VII
As the date of my first Reaping drew ever closer, I began having panic attacks. I didn't know where they came from, I just remember the helplessness of seeing that baby seal, of having to give my brother and our closest friend to the lottery every year. I would think again and again, 'This isn't right. This isn't right! Why does it have to be this way? Why are they so afraid of us?' The treacherous, dangerous weight of my thoughts made me panic even more.
A few weeks after the attacks began, Finnick came home from the Capitol for the Reaping. Mother was at the market and Shad hadn't come home from the docks yet. So, we played a card game. The red on the cards triggered something. Maybe the bloody baby seal. Or the body of a child, twisted and crippled. I could hear the voice of the district escort, whose name I refused to know. I could hear the death in the silence of the square. A name called.
I didn't realize my hands were over my ears again or that I had squeezed my eyes tight shut. I felt a warm hand on my wrist and it startled me. Finnick knelt beside me, his eyes searching mine with concern and fear. He didn't ask me what was wrong or if I was alright, or even if he could get me anything. He simply knew, I think. He put his arms around me and asked me to tell him how to make a seashell necklace.
So, I told him until the fear left my voice.