Family Ties: The 35th Games

Sleep is not an escape. As soon as my head hits the pillow, the nightmares are back.

This time, I'm in the Arena. Or, rather, a arena, since I have no idea what mine will look like yet. The Careers are chasing me, circling around me, like a pack of wild dogs. I run and I run, but it's like I'm running through quicksand-- I move in slow motion, and they catch me in no time. But they like to play with their food, and instead of killing me, I'm tied up. Satin makes me look up at them all by yanking on my ponytail.

"What?" she taunts. "Your bodyguards not here to protect you?"

"They wouldn't be able to do anything," Vella hisses. "She's a liability."

"Small and fragile," Mahogany whispers, fingers dancing over the blade in his hand.

I scream. I call for Nathan, for Georgie. Mark or Addalie. Tears stream down my face, but no one hears me. Just the six Careers, who all smirk and jeer. And when I think all is lost, I see them-- all five of them, with Breah too, running to my rescue. But any relief I feel is extinguished in seconds. The Careers are bigger. They're stronger. They're better trained. I watch in horror as all of my friends are brutally cut down, falling limp to the ground. There's nothing I could do, even if I were capable; my hands are still bound, and Satin is still holding onto my hair.

"Poor little thing," Kelly cajoles me. "I'd better put you out of your misery." She advances on me with her knife, and it all goes dark.

I wake up.

Tears are sticky on my face, and my breathing is jagged. Nathan is awake, and thought I'm not sure if I woke him or not, it doesn't matter-- he's holding me in his arms comfortingly, rubbing my back and trying to help me calm down. It takes a while; between the conversation last night and the nightmare, I have a lot I have to process and push down before I can collect myself.

"Shh, it's okay," Nathan mutters softly. "You're alright. You're safe. It was just a dream."

I let out a whimper. I know he's right, but I also know that soon enough, it won't be just a dream. "I'm sorry," I mumble, voice lost in the embrace, though Nathan hears me anyway.

"You don't have to apologize, Nia. There's a lot going on. I don't blame you for being scared. But nothing can get you yet, and I'll be damned sure that nothing will get you in that arena either." 

It's not comforting. It's just a reminder of what he's hellbent on doing for me, and how desperately I don't want him to. But I know there's no use in panicking and spending the day wailing, so I take a few deep breaths, wiping the tears from my face. 

"We should probably go get something to eat," Nathan finally tells me, letting me go with a final pat on the head. "Kera will probably want extra time with you again before training, and it's not smart to face the day we have in front of us with nothing in your stomach." I nod, but don't move, so he takes that opportunity to use the washroom first. When he's done, he hovers at the door, as though he wants to say something, but just gives me a small smile instead, leaving me alone in the room.

Eventually, I relent. I know he's right. So I get up and go to the bathroom, looking at my face in the mirror. I look like a shadow of myself-- the lack of sleep and redoubled anxiety hasn't been kind to me the past few days. My eyes have dark, dark circles, and my skin is pale. Almost as pallid as Alex, and given how unwell he is, that definitely isn't a good thing. 

My hand automatically goes to my hair, flinching as I remembered how Satin manhandled me in my dream. It's tangled and matted, too, which I just know means extra time Kera and her team will spend torturing me. 

It's an impulsive, split-second decision, but between the dream and my resentment of Kera, I hardly think at all as I pull the drawers open one by one, finally finding a pair of scissors. I'm hardly precise as I do what I feel needs to be done, but I don't care. I'm not doing it to look nice or pretty-- I'm doing it to feel a sense of control. With that resolve in my eyes, I reach up, and chop my hair off.

Not all of it. I leave it long enough that it nearly brushes my shoulders. But it isn't long enough for a ponytail anymore, which means less for potential enemies to grab, and less the styling team can do with it while they're treating me like a doll. I know Kera will be mad. I know I've done a piss poor job too-- it's terribly choppy and uneven. But I don't care. Nothing about the past few days has been my choice. I needed to feel like I still had the ability to choose left in me.

"Good, you're awake," Kera's voice rings out automatically as I enter the kitchen, but then she gasps sharply, and I know she's just looked up from whatever she was doing. Shock and rage color her expression as I look up at her defiantly. From the corner of my eyes, I see Palana with a hand over her mouth, absolutely appalled and aghast at what to her, I'm sure, is a huge sign of disrespect. Nathan however, is suppressing a laugh, and when I see Sean look at me, I think I see something resembling respect flash in his eyes.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Kera demands, barely containing the torrent of anger in her voice. "Do you know how much work it is to keep you looking presentable? Do you know how much time it takes to plan out your looks conceptually? How much time it takes to source your outfits? Don't even bother sitting down, Zania, you don't get to eat today. Iza and I are going to have to spend the whole damn morning fixing the mess you've made."

"Hey, wait," Nathan cuts in, shaking his head. "Let her eat-- she has training today. I doubt she needs the amount of work you put in yesterday, either. It's just training."

"This doesn't concern you," Kera yells, and my eyes widen, my body shrinking a little, as though I'm making myself smaller to try to avoid her ire. Her face is flushed and her hands shaking. I had been pretty happy with my choice, but part of my was regretting it. Kera wasn't the kindest to me as it was, and I felt like my impulsivity had only put a bigger target on my back. 

Sean intervenes hastily, "Nathan is right, she needs to eat. Whatever you need to do can wait. You're a style genius, aren't you? You can improvise."

Kera huffed, though Sean's well-placed compliment goes straight to her head, and seems to level her out. "I won't be able to do my job, victor. All the time I'll have left will be spent evening out that terrible hack job she's done."

"So be it," Sean answers. "Maybe going to training looking dull and ordinary will be punishment enough." He catches my eye, and winks, and I smile at him gratefully. Not only had he redirected her anger away from me, but it seemed as though he'd somehow managed to throw me a bone too, convincing Kera to let me dress comfortably, as though it was some sort of punishment.

And it works. Kera looks back over to me, still clearly angry, but not boiling over like before. "Eat fast, ungrateful girl, and then come meet me in my room so I can even out your hair. Don't you dare complain about being overshone by the others today, either. It will be your own fault." And with that, she turns on her heel and stomps away. 

I sit down next to Nathan and fill my plate, and while I'm tempted to eat as slowly as I possibly can, I decide not to push my luck. When I enter Kera's room, the prep team is already there. They spend the time they have left, re-doing my impromptu haircut, making sure it's even and neat. I lose a few inches, my hair now ending just below my chin, but it looks much better. No makeup or styling today, though-- just another bodysuit thrown my way, and instructions to change and get moving so I wouldn't be late.

When they're finally done with me, I go to follow Nathan out the door and too the elevator, but Olivia stops me with a hand on my wrist. "Zania, wait. Nathan, you can go ahead, I just need to chat with your sister." Nathan gives both of us a worried look, but after a moment he nods, disappearing into the lift, as Olivia leads me back into the apartment, and over to one of the couches.

"Am I in trouble?" I ask her shyly. "For the haircut?" I didn't want to let Olivia down-- I rather liked her. The thought of her having to discipline me for my split second decision didn't feel great.

But Olivia bites back a wicked smile, shaking her head and sitting down beside me. "No, you're not in trouble," she laughs. "I like the new look. I was a tribute too, you know. I remember how much the stylists overreach, and how much of an out of body experience it all feels like. You did what I'm sure a lot of us wish we had the balls to do." I let out a sigh of relief and smile back at her.

"No, honey, I just wanted to know if you wanted to talk," she tells me sweetly. "I... I don't mean to pry, or eavesdrop, but I've heard you the past couple of nights. You've been having nightmares. I just thought you might want to get it off your chest."

I blush scarlet, my gaze dropping back down to the floor in shame. It was embarrassing-- it was bad enough I was waking Nathan up. Apparently I'd been waking everyone up. And it was just me, Nathan wasn't having nightmares. I was the only one who had cracked, and it was negatively affecting everyone. "No, I'm fine," I tell her firmly. I'm not fine, and we both know it, but I don't want to seem weaker than I already am.

"Zania, there's no shame in having these nightmares," she tells me, eyes searching mine. "I still have nightmares about my arena, you know, even four years later. And Sean would never admit as much, but I know he still struggles with his Games too."

I want to accept her comfort, but I can't, so I double down. "It's really okay! I'm fine." I don't even believe me, what with the obvious tremor in my voice, but I stubbornly try to steel my expression to sell it.

Olivia doesn't sound convinced in the slightest as she answers me. "Okay. If you change your mind, and want someone to talk to though, I'm here." I don't look up at her, and she sighs. "You better get off to training. You don't want to be late."

Grateful for the out and desperate to not prolong the conversation, I nod, scurrying to the elevator and spamming the button for the training center until the doors closed and whisked me down. When I arrived, most other tributes were already at their stations, but my friends were waiting for me, tucked away on the outskirts of the facility. 

They all compliment the new haircut, and then Nathan pulls me into a side hug when I reach him. "I hope you didn't get in too much trouble," he says with a wry smile. 

I laugh. "No, it's all good. Olivia just wanted to give me some advice about training today." It was a lie, but I didn't really want to get back into my nightmares-- especially not with the others standing right there.

We split up again, all headed in different directions to cover the most ground possible. Georgie takes me with her to more of the weapons stations, the older girl determined to give me a crash course on as many weapons as possible. Mark and Nathan, who seem to get on well, check out the swords, as they hadn't the day prior. And, not wanting to be left alone, Addalie drags Breah back over to the obstacle course, wanting to see Breah in action, and give the whole thing a shot for herself.

The whole morning, I feel my neck prickle, like someone is watching me. And people are, obviously-- the gamemakers are studying us all. But it feels different than that. It puts me on edge and makes me feel uneasy, breaking my focus, and causing Georgie to ask me if I'm alright a few times.

After a couple of hours, I give up momentarily, taking a minute to try to shake the paranoia off, but that's when I see him. My eyes lock with the boy from Four, standing off on his own near some snares, emerald green eyes tracking my movement. He doesn't look away when he sees me notice him, either, but instead narrows his eyes, frowning. After a second, he looks away.

It's hard to not panic, but I'm overcome with anxiety. I've caught the attention of a Career, and there's only so many ways that can end.