Chapter Fifty-Three.
Victor's Village.
7:15 AM.
The early morning sunlight is peaking through the gap in the curtains above my head, piercing through my closed eyelids. My dreams were filled with only mildly disturbing memories, almost like a ten second video replayed over and over again keeping my terror at a reasonable level. Turning onto my stomach, I yank the curtain closed before returning back to lay wrapped in the sheets of my bed savouring the sweet taste of freedom as this morning is the first morning since the reaping I have woken up on my own terms, no terrifying, death marking cannons or exhilarating nerves and no extremely loud wake up call from Dieter – which secretly, I miss.
Ten minutes later, I drag myself out of bed and stumble into my bedroom to take a shower. I must have slept strangely because my neck is tight and stiff whilst my legs seem to only work at half the speed of a regular person. The hot water manages to refuse the deepened knots and with my clothes all gone, I have no choice but to adventure outside of the safety of my bedroom in my undergarments, hidden by my fluffy pink dressing gown.
On approaching the stairs, I walked passed to Michael room and unlocked the door before poking my head in to check he is still alive and hadn't choked on his own vomit but when I scan the bedroom, he isn't there. The window on the far wall is closed meaning he couldn't of gotten out meaning he could only be in the bathroom. Carefully, I enter the bedroom and cross over to the bathroom to open the door allowing the rotting smell of vomit to waft free and Michael is laid sleeping like a small child in the bathtub.
I don't wake him, fearing how bad his morning breath is, so instead I open the bathroom window to let fresh air circulate in the small space and then I went rummaging in Michael's draws searching for any form of clothing that would be comfortable. The expensive fabricated clothing donated to him by the Capitol rested at the bottom of the draws whilst the soft cotton clothing he must have purchased at the markets sit proudly on top. I steal the simplest t-shirt in the draw, a plan, short sleeved top and a pair of baggy, cotton trousers. I leave Michael's room and head downstairs still keeping my dressing gown tightly kept around my body for added heat.
The kitchen was collecting dust and clear of food, no doubt Michael cleared out everything that could go out of date before he left, or maybe that was the huge spread set out for me on reaping day. Trying to get rid of it before Michael went off, knowing I would eat it when I returned but, of course, I didn't. With the lack of food dancing in my mind, I fill the metal kettle with water before turning on the gas hob to boil the water. I remove two cups from the cupboard to my left and put coffee grains in one and a tea-bag in the other. Once the kettle whistles t announce it's finished, I add water and milk to my tea before taking a seat at the wooden table in the center of the kitchen, simply staring into the hot liquid contained inside the cup that is clenched tightly in my scarred hands.
7:45 AM – *Michael's POV*
Oh, holy Mary mother of Christ. What is going on? Is someone splashing a litre of acid inside my mind whilst playing a drum solo? And what the hell am I doing inside my bath, have I been here all night? As I remove myself from the bath, my limbs stretched to the point of pain and my joints and spine cracked with stiffness, the result was fairly satisfying. And standing on my own two feet also proved difficult as my balance resembles that of a three-year-old.
The window of the bathroom was open suggesting someone has been in here since last night. My guess is logical, Anastasia came to check up on my this morning. I hope she's okay, Finnick informed be about the nightmares and I was a little more than pissed off that Finnick took it upon himself to comfort my sister, surely that should be my job. I'm her brother, but we are a family, a tragic family of messed up victors.
Dry vomit decorated the sleeve of my shirt that I currently wore and so I strip it off before opening my clothing draw to discover one of my shirts are missing, no doubt Anastasia has stolen it seeing has her clothing has been boxed away by Peacekeepers and donated to homes because her new home will be filled with Capitol style clothes which she will hate, no doubt. I am forced to put on my second favourite shirt: a button up red, white and black checkered shirt. My trousers remain crinkled but clean so I don't bother changing them, Dieter Rollo would have had a fit but seeing as I won't be seeing him for another six months, I intend to make the most out of my natural sloppy behaviour and head downstairs.
The potent smell of black coffee helps to bring my from my thick fogged state. Anastasia sits at the table, staring down into her hot cup of tea like she is waiting for something to happen, the steam glazes over her face like it's nothing anymore. I remember pinning her down in the train, the fury that clouded her eyes when Iris Castillo came into conversation. Remembering my baby sisters kills in the Games, her first murder she committed and how I feared the District 11 girl was going to end her but Anastasia was more deadly and smart than even I could have anticipated. Despite her being almost completely airbrushed, she is my sister and I remember he before the Games, accidental scaring from fishing or fighting with me but now I remember well where the talon marks embedded the skin on her throat, back, torso, arms, legs... anywhere those bastard birds would get a slash, they did. Iris throwing a knife into her shoulder blade and the endless punches Anastasia endured.
There are no winners from these Games. Only survivors and she certainly is a survivor. Held up strong at the beginning but after the boy from District 12's mercy death, you could see the life begin to leave her eyes, after Alden's death, her eyes grew darker and after Cassandra's death, she was almost completely gone.
And then, Cato Ludwig wore her down to the core. To emotion. To love. After watching Anastasia challenge Crane, I was sure she was a doomed, that it was the end for her and I even arranged the flowers she wanted for her service back home. Yellow rose with red tips. Cato was a clear champion but he was simply brought down by love.
Hamish Fords was the doctor assigned to look after and treat Anastasia once they had gotten her uncontrolled by sedation and due to my family status to the new victor, the new of her pregnancy was shovelled along, mostly hidden by her injury report to me first. During the little over two weeks inside the arena, Anastasia had suffered one broken and three fractured ribs with a broken nose in several places which they have managed to reset in the same way it was before the Games, she also had a broken shoulder blade due to the knife Iris threw along with several frost-bitten toes which needed to be semi-amputated to stop it spreading – I remember the doctor showing me the ultrasound picture, a little over two weeks pregnant, it's not even a baby yet. Truthfully, I'm amazed how the baby managed to survive during the hunger and dehydration. Doctor Fords also was baffled by the survival of the child and even went as far as calling it a miracle.
Fucking miracle, my younger sister is only sixteen-years-old. Not even an adult by law yet and those Capitol idiots are making her keep it for entertainment value. Bets are sparking in the Capitol and district's as they wonder what the gender of her child will be and no doubt she will have to tell them to avoid punishment from President Snow.
However, despite the flaws and haunting memories Anastasia now has to carry as baggage, I cannot say I assume she will be a terrible mother, the little girl manages to keep her scrawny cat alive for this long. Ugh, I am so happy to be finally getting rid of that little runt that scratches up my floors and gets hair all over my sofa. But how is our sibling bond going to be effected by the Games, will she turn away from me and go sour like I had so many times before with her or will she have a better knowledge of how to control her mood swings, keep her memories from surfacing or will she go like Annie? Insane and completely hopeless without my help. Caught so deep in thought, I walking quietly around to the work surface where my cup of coffee is stood, I stare at her from at an angle, her cheeks are hollow but getting fuller and her posture displays the work of Dieter, perfectly straight but she will grow out of that soon.
"Can you stop staring at me?" Anastasia pipes up with a strange tone which I cannot pinpoint a particular emotion but strutting around to sit opposite her, I can see she smiles faintly with a small laugh escaping her nostrils, I know we will be fine because now I have the opportunity to return all the years she has looked after me but I can do one better because now I truly have a reason to stay both sober and sane, for my nephew or niece because there is no way I am going to mess up being an a part of that kids life. I'm going to be the best uncle, ever.
*Anastasia's POV*
At around half eight, I answer the door after three loud knocks echo through the house making Michael flinch in pain. The local doctor named Ronan Galloway had took it upon himself to drop in without giving us any warning. If it was any other doctor, Michael and myself may have kicked up a fuss but Doctor Galloway has stitched us up plenty of times with charging a penny so we are relatively used to his presence around the home. Plus he hates the Capitol almost as much as Michael and me so he fits in rather well and he brings the gift of a freshly baked loaf of bread.
"Good morning," Doctor Galloway smiles cheerfully before thrusting the hot loaf into my arms making me grin and move aside allowing him to exit the cold and enter the house. We walk into the kitchen where Doctor Galloway greets Michael who groans in reply to the doctor's happiness. I watched Galloway visually inspect my brother, his piercing green eyes dotting over every inch of my brothers sharp features before the doctor began to rummage through the leather bag he carried. It was almost as if Michael knew what Galloway was after because he automatically sat up a little straighter and waited patiently for the man to remove his hand, showing off a glistening packet of pills carefully sealed with foil over the top. Michael gleamed happily and went to reach for the medication but Doctor Galloway swiftly pulled away the packet before my brothers quick fingers could latch around it. "Do you remember how many you're allowed?" he questioned Michael like a child who flushed red with embarrassment.
"Two." my brother replied.
Doctor Galloway smiled mischievously whilst handing over the plastic packet containing the painkilling pills. Michael quickly popped two from it's compartments before washing them down with a mouthful of black coffee. Cutting up the fresh loaf of bread, Doctor Galloway makes himself comfortable in the living room, resting his bag on the small glass coffee table between the two plush sofa's. I quickly make two more mugs of tea before hurrying into the living room carefully keeping the cups steady so the boiling hot liquid doesn't shift over the brim and holding a chunk of the loaf in my other hand.
"You said you wanted to go over some things?" I ask.
Galloway nodded before removing several sheets of paper, one I recognised as my medical form which until now was clear but now it lists my past injuries and illnesses and a small clear tablet. The doctor removes a pen from a pencil case and clicks the top. "The hospital would just like to confirm and have some decision made by you." the doctor says glancing down at the white paper attached to the clipboard.
I took a mouthful of bread in a rather disgusting manor but I didn't really care. Doctor Galloway smirks at me but asks his first question despite the giggles he muffles, "When did you convince?" he asks.
For some unknown reason, my mind returns back to it's twelve-year-old state and took in a sharp gasp of cold air forcing the mashed up bread to swiftly move down my throat causing me to choke, "I'm sorry." I apologise containing my chuckles enough to wash down the food with half the mug of boiling hot tea.
Doctor Galloway chuckles lightly, clearly understanding how uncomfortable this must be for me, "I suspect it was before the Games started?" he asks me, jotting down something on the paper then looking up at me.
I nod, "Yes, the night before so that would make it... June tenth." My doctor nods before picking up the tablet from the glass table, he taps on the screen and then waited before it bleeps at him, Doctor Galloway doesn't tell me what happened or what he was doing, he simply jotted down something on the paper before looking back up at me with a smile whilst returning the tablet to his bag.
"Would you like to delivery at home or in the hospital?" Doctor Galloway asks me like it's no big decision. I grit my teeth and tilt my head to the side, home or hospital? It was a big decision to make but on one hand, home would be must more special.
"Home." I tell him.
Doctor Galloway smiles before jotting down the decision onto the form. "That's going to cost." he warns me. I cannot help but feel mildly angered but I suck it up for old times sake.
"I'm sure I can spare the cash." I say as smoothly as possibly. The doctor nods before turning to his sheet, several more questions are asked and I answered. We agree on a schedule, I am to visit the hospital every three months, the first scan is when I am a little over three months old. The second at six months – just before my Victor's Tour starts – and the last right before I am due to deliver. Galloway informs me that my second scan should be able to tell me the gender of the baby, I want to know but in a way I want it to be a surprise. Something unexpected that's beautiful and not terrifying.
Doctor Galloway packs away his items into his bag and gathered to his feet, he said his goodbye to me with a awkward, one armed hug before screaming to say goodbye to my brother who had left the kitchen. I escort him to the door but before he left, I am gripped with curiosity.
"Ronan!... I mean, Doctor Galloway!" I call as I watch him descend down the stone steps from Michael's house onto the gravel pathway; he turns, not particularly alarmed by me calling his name. "What is it?" I ask loudly, Doctor Galloway raised an eyebrow at me, silently begging for me to be more specific, "When am I due?" I questioned unable to keep the excitement from my voice.
Doctor Galloway grins happily, "Around March next year." he replies, then pauses before taking out a already rolled cigarette from his coat pocket. "I'll see you in three months." he chuckles. And then he leaves. From the doorway I cannot help but watch him strut passed the empty neighbour house numbered two and out of the gates leading out of Victors Village and into the rest of District 4. From above his head, the smoke gives him a chimney look but I soon shut the door before sprinting up the stairs screaming my brothers name.
I find him in my bedroom, "What's the matter!?" he asks dropping the cardboard box to the ground with a thud before dashing over to me patting me down as if I am injured, "Are you hurt? Feeling ill? Are you okay?" he stammers. My mouth as fallen slightly open in reaction to his questions, Michael has suddenly become over protective and I am shocked but it's really sweet so I smile at him holding back the nasty sniggers of laughter.
"I'm fine –"
"– Then why all the screaming?" Michael asks abruptly breathing a little easier.
A chuckle escapes my pursed lips, "I'm due in March." I tell him. Michael grinned widely. March holds a special purpose, it's the same month as mine and our fathers birthday. The fourth to be exact whilst mine is the twenty-first. Crumbling into Michael's arms he secures me tightly as we share a loving embrace which lasts until several minutes later when a knock echoes throughout the house, alerting us.
"Who's that?" I question, my voice lower than a whisper as suddenly I am terrified, the hairs stand up on the back of my neck because suddenly I am thrown back into the arena, the unknowing who is waiting for us on the other side of the door scares me. Just like not knowing terrified me in the Games.
Michael's arms tighten around me, "Mayor Osbourne." he replies in a shallow voice before kissing my head, we exited my bedroom leaving the boxes when suddenly the front door swung open uninvited and in stepped Finnick wearing his usual Capitol get up, Louis dressed in his usual clothing, Annie in her beautiful flowing gowns and Mags dressed in soft grey cotton clothing. "Oh, and the moving party." he added softly as he made his way down the stairs to greet the men who trotted their way up the stairs, as they passed me they either patted my shoulder or ruffled up my hair.
Chuckling, I make my way down the stairs to join Annie, Mags and Mayor Osbourne who all greet me in their own special way, Annie simply engulfed me in a hug, squeezing a little too tightly, Mayor Osbourne poshly said hello shaking my hand and Mags patted my left shoulder with a wordless smile.
"What's going on?" I ask, completely oblivious to any logical reason to why they would enter Michael and mines home before the men charging off into my bedroom. The mayor removes a golden key from his pocket before wiggling it in front of my face, the end of the metal object clinked against the ring he wore on his fourth finger. A key? Turning sharply at the sound of grunts, I watch the three men emerge from my bedroom, each holding a box filled with my things. My belongings.
A key and my belongings. "It's moving day." Annie almost squeaks.
My stomach clutches in a tight ball. Moving? I am moving, today, right now. Michael, Finnick and Louis swoop down from upstairs and slides out the front door into the humid air. Mayor Osbourne exits the house happily, swiftly followed by Mags then by me and Annie who clutches my hand tightly.
The boys have stopped in the middle of the gavel way between the houses because I assume they aren't sure where I am moving too, one of the spare houses. Following the mayor like a river, he struts across the gap between the houses, for a second I think we were heading towards Mags' house but that would be stupid, instead we are headed toward the house to the right. Number five, it matches the others, created by the same grey stone, the same painted blue front door with a porch like structure built over it so when it rains, the victor is kept dry. Two white painted, chunky framed windows are placed either side of the door whilst another three were set in the wall of the upper level. My new home. But as my hands unintentionally find my stomach, I cannot help but smile because this won't be just my new house, it'll be our new home.
Annie dragged me to the front of the small crowd of movers, I watch Mayor Osbourne wiggle the key moving through to stand at the front of us, stepping up the four stone steps to the front door, slipping the key into the lock before turning it left to unlock the door before pushing it open allowing the soft smell of polish to flutter from the house like butterflies, I can feel the others eyes turn to me giving me a cold shiver and I have frozen completely in my spot, Mayor Osbourne wears a smile like I imagine Dieter Rollo would but I can tell it's fake, he's worried there are camera's watching me move in, wouldn't surprise me.
"Oi, Anastasia, if you're not going in, can we?" Finnick calls from behind me.
Michael gruff's, "Yeah, these boxes are surprisingly heavy."
Nodding wordlessly, the boys all brush passed me carefully to enter the house in front of me, I watch them disappear into the dimly lit home. Terrified by what is lurking in the darkness, I almost melt to the floor but I am soon solidified by the touch of Annie's soft hands which trail down to grip mine lightly yet comfortingly.
"Come on." she coos very gentle, tugging me towards the house but with my hand in hers, I feel more comfortable. Annie walks me towards the door where I pause again to take in the small features of the house from the house. To my right is the kitchen, widely spread with a wooden dining table as an island, around the perimeter of the kitchen, marble topped work surfaces are set perfectly with a oven in the middle with a gas hob, a fridge beside that and a sink. On the far wall above the various work surfaces are cupboards matching the dinning table, pale brown.
Nestling in closer to Annie, we enter further into the house, the stairs are in front of me with a corridor down the side leading to an unknown room and to my right is the living room, a large fire place is set on the far wall on top of the mantel piece is an electric television generator which only comes on for the Games, there are also framed photographs. Three plush green-blue sofas are faced in a horseshoe shape, situated around the fireplace. A wooden bookshelf lined with beautifully crafted books.
"It's beautiful." I mumble, loud enough to make everyone smile.
Michael nudges me, snatching me attention before gesturing to the stairs, "You haven't even seen the best bit yet." he informs me. Glancing at Annie, she smiles happily before walking with me up the strong staircase. The landing is much larger than before, with plush green carpets I felt rude walking over them with my shoes. "That's the study." Michael tells me, nodding over to the door furthest away to the left, "Bathroom," he calls out as we look at the door to the left near where the stairs finish, then we stop abruptly.
"This is your bedroom." Mayor Osbourne informs me, turning the handle and pushing the door open. My breath is whipped from my lungs as I try to absorb the fancy aura and posh items which fill the room. A beautiful four post bed with chunky silk pillows and duvet sit slightly diagonally from the doorway, a large dressing table sits to the right whilst a large wardrobe sits to the left, no doubt filled with smart clothing giving as a prize from the Capitol. A desk sits next to the door way and another doorway is set beyond that on the wall furthest to my right leading onto a posh ensuite bathroom. Nearing the bed, I notice that laid on the soft fabric was Cato's sword, slotted into its own protective leather case.
But as I smile like an idiot to myself, unable to believe this was all for me, a sixteen year old girl. My mind flickers to the Games, all of this was because of my killings, surviving the hits and stabs whilst others didn't. Garrett Larkin's family is sat at home working to buy the things they want and need, I have just been given a posh house and enough money to solve all of District 12's hunger problems.
"Ready to see the best bit?" Michael mutters after setting down the boxes inside my new bedroom at the foot of my new bed. My eyes flicker to Annie, this wasn't the best part? Surely this cannot be topped right? But as Michael gently takes my arm, removing me from the comfort of Annie, he swiftly takes me from my bedroom, turning left to drag me down the corridor to another room which was hidden. "Close your eyes." he tells me. I am shocked to hear his voice replaced by Alden's, expecting my brother to place a throwing knife pack into my hands. My elder brother takes my hands, the sound of creaking hinges tells me we are about to enter another room, the texture beneath my feet changes to a softer carpet, sunlight pours in breaking through my eyelids.
"Ready?" Michael asks me, I nod making him release my hands allowing them to flop to my sides, his footsteps carefully fade away from me and I prepare myself for whatever is hidden behind my lids, "Open your eyes." he tells me gentle but my body has suddenly gone ridged, terrified by my irrational fear of not knowing.
Pushing my fear away, I open my eyes to suddenly feel as if I had been punched in the chest for the room I had stepped into was... a nursery. The walls were painted blue mixed with green matching the colour of the water making up the sea. A painted white coat with a mobile created out of dangling ships, fish and waves. The coat was bar of sheets but contained a wafer thin mattress and pushed against the far right corner with a large comfortable looking armchair nestled in the upper corner, in the far left corner is a beautiful emerald green chifferobe – no doubt filled with baby clothes – and beside the door to my left is a baby-changing unit. The ceiling was crafted with the view of the sky with a small chandelier in the center.
"What do think?" a female voice from behind me asks, I can tell it's Annie by the slight jiff in her voice. Without turning to face the crowd that block the door to the nursery, I smile with tears gentle lining the edges of my eyes. "It's perfect." I mumble, resting my hands on my stomach, it's almost like I can feel her or him stir inside of me because I am consumed with terror that felt as old as life itself. Michael pulls me into a hug, then another body slowly engulfs me, the heat rises in my face with embarrassment. However it's not the people around me that settle my nerves, only the joy of holding my child in my arms will tame this kind of terror and I will hold him or her tightly, dreading the day that I will have to let go.
THE END.
A/N: That's the end. She survived, she is scarred but Anastasia's with all the unstable victors, her family, surrounding her, they create stability. I really hope you have enjoyed it. The next chapter (Fifty-four) is letters from dead tributes to Anastasia and the chapter after that is my disclaimer and thank you's. I really have enjoyed writing this story so please review with your thoughts on this chapter, the one after and my disclaimer.
Thank you so much! Love, Valerie.
