Warning - possible self-harm/anxiety reference
Johanna once thought that if she could be anything in the world, she would want to be a tree. Trees exist to cater to the needs of other living beings, they do it without hesitation, it's their purpose and they commit to it and they never fail. Human beings would cease to exist without the accommodations rendered by trees. Trees wouldn't be effected if humans ceased to exist.
Trees were purity and chaos. Trees were the Games. Each tree was a tribute, minding itself until it was cut down, thrown through the sawmill. After the games, Johanna didn't want to be a tree anymore. She didn't want to be anything.
In District Seven the people disappear for hours at a time into the forest, they would tell her that the woods were peaceful. She never saw them in that light. To her the woods were numbing. Trees were purity and they were chaos and maybe even she was a tree, but her tree didn't amount to everything. Johanna's tree was a sapling that was picked from the ground and placed in a pot, treated as a house plant, pampered and then forgotten about. Her tree never blossomed into something that spewed life even after if ceased to be. If she was a tree it was not one that became the walls of a house or the floors or a book, her tree was nothing when it came down to it, plucked from its forest. Its family. Johanna was nothing without her family either.
In Panem there are unspoken agreements between acquaintances and friends, boundaries that one simply does not cross. Family is one of them. Things go to shit at an early age in the Districts, it's a well known fact, most kids are raised in in-efficient homes, a parent or both absent, or perhaps non-existent in their lifetimes. No one ever asks about family until they know they're gone (long gone), and even then it's a quiet reverence, then the conversation is dropped, and most of the time, the memory is, too.
No one ever actively thinks about something until you start to pay extra attention to it, it strikes that special part in the mind that creates a whirlwind of attention, every detail one can recall is pulled up from the depths of that thoughtless abyss. You never know what you have until you lose it. Johanna had learned that the hard way, most kids in Panem do.
She had always had few memories of her mother, most of them weren't hers to begin with. Her father managed juggling two kids and a job that toiled him from before the sun rose to long after it had set far better than realistically possible. She always wondered how he functioned on the lack of sleep (it was probably alcohol, that's how she did it now). He spent his hours in the trees, as did most adults in Seven, some days he would operate the mill and others he would spend sawing and chopping in other places. She remembered his rough hands holding a gentle grip on his knife as he cut intricate designs into a piece of wood, the same hands holding her when she scraped her knee or jumped into them when he closed the door. He was soft for someone so coarse, gentle and caring. Kids always seemed to have a love-hate relationship with their parents, he always said "You might not like me all the time, but you have to love me," Johanna thought that was ridiculous, how could he tell if her that she had to love him, wasn't that up to her? (She hated it when he was right, she hated when anyone was right).
When she pushed through the door on the seventh floor of the training center with tears in her eyes Blight didn't ask questions. If his red-rimmed eyes and vacant expression were any indicator, he'd had a pretty shitty night as well (after all it only takes one shitty moment to make a night complete shit). Blight had left behind his two kids (his wife had been killed in an "accident" coincidentally right after Blight refused to do Snow a "favor") and older sister who Johanna assumed was taking care of them. She felt a pang of optimism, they had someone no matter what happened (only one could come out, right?) .
She truly admired Blight for having children under the circumstances. When Johanna was little and taking care of her brother, she always told herself she wanted some of her own, two, a girl and a boy. The perfect family, her family. (She would adopt, there were too many kids that didn't have anyone).
She plopped down on the couch next to her district partner, sinking into the plush cushions, he handed her his flask she grunted her thanks and tipped it back, it was warm, but at least it wasn't water. "Fuck Katniss Everdeen," she muttered, if Blight heard her, he didn't acknowledge.
"I don't want them to kill me, I don't want them to have the pleasure of seeing me die, I want to die on my own terms, I don't want my fucking children to watch me die. I'm not scared of death anymore, Johanna, I want to get it over with." He sobbed out the words, hiccups and gasps for breath trailing after them, she pulled him against her, whispering quiet sounds into his ear and running her fingers through his hair. (She used to do this for her brother when he was hurting. She held him like this after their dad died.) She didn't tell him it was okay, it was a ridiculous phrase, nothing is okay if someone is reduced to tears. Nothing was okay about this. So she cried too, their tears mixed, leaving sticky trails, they were shitty people crying about shitty things that happened to people who were the farthest thing from shitty.
"Finnick told me something tonight," she whispered, they pulled apart, she passed him back the flask.
He tried to choke out something then cleared his throat and tried again, "Yeah?"
She pulled him in close "They're gonna try to get berry girl out of the arena," she whispered so quietly into his ear she wasn't sure he heard her, despite the close proximity.
"Yeah, I know," he said, Johanna's head shot up. "Hey, don't look at me, they thought if anyone but Finnick told you you'd snap their neck," he smiled a little bit. She rolled her eyes, considered it for a second and then shrugged. Probably realistic. "I'm going to bed, I'll see you in the morning," he said, planting a kiss on her forehead before walking off to his room. Johanna walked to the refrigerator and examined the contents, nothing good.
The District 7 mentor, Clifford, stumbled out of his room, he was sixty five years old if he was a day and she was amazed that his liver was still functioning (at this point she was amazed at the perseverance of her own). He grunted a greeting (or something, maybe it was just a grunt, hell if she knew) before reaching into the open fridge, forcing Johanna to step aside, and grabbing a bottle before turning away "Don't forget you have training tomorrow," he rasped. She squinted at him, not only was that the only helpful information he had shared, it was the only thing he had said period.
She muttered something along the line of "Unbelievable," and stalked out of the room, considering slamming it but when she remembered Blight was sleeping, she decided against it, turning the knob and pulling it closed so the sound was muted. The hinges creaked, she clenched her jaw. She wondered if she could coax someone into letting her in the training room tonight so she could blow off some steam, she wondered if she could just let herself in. Then she wondered what the point of training even was at this point. She wondered if they still had that open bar in the lobby. She decided to make it her mission of the night to find out.
When she reached the lobby and the elevator doors opened she was surprised to be greeted with the beautiful (and slightly distraught) face of Katniss fucking Everdeen, she lowered her gaze down to the ground, planning on pushing straight out the door when the girls arm jutted out her body forming a blockade between the elevator bay and the hotel. She backed up a little, Katniss stepped forward, one girl swept her eyes over the other girl from head to toe, one mimicked the motion, then she smirked. "Let me guess. You just couldn't stop thinking about me, couldn't get me off your mind, sweetheart?"
"Don't call me that, you sound like Haymitch," she muttered. Johanna scoffed. "Why'd you leave?"
Johanna pointed to the button panel of the elevator, none of them were lit. "Are you taking me back to your place, Everdeen?" Johanna said, she could tell her lack of answering was frustrating the other girl, but she was just getting started.
Katniss punched the button with the "12" printed on it, Johanna arched a brow. "If that's what it takes to get some answers out of you," she responded. Johanna didn't know what answer she was expecting, but it certainly was not that. Johanna's jaw dropped, she shut it quickly and shifted her weight to favor her right leg, leaning against the glass wall of the enclosure as the elevator lifted, skyrocketing smoothly before slowing, the doors slid apart. Katniss started for the door, but Johanna was still, the younger girl grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out and to the door of the stairwell, Johanna pulled her wrist out from the other girl's grip, rubbing her finger's over it. She'd concluded a couple things by now one: Katniss had a very strong grip and, two: they were most definitely not going back to the archer's room.
A/N - hey guys, sorry it took so long again for this update, thank you for all the inspiration and the reviews and stuff it means so much to me that you guys are still hanging in there with me even though i'm awful with updating. i promise this next chapter won't take me as long, if it does feel free to send me some inspiration and motivation via tumblr pine-bundles. thank you so much, i really hope you enjoyed. (also i apologize for the amount of times i used the word "shitty" in this chapter and also any mistakes)