Sugarcubes // Finnick Odair - Hunger Games Fanfic

XVII.

All I can think about as I get dressed is my promise. All I can think about is how stupid it was to say that. How stupid and idiotic it was to promise my life to someone that I have just barely met. I pull on something comfortable, after Rosaline informs me that I have to change into my arena suit in prep. The jitters in my stomach are excruciatingly painful – as if they themselves have the ability to kill me. The irony is that they do – if I let them control me.

I turn slowly to face myself in the mirror. It could be the last time I see my face unharmed, innocent. I look so painfully normal that I feel like I'm going to cry. The bags are ever present under my eyes and my hair is pulled back into a pony as always. I could be going into the woods for a day of work if nobody knew better. But I do. I'm not going to seven. I'm going into the arena where I'll kill or be killed. Either way, I come out a different person. Well, different or dead.

But does it make that much of a difference?

Breakfast is painful. Talking is painful. Looking at Austin is painful, and meeting Alexander in the room I'm to get ready in is painful.

I thought I was a big girl.

A responsible girl.

A brave girl.

I'm not.

For the first time, and I mean for real this time, for the first time, I'm scared. Truly terrified. I'm terrified of dying. It isn't noble that I volunteered when all I'm doing now is wishing I were back at home. It isn't brave that I wanted to save my brother when I'm unsure if I'm going to make it back in the first place.

It was stupid.

Just like the red painting I left on my holographic wall that will make the game makers want to kill me more. It spoke the truth of course, the odds aren't ever in our favor, but that doesn't make it less stupid, less dangerous.

It was stupid.

Just like me promising to a person that I barely know that I'll make it back alive. He probably didn't want me to come back alive anyway. Didn't want me to promise him that. It's his tributes I'll be going against. His tributes and 21 others.

21 others.

I wish I had said more to Blight than just looked him in the face and said bye. I wish I'd told Eero how much I still hate her. I wish I'd yanked the stupid looking wig off Rosaline's scalp and burnt it in the same flame that my rational thinking was burnt in last night. I wish I hadn't made that promise to mister perfect Finnick Odair.

"Kendria."

It takes a few tries for Alexander to call me back to Earth. He can sense that I'm lost, and he has 10 minutes to snap me back into the game. I'm wearing heavy jacket, and layers underneath, which make me nervous. I've never been in the cold. I've never had to. My heart is thumping as he turns me around to face him.

"Kendria."

What is he going to say to me? Tell me to die peacefully? Tell me to live? Tell me he's rooting for me?

"Kendria. Listen. You can do this. It's most probably cold weather, but we never know, there could be a side of the arena that's better suited for you. Don't panic. You have 60 seconds before the games. Look around. Observe."

I've heard this before. Blight has told me all this, I want to say. Instead, I stay silent, hoping to not throw up all over him. The entire room is blurry in my eyes. Even his figure shifts from left to right. I wish I'd eaten more breakfast. I shake my head sharply to try and soften the blur. I need to do this. I'm here now. I need to do this.