A/N- Thank you to everonica, or Eliza, for giving me the OC/narrator in this chapter.
Chapter Fifteen
Ivory's point of view
"Okay, year seventy-four's! We need all of you over here, now!"" It is now three weeks after the seventy fourth annual Games, and all of its twenty-two losing tributes are surrounding me. They're all more or less physically recovered. But emotionally, not so much. I suppose that is where we, as past contestants, come in.
"We are going to match each of you up with one of us, based off of who you had the most similar arena experience with. I'll go in district order, so pay attention!" Not that they're not already. I'm the loudest past tribute here, so I've been doing roll calls since I first volunteered for this job two years ago. "Whoever you're assigned to is going to talk with you for a while, and try to help with your coping process. Go ahead and leave with whoever you're paired with once you're called."
I scan through the crowd of teenagers in front of me. They weren't told what we are doing, and have mixed reactions. Some nod. A few of the older ones just roll their eyes at me. Several seem nervous.
"Alright, District One." That one is my home district. More likely than not, I will recognize these two. "Caverly, you're with Donner. And Winslowe, you're with Maddox. District two. Hadley, you're with Landers. Marshall, you're with me." I look up and nod slightly. "So you'll just stay here until I finish up, okay?" I don't wait for a response before going back to the list.
I'm finished reading a couple of minutes later. "Alright," I start after the last two, both from District Eleven, leave. "So, where do you want to go? Where do you want to start?" I analyze his face for a moment, trying to get a clearer reading on what's going on, emotionally. It's difficult with all of the heavy scarring, so maybe engaging in conversation would help more.
"We can just stay here, if you want. We're the last ones here, so it's okay. Anyway, my name is Ivory, you can call me Ivy, if you'd prefer, and I'm from District One. I was in the seventy-first year. We were paired up because of several key similarities. We were both older volunteers, both highly trained, and we were also both considered runner's up. This is a little different, but we also both had experiences with the Capitol mutations."
I roll up my shirt sleeve to reveal several claw mark-shaped scars ruining up to my shoulder. "The ones in my year weren't as bad as in yours. But it was still the worst part for me." We make eye contact. I have always been awkwardly tall, so we are at each other's eye level. "So I understand entirely if you would want to start with that."
No response. "Or Clove? What happened with her must have been really hard." Still no answer, not even any acknowledgement. "Hey, are you alright? I'll be quiet if you don't want to talk. But are you alright?"
We stare at each other in silence for a minute. He looks away, a hardened, severe, and unbalanced look in his eye. "No... Not alright. I made it worse than anyone will know. It's not okay!"
"Hey, hey, calm down a bit. Listen." I take a deep breath and smile reassuringly. "It's going to be okay. Clove is doing fine. Would you like to go see her? She's doing great."
His eyes squeeze shut hard. "It's not- It isn't Clove that I'm worried about. And this just isn't going to work."
Without another sound, he turns away and leaves. I follow, needing to understand it all.
