CHAPTER 18
District SevenSomeone rested a hand on her shoulder, which didn't stop her body from moving. Olive's eyes concentrated back on something under her; someone she was trying to reanimate. They were a girl. Her face and part of her body were covered in scars. However, what really shocked her was the resemblance to her sister, Annie.
"Olive, stop it. She's gone. I doubt any amount of reanimation will bring her back with poison still lingering in her body."
"But . . . but," she was breathless. The adrenaline mixed with fear and the sudden exercise had left her exhausted. She got worse, way worse, the moment her hands left the girl's chest. As it was the moment the cannon sounded. "No."
"She's gone now. It's better like this, Liv. She must have been in a lot of pain."
Olive's body shook her awake, making her roll to the floor. Thankfully, she slept on the bottom bunk. Still, the arm where she had landed, therefore, received most of the hit, felt numb, yet filled with pain.
"That's one way to wake up," Gianna muttered with a chuckle, crouching down to help her younger sister to her feet. "Nightmares again?"
"Yeah," Olive said, rubbing his arm to stop the numbness. "You'd think that after six months I'd forget all about it."
Gianna walked with her out of the room towards the stairs that led to the hallway between the kitchen and the living room. "Well, you do have a reason. Victor Tour's today."
"Yey." Her sarcasm, just like her family's worry, was notorious.
They reached the kitchen's entrance, where their father was cooking. He turned around, his smile widening as his eyes landed on his two children. Olive took a seat at the kitchen table, while Gianna walked to their father, taking over the pan's watch to allow him to distract himself.
"How's my little girl doing?" He asked, wrapping his arm around Olive's shoulder to kiss the top of her head.
"I don't know. Annie hasn't woken up yet." Olive raised her eyes to meet her father's. "You know perfectly well that President Snow has sent us letters about it. The only good thing I can have from becoming a victor and I can't use it to go do the process. I wish the Capitol would stay out of other people's business and let me do what I want instead of having to wait for the next victor to take the spotlight."
"Whining again?" Gianna questioned with a laugh.
"I'm not." Olive retorted.
"You so are." Her older sister turned around, carefully placing some pancakes on the empty plates.
A pair of footsteps resounded from the first floor, followed by the creaking of the staircase and Annie's worried voice.
"Theo, be careful!"
"Come on, Annie. I smell pancakes!"
"They won't fly away or something. Just look out or you'll fall!"
Soon, Theo and Annie reached the kitchen. Olive saw her twin panting, while her little brother simply run to his seat with a huge grin on his face. She couldn't help but chuckle. She'd miss those crazy, energetic mornings with her family. It wouldn't be easy to say goodbye to them again. Even if she would only be gone for two weeks, and would for sure come back alive this time.
"Morning, to both of you," their father greeted, letting go of Olive to kiss his other children's heads.
"Good morning, dad," Annie answered, hugging their father before taking the seat beside Olive. "Hey, how are you feeling?"
"Nervous." Olive locked eyes with her twin. "But I gotta do it, so it's better not to think about it. I'll be fine, Annie. Don't worry."
Annie rested a hand on top of hers, not caring that the food was getting cold, or that the rest of their family had her same worried expression. "I worry 'cause I care, Olive. You're my twin. Worrying about you is what I do best."
Olive blinked. "What a lie. I saw you training with Finnick, Annie. You're great with a spear."
"Yeah, but —"
The front door burst open without a prior warning, making everyone in the kitchen jump. As if by instinct, Olive and Gianna took their knives and pointed at the door, ready to throw at the sight of the intruder.
Piscia, District Four's escort, walked in with a huge grin present on her face, camera people, and Olive's prep team. Her upbeat tone, followed by a high-pitched shriek at the sight of the knives pointed at her, made the sisters relax.
"It's just the Capitol people," Gianna muttered with a sigh. "Damn, they're scarier than the other victors. Do they not know what knocking is?"
Piscia went back to her usual self in a matter of seconds, raising her arms in the air as if she wanted to hug them. "There she is! Our victor! What a welcome, dear!"
"Sorry, Piscia. You kind of scared the living hell out of us." Olive got up from her seat to receive the people properly, which her father did, too.
Someone else walked into the house, standing beside Piscia before saying. "You don't have to say sorry. We were careless."
"Good to see you again, Cario—" Olive greeted, though was immediately taken away by her prep team, who kept muttering how much work they had to do. "I haven't even eaten anything yet."
"You'll eat later," the only woman in the group said, trailing behind as the two other men dragged Olive to her shared room with her siblings.
Apparently, all the work the prep team had to do was scrub her entire body clean, make her hair look silky, and complain about their daily struggles in the Capitol. Olive tuned out after the first mention of some party scandal. However, she tuned back in when she heard Finnick's name being mentioned by the shortest man.
"I wonder who will be his next lover," the woman said as she painted Olive's nails a sea green colour.
One of the men quickly changed the subject back to the Capitol's parties, away from anything related to Finnick or the other victors. It bothered Olive. One time that he actually wanted to hear what they had to say, and they moved on to another subject.
By the time the prep team had finished their job, Olive's stomach growled. A white towel wrapped around her body was the only thing keeping her from freezing as she waited for Cario to give her the clothes for the tour.
He finally walked in, apologising for taking so long, as he had been talking to her father. The black bag he was carrying had a zip on one side, which he pulled down to reveal her outfit, a suit.
She blinked, surprised. "Not gonna lie. I expected a dress."
"Not today." Cario shook his head and took the glittery suit out of the bag. "Many alterations have been made since I was asked to make it. I promise it's not as glitter and cheery as it seems at first."
"I trust you."
With the suit on, Olive looked at her reflection in the mirror. The glitter on the sleeves somehow only gleamed when she walked or moved, making it seem like the waves breaking at the beach. She took a step forward, then backwards. Anything that would let her see the dazing sight again.
"You keep outdoing yourself, Cario. This is amazing," Olive said, turning to look at her stylist, who smiled gratefully.
"Better if we go down before Piscia freaks out." He pointed at the room's door. "That, or she and Librae have another fight."
"Do they usually fight?" Olive asked, walking beside him to the living room, where everyone else was waiting for them.
"They didn't. Until you volunteered." He turned his head to lock eyes with Olive. "Librae did also not drink as much before, too. I hope nothing's wrong."
The living room's chatter died as soon as they walked through the doors. Unsurprisingly, there was enough room for everyone to take a seat on one of the many sofas around the room. Although, her family and the mentors that would accompany her to the tour sat on one side, while the Capitol people sat on the couches across from them.
"Well, don't you look handsome?"
"Well, thank you, Finnick. You don't look half bad yourself." Olive sat between Theo and Finnick, who had scooted to let her have enough space to sit. Her friend's faint snicker made her chuckle. "So, what are we sitting around for?"
Librae and Ron got up from their seats, fake smirks plastered on their faces. Her mentor was the first to speak, with such a bitter tone that it almost seemed to be filled with hate. "They need some shots of you in District Four before the tour. So better say goodbye now, 'cause you'll be dragged to the train the moment the cameras stop filming."
Olive took the warning and hugged her family to say goodbye. Theo and Annie clung to her for a couple of seconds, gripping her glittery jacket as they wished her good luck.
"It'll be fine. You'll see. Nothing's gonna happen," she promised, patting both of their heads before letting go. "I'll be back in two weeks. Don't overthink it."
"And we will be waiting," Gianna muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "Again."
Mags, who had remained quiet so far, smiled at her and began a short chatter with her as they followed Piscia to the outside. A couple of shots, forced smiles, and continuous orders later, they were in a car to get to the train station.
"First stop, District Twelve!" Piscia exclaimed excitedly as the doors of the train closed behind her.
"Can I eat already, please? I'm one step away from starving." Olive took off her jacket, wrapping the sleeves around her waist, so she could carry it around easily.
"Come, I'm starving, too," Finnick said, motioning her to follow him, which she did.
For the following few days, everything went as planned. Olive read the cards Piscia gave her for each District. She wanted to add something more personal, but she soon realised how unnecessary that was. She couldn't remember the tributes at all. From Twelve to Eight, she couldn't name a single thing about their tributes.
Words like 'I'm sorry', would never ease the pain of the families. Anything else would make her look heartless. Everyone knew perfectly well the new victor had no memories. Any words that left her mouth were bound to be faked, a lie. If she tried to convey her feelings, or what she thought she should feel, it would only make things worse for no good reason.
It all changed in District Seven, where, on the platform dedicated to the families, just on the male tribute's side, there was no one. That was a first, or so Olive thought. She couldn't remember having ever seen or heard of a tribute with no family. There was always an aunt or cousin somewhere. But her ally had no one.
Her words got stuck in her throat as she stared at the empty platform. Many emotions flooded her mind. None let her concentrate on the task she had to carry out.
"I–" She cut herself short.
The card in her hands was shivering, or, more specifically, the shaky grip her hands had on it made it like that. Her eyes raised to look at the platform of the female tribute's family. Way worse. The image of the poor girl, bloodied and shivering under her as she died, popped into her mind.
After taking a deep breath, Olive let go of the card. She watched it fall, slowly making its way to the floor of her own platform. "I knew both of them," she began. "I knew them, but now I don't even know their names."
The female tribute's mother cried louder than she had before. A hand over her mouth as the tears ran down her cheeks. She was alone. The only person she had was her daughter, but now the last bit of her family was gone. And the reason for that was right in front of her.
"I know I tried to save them. I've been told so, at least." Olive took a step closer to the microphone. "Please, trust me when I say that I wish I could remember. As the sur . . . victor, I believe I must remember those who couldn't make it. I won't lie. The pain you feel will never be my pain. But I wish I could share some of it. Help you carry it somehow."
Her eyes trailed to the empty platform. Her ally's face was displayed on top of it; no one was there to cry over his death. Nobody except his ally, who couldn't even remember him.
"I don't know what else I could say about them. Both were courageous and met ends they didn't deserve. I pray that, wherever they are, they can now live peacefully. I hope he has finally met with his family and is now happy." Then she looked at the girl's mother. "And I know she's now in a better place, where nothing will ever harm her again, caring for the family she's left behind."
Olive took a step backwards, this time acknowledging the entire crowd in District Seven's town square. "Please, let it be noted that District Seven's Sixty-ninth Hunger Games' tributes will forever be remembered. Family, friends, allies, and neighbours. We'll all have them present in our minds, for that's the only way they'll never be truly gone." She breathed in, then out. Repeating the same pattern, she glanced at one of the many cameras doing close-ups on her face. "Please, remember the twenty-three tributes of the Sixty-ninth Hunger Games."
The rest of the day passed by like a blur. Or rather, Olive felt so detached from all sorts of conversations that she could barely feel the time passing by. Minutes felt like hours and hours like days. Even in her calm and spacious room on the train, nothing made her tune back to reality.
Her eyes were lost, staring at the wall for no reason at all. What was she even thinking? She didn't know. Although, she remembered that, at one point, she was overthinking her lack of thoughts. One moment they were silent, like ideas popping into her head without prior notice. But others were like bombs, destroying her entire mind and consuming all her attention.
"Hey, are you OK?" Someone asked. "I swear I knocked, but you weren't answering."
Olive turned to look at the intruder. "I'm fine, Finnick. Just a little shaken up."
"Can I sit next to you?" He asked while pointing to her right.
She nodded, getting more comfortable on the bed to direct her attention to her once mentor. "So, what's got you here?"
"You've missed supper, Olive," Finnick answered. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really." Olive shook her head, glancing at the sheets to evade Finnick's concerned look. "I don't want to do anything, in fact. Eat, sleep, speak. I feel like getting under the sheets and curling up there until the tour ends."
"Well, it can't be until the tour ends," Finnick began, "but it can be until tomorrow. I can stay, too. I'll wake you up if you have nightmares. Talk if you need to. Stay in silence if you want. Just let me help."
Olive glanced at him, staring into his eyes for a couple of seconds before giving in. As strange as it felt, it wasn't the first time both of them had a sort of sleepover. Theodore adored Finnick, and, since he began teaching her little brother and Annie, he had been invited to stay the night countless times.
"Just promise to wake me up before my prep team, and Piscia, get here tomorrow. I don't want to put up with them when I'm half asleep," Olive said and pulled down the covers of her side of the bed.
Finnick lay down on the opposite side, resting his head on his hands, ignoring the fact that the pillow was just a couple of centimetres over his head. Olive chuckled and adjusted her own pillow under her head.
"Comfy?" She asked.
"Very much." He smiled.
"OK, go to sleep properly. You're making me feel bad," she said, pulling his pillow down, so it would touch the top of his head.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied in a cocky tone.
He raised his head, letting Olive pull down the pillow until it touched his shoulder. Then he lowered it again, trapping her hand under his cheek. His eyes closed and faked to sleep, prompting Olive to giggle as she poked his cheek with her trapped hand.
"We both know you can't fall asleep that easily, Finnick. Free my hand."
"Don't want to." Finnick snickered, opening his eyes to glance at Olive, who pouted dramatically. "OK, but only if you say the magical word."
Olive rolled her eyes, adding drama to her previous pout. "Please."
"The magical word was seagull, but I'll accept that, too." He raised his head, allowing her to take her hand away.
"You're such a generous person." She smirked, watching him continue with his cocky act. "Goodnight, Finnick."
"Goodnight, Olive," he answered, waiting for her to close her eyes to follow suit.
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