Sugarcubes // Finnick Odair - Hunger Games Fanfic

XX.

I open my eyes to starch white. It's not very contrasting to the bright white sky I looked up at in the arena before I blacked out, something which makes my heart race just thinking about. Everything aches. But I'm also sure that everything is better now. My thigh no longer throbs with every movement, and I can breathe normally. My neck doesn't hurt from having been nearly choked to death. So far, everything is fine. I can even feel my locket on my neck, which I instinctively take off.

"Kendria."

Blight's voice brings me back to the real world from my thoughts, but it also reminds me of the last time my name was called – that time, by a different person. A person I will never see again except for in videos and pictures of me killing him. Along with the other 23 kids that were stuffed into the arena with me.

"Kendria."

I turn to him. I must look as broken as I feel because his gaze softens at the sight of my face. "I'm proud of you."

I want to scream at him. Tell him he shouldn't be proud of me. I've just killed 6 people, that shouldn't be something that one can be proud of. It shouldn't be something everybody celebrates. I should be jailed. Jailed for murder. Better yet, I should die. Although that's what my brain is telling me. My wicked heart doesn't feel sorry. And I hate that I don't feel sorry. I made a sacrifice to get back to my family – but it shouldn't have been me who decided who was sacrificed in order for me to make it back.

But I'm too tired. I'm too exhausted to fight with him. Instead, I lean on him, I lean on him and cry. I can't trust anyone anymore. How can one live through this? How can someone live with themselves after this? I can't get the image of their faces out of my brain. I just can't.

"Kendria. You're not done yet."

"What?" I ask hoarsely, pulling myself up, though it hurts to do so.

"You're not safe yet, Ria. You need to get home. That means you need to meet with Caesar one more time and board the train. You need to move to a house in victors' village, and then you'll get six months of peace."

"Wha- I'm not done yet?! Who gets to decide that? Snow? I just killed people for his entertainment. I'll bloody well say when I'm done and when I'm done," I scream, sitting up completely straight and coughing. "I'm done, Blight, I'm done. Please-"

My voice breaks.

"Please don't make me do this. I want to go back home."

"I'm sorry," He tells me, brushing my hair back softly – the hair which was once used as a weapon against me now cleaned and soft, falling past my shoulder in well maintained brown locks. Every trace of the games has been removed form my body. The traces they can see, anyway. But the scars the games have left on me run much deeper than just my body. They're ingrained in my mind.

"Danny. Will Danny?"

He nods, seeming relieved that he can deliver some good news at least. "I've requested that Danny be treated immediately. They listened."

I sigh softly. At least that was fixed. And Johanna will never have to face the threat of the hunger games again. Her name will not be drawn again – the odds of that happening are exceedingly low. But the fact that I can't get over the sheer emptiness I feel is a pressing concern. Because that's all I feel. Six people. I killed six people in the span of ten days.

Suddenly the emptiness is replaced with a burning need to puke. I lean forward and bury my head in my hands as more tears threaten to spill.

"Okay. Look, I know how you're feeling better than anyone here, okay? But you've done so much, let's not let it go in vain? We'll take it one step at a time."