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"OCTAVIA?" A VOICE CALLS. Octavia is afraid to open her eyes, afraid of whom she might see. Or, afraid of who might see her.
"Octavia, we're here." Octavia slowly flutters her eyes opened to meet Seeder's. The mentor breathes deeply as Octavia awakes. She looked much better than she had when they'd first removed her from the Arena. Octavia lays in a white gown, tubes surrounding her body, a machine monitoring her heart beat. She looks dead. She feels dead, too.
Octavia doesn't speak. She doesn't move. She lays on the bed with a blank stare burning into the ceiling. Octavia thinks she's been like this for hours. She's a corpse with a heartbeat.
The memories of the previous events rush back to Octavia. She remembers the feeling of her brothers blood covering her clothes and her hands. She looks down at her hands to see if it's still there.
"Octavia, we're so glad that you're alive." Seeder says, "We all are." Chaff says. It's weird to hear him so serious.
Octavia nods. She knows what's going to happen once she leaves this room. She'll become beautiful again, be presented to all of Panem on Caesar's post-Game's show. They'll rewatch her Games. She'll see Analea's arm separate from her body as she falls. She'll see Layla's death. She'll rewatch Augustus die. She'll watch herself die. Octavia cries at the memories that resurface at the realization of the past few days.
"Listen to me, okay? You're gonna be okay. You're safe, now." Seeder puts a hand on Octavia's back.
Octavia feels like a child who's holding a grudge, but that's what she is. She is only fifteen years old, carrying the burden of twenty-three deaths. Twenty-four if she counts the death of the girl she was before the Games. No one knows what to say this time. There is no amount of sympathy that can reverse all of the trauma the girl has endured.
A knock on the door startles Octavia, she flinches at the sound. Brandi enters.
"Oh, my dear. I knew you could do it." Brandi says. It's the wrong thing to say, he knows that. But he also knows that Snow is listening, and he has to be on his best behavior. Seeder and Chaff know the same. Seeder's eyebrows raised to signal to Octavia that they are in fact, playing a part.
"Someone must have given you pretty great advice, huh?" Chaff says, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Octavia doesn't say anything. Her eyebrows furrow in stress at the lightheartedness of such a dark situation.
"We have to get you to Lionia. It's time to get you ready." Seeder gives Octavia a hand, Chaff helps her stand. Octavia's body feels broken. There is no sign of physical pain at all. It feels foreign. She hasn't had the feeling of no pain in weeks. A reflection on the wall catches her eye. Octavia stares back at herself, eyes void of emotion. Her face looks aged by a few years, creases along her skin, likely from all of the crying and screaming that came from the Arena. Her brown eyes look like a strangers. She feels sick looking at herself. She killed children in the Arena. Her brother is dead. Her friend is dead. Octavia Cirillo is dead. Whomever this is standing in front of her, is the same person who killed Octavia. The villain wears the same face as the Victor. She is being pulled away by someone. A gentle hand curled around her forearm, she flinches at the touch.
