I won't let you drown . rose . blitz

The finale was just around the corner, and Opal didn’t care. She should, with how much was riding on it, but she just couldn’t muster up the energy to give a fuck.

She was exhausted. She’d lost track of time, she didn’t know if it was day or night or really much else other then the fact that her soul hurt. The bandages over her hand were a constant and painful reminder that she meant nothing to the Capitol. It hurt; her pride and heart had been shattered only a few days ago and she was still trying to piece it all back together.

The finger had been covered in too much dirt. Too much time taken between the Sunflower field where Olivia had made her point and her dash to the hospital. Last night she had thrown up, fingers clawing at the toilet bowl and stomach twisting with such vial self-loathing that she had trembled.

Opal had never been one to believe that someone could wield so much power over her. But here she was at the complete and utter mercy of an old Capitolite woman. So much so, that she had cut off her own finger without hesitation, pleading with tears in her eyes for them to stop hurting her son.

The training centre was lonely, her apartment empty and cold. She’d begun aimlessly wandering around the halls, scared by her own reflection. She didn’t like what she saw, haunted, pain-filled eyes staring back at her. When she spotted Jacinta Salazar sitting at a table on the ground floor she paused, mind reeling before summoning up the courage to wander over.

Sitting herself down beside the younger visitor she gave her a gentle smile. “Hi,” she said. Jacinta looked tired, and Opal had heard the whispers of the young woman’s pregnancy.

Children, Opal thought, were the greatest weapon a victor could give the Capitol.

“How are you?”