea, coffee and hot chocolate. I sat on the end of the table closest to the entrance/exit door of the carriage way to reveal Michael sitting to the right of me, he had already started eating his breakfast with a range of food on his china plate, Finnick was nowhere to be seen. Dieter sits on the chair the other end of the table, opposite me and we tuck into our breakfast.
I started my breakfast with a steaming bowl of porridge which I decorate the top with sugar, washing it down with cup of nice tea without sweetening. Dieter eats slowly, savouring the food as it slides down his throat to fill his stomach where as I simply swallow without much thought for whatever diet the Capitol doctors tried to drill into me. I am starving and no amount of Capitol orders will stop me from eating what and how much I want. They cannot control me now and they never will again.
Breakfast is silent filled by the noises of knives, forks and spoons scraping and hitting against the china bowls and plates. After fifteen minutes of it simply being the three of us in silence, the electric door slid open from behind me, causing all of our attentions to be refocused on the figure stood in the doorway. It was Finnick Odair but he was almost unrecognisable with blotchy skin and dark circles surrounding his eyes, the golden waves of his hair appeared to have been licked by a cow as it stands on end and even by my standards of 'well-dressed', Mr Odair wasn't.
"You're not seriously thinking about arriving in District 4 looking like that are you?" Dieter gasps placing down his tea cup onto the saucer before putting the china set down onto the clothed table top. Holding back my laughter, I watch Finnick raise an eyebrow in bewilderment as he doesn't understand why Dieter would question him on his appearance and fashion choice, he's the gem of the Capitol. Our escort hums whilst shaking his head, "No, no, no." Dieter stands up, "Let's get you suitably dressed." My escort walks around the long table to shove my ex-mentor out of the carriage door back towards his bedroom leaving me and Michael alone.
From across the small gap, our eyes meet but there's an awkward aura about the connection and it's unnatural. Is this what me being a victor is going to do to us? Make us suddenly opposites, feeling that we couldn't speak but as my brother raises an challenging eyebrow before pulling out a deck of cards, I know that it's the little things that will keep us close.
"You're on." I chuckle stacking away my plate to my left on the empty space as Michael muddles up the cards before dishing me out twelve cards. Four to place face down, four to place face up and four to hold in my hand. Michael copies my set up. "Lowest number?" I ask.
"Eight." my brother replies.
I chuckle placing down the seven of spades before picking up another card to replace the I'd lost which happens to be a four of diamonds. The game involves placing a card higher than your opponent, if you cannot beat your opponent's card you must take the pile. An ace is the highest someone can place. "So how are you feeling?" I ask.
Michael shrugs as he scans the cards in his hand before placing down a nine of hearts on top of my seven of spades and picking up another card. "I'm fine, personally I am more interested in how you feel at the moment." he replies continuing to play the protective elder brother role, which makes me bubble with happiness.
Scoffing, I place down a jack of hearts and pick up an ace, "I'm fine," I reply gentle but Michael raises an eyebrow at me as if to say, really? I nod, "I will be fine, eventually," I assure him but then I realise that I'm not alone and so I correct myself, again. "We'll be fine." I tell him.
Michael chuckles, placing down a king of diamonds, "When we're back in District 4 we need to book you scheduled doctors appointments." he tells me, I nod because it most defiantly is true however I find it far to hard too believe the Capitol doctors haven't already been in contact with hospital back home. Once I've put my ace down, Michael is forced to collect the pile of cards from the table top.
"You looking forward to moving into Victor's Village?" Michael asks.
Smiling, I cannot help but nod because I suppose that is something nice look forward too. Large house with a safe-ish neighbourhood to raise a child in. "I just wish Maria was here, she could have moved in." I say sadly.
"I know, sweetie." Michael says leaning over to touch my arm but I've already began to cry. "It's okay." he tells me.
"No it's not!" I suddenly explode, "Fuck Iris Castillo!" I scream at the top of my lungs slamming my fists onto the strong table top sending my cards flying into the air like confetti. "I'm going to fucking kill her!" I scream suddenly standing up ready to throw a plates, flowers and chairs around the carriage but Michael seizes my left arm tightly and catches my right when it balls up in a fist shattering a plate beneath the momentum. I know Michael is aware of the trauma that grips my body but truthfully I am unaware of where this sudden burst of anger has come from.
"I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL HER!" I bellow trying to wrench myself from my brothers grip who can see my body is about to have another fit of rage and throws me from my stood position to the floor where he sits on the top of my abdomen dropping most of his weight onto my body, pinning my arms to my sides using his knees. Panic struck Michael's eyes as he begin to wonder if anyone can hear us and his logical explanation to avoid creating a sense was to smother my face in a red silk cushion as another belt of screams came from my body but this time it wasn't about Iris, it was about the others. Cassandra, Alden, Waylon and Cato, their names dripped off my tongue like acid.
Then, suddenly I couldn't breath, it was almost like my entire body had given in and stopped me from breathing, I began to wiggle and fidget screaming not from anger but panic because as Michael refused to get off me, I felt increasingly more how Waylon must have felt when I killed him in the Games. Slowly being suffocated without being able to stop it. In the blackness of the cushion I could feel myself wondering further away from my body but soon the light invaded before it was too late. Michael removed the cover allowing fresh and cool air to rush back to me. The oxygen began to recirculate around my body, most importantly to my brain.
"Michael, let me up." I say, firmly but heavily-breathed words. I could feel my face was heated with my panic.
My brother looks down upon me, my arms still pinned to my side. "If I let you up, are you just going to have another fit?" my brother asks me, his words are almost sarcastic as he speaks down to me like I am a child.
Growling, I shake my head, "Please, Michael." I beg. With a exhausted sigh, Michael removed himself from on top of me, gripping onto my left arm to help me to my feet. My knees buckle beneath the weight of my body, despite only weight now seven stone. It's horrifying to think when I entered the Games, I was a comfortable nine stone four. I needed to put the weight back on, and quickly if the life of my unborn child is to be assured.
"What's wrong with you?!" Michael asks me sharply, "Are you trying to get yourself hurt, or killed!?"
I shake my head again, "You saw the way I killed Waylon. I strangled him and being sat on and my face covered made me feel like him," I explain snatching my wrist back from my brothers grip, "And even thinking about the others: about Cassandra, Waylon, Alden, Cato and ugh, Iris, something becomes loose and everything slips, my emotions sky-rocket for the worst." my voice is firm, idly and grown up.
Michael doesn't smile but his eyes flicker with a strange emotion as he pulls me into a large hug, engulfing me into his muscular chest. "The horrid truth is, there isn't a single victor whose mind isn't messed up. We all suffer with some sort of post-traumatic stress, what you need to accept it that you are no longer the little girl you went into the arena as, you will never be her again." Michael says firmly, it made sense having to grow up so quickly has only added pressure to me but there is a certain annoyance about this statement, is that it obvious I am no longer the girl I went into the arena. The Anastasia Hollern that went is wasn't a murder or slightly sadistic. The Anastasia Hollern that is here now, is a four-time murder and mad.
"Seriously though, Anastasia, don't explode thinking about the others like that again because in six months you will have to see their faces and speak about them." Michael tells me, I nod and suddenly the train begins to slow down. Dieter Rollo bursts into the compartment, his face gleaming with uncontrollable happiness but he is stopped by the mess of the table.
"What happened here?" He asks, shocked. I raise my eyebrow as Michael looks down upon me and Dieter catches on quickly but he waves his hands like he has touched something icky but I can tell it's all out of excitement. "We're almost here! You're almost home!" he screeches with excitement. Lunging myself forwards Dieter, I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him tightly, thankfully my escort returns my hug and we stay in that fixed position for several minutes.
When I pull away, I gently plant a kiss on Dieters cheek, "Thank you, Dieter. For everything." I tell him, I had a lot to thank Dieter Rollo for, for example, lining up sponsors, keeping me in line and teaching me to be presentable in front of the Capitol for the interviews. My eyes do not tear up but Dieter's do.
"You're very welcome Miss Hollern," he puts his hand either side of my face before touching our foreheads, in a comforting gesture. Dieter turns to my brother and they hug in an awkward masculine way, and they thank each other for their help. Mainly keeping me alive. Finnick is nowhere to be seen whilst we are hugging and thanking each other but it's not like I won't be able to thank him in District 4, the likelihood is that I will be his and Annie's new neighbour or live across from them.
As we pull into the station, I see people, mainly camera crews but there is a few people that don't belong to a broadcast team. Michael and myself say our last goodbye's to Dieter, knowing we are going to see him in six months it doesn't seem compulsory to get teary eyed and blubbery. Michael shoves me in front of the electric sliding door of the train making sure I am the first thing the cheering citizens of District 4 see, their new victor. The fifth victor.
As the door slides open, I am astonished by the amount of people at the train station, cheering and calling my name. Some I recognise from school and others from work but the glistening red hair of Annie Cresta catches my eyes first and soon I have pelted through the crowd, pushing and shoving people out of the way to leap into her surprisingly steady arms. Annie is crying with happiness as she cups my face wiping away the tears from my cheeks. Suddenly a hand grips my shoulder and I turn around started, but I am quickly reassured I am at no risk of being harmed because the hand belongs to Leila, who, like most, is crying hysterically. Of course I hug her tightly to me but with her being taller she claims dominance of the embrace which makes me feel victimized but I don't speak out.
Mag's doesn't call my name. She can't but I see her through the crowd like a light in the dark, her fragile body and curly grey hair only bring the feeling of safety. When I reach her, she kisses and touches my face before gripping my hands as tightly as humanly possible for her. "I've missed you." is all I can choke out.
"Finnick!" Annie's high-pitched voice screams as my mentor comes into view for the crowd, waving like he had done a million and one times beforehand. His love jumps into his arms and he tightly embraces her. I smile because Finnick Odair isn't heartless, he isn't just a toy for the Capitol to use for pleasure. He is wholesome and completely devoted to Annie Cresta. His one true love.
Citizens scream my name, gently tug at me clothing and pat me. Their hands grope me unintentionally and a sudden panic rises in my chest but as the previous victors plus Leila guide me through the crowd, at the edge of the crowd stands my mother, her new husband and their daughter, Willow. Happiness floods my mothers eyes as she stares at me but I am not happy to see her. The others – except Michael – pull to a stop but I keep on walking, urging them to continue.
"Anastasia?" my mother speaks slowly.
Proved her worst fear, that you don't need her anymore. That you can fight and survive without her, Alden's strong voice from the arena boomed through my head. Now is the time to crush her, "Who are you?" I ask putting on my theatre acting skills.
"I'm your mother." she tells me, like I had actually forgotten. "We're your family." she gestures to the man and young girl at her side. I nibble on my lip, attempting to ignore the chuckles that begin to break from the surrounding people I have clutched onto like a life source.
"You must be mistaken, Mrs," I say, before gesturing to the people around me: Annie, Mags, Finnick, Leila and Michael. "These people are my family." I tell her before walking off, stoned face and venting but not before I get to watch her face fall and her jaw hit the ground at our feet. As we wonder off too the walkway back to the civilization of District 4, I know there will be plenty of time to speak about the horrors and events inside the arena but right now, all I wanted was the love and affection that a real family can provide.
A/N: Anastasia's back home, surrounded by the people who know and love her. She took Alden's advice and crushed her mother like a bug proving that now she can survive without her. Please review and tell me what you think.
