Johanna smashes the metal coil against Kat’s temples, cuts the damn tracker out her arm to leave her for dead, and she’s off. She can hear Brutus and ‘Baria somewhere behind her in the jungle, shouting orders at each other while trying to catch up.
No real reason for them to kill her, obviously. Snow wouldn’t let her live, not after that taunt she shouted at the camera the day before.
She grins to herself, smearing the blood on her hand across her face when she runs, just for how the audience will be disgusted by that.
Thirteen might come and save poor little Katniss or it might not, but it’s sure been a fun grim ride.
***
“Johanna!” Finnick’s voice sounds muffled through the heavy door to the Training Center’s Seven Quarters, but that doesn’t make it any less concerned. “Johanna, let me in! Let’s talk about this again!”
“Fuck off, Odair! Get the fuck off my floor!” she shouts back and angrily, viciously throws the whore costume she just got out of into a corner of the room.
It was as good as any disguise to visit the super-secret meeting in the super-secret basement and discuss how she’s supposed to sacrifice her life for the cute little girl with the cute little gold pin on her chest that’s got Panem in tears.
Johanna grabs onto a window frame hard, harshly breathing in and out.
Even now that they’ve got a Girl on Fire come to save them all, they made a point of telling her how she isn’t ever gonna save her.
***
There’s this asshole going by the name of Pontius who buys her every fucking year.
Johanna’s got a fantasy of biting off his dick, every time he pushes her down. She can almost taste the blood on her tongue, the way it would give.
Something small to keep her warm on lonely nights.
***
She wakes up one morning in the hospital, staring at the bare white ceiling of Thirteen’s caves and knowing, without a doubt, that they’ve flushed the morphling out of her veins for good. She isn’t trembling this time; it’s gone.
(it’ll never be gone but, what’s new)
When she turns her head, Finnick appears in her line of sight, arms propped on the railing of her bed - the one they used to tie her to before - unshaven, looking like he hasn’t slept in weeks.
“They said you were too crazy to visit,” she mutters with a scratchy throat, too spent to clear her voice.
Finnick shrugs. “Took a break.”
Haymitch is leaning against the wall at the far end of the room, throwing her a mock wave when her eyes fall upon him. He looks sickly and sober, and like he hates everything about it.
Johanna closes her eyes again.
She’d like to steal some more morphling; that would be nice.
Clock Keeps Sticking
Johanna smashes the metal coil against Kat’s temples, cuts the damn tracker out her arm to leave her for dead, and she’s off. She can hear Brutus and ‘Baria somewhere behind her in the jungle, shouting orders at each other while trying to catch up.
No real reason for them to kill her, obviously. Snow wouldn’t let her live, not after that taunt she shouted at the camera the day before.
She grins to herself, smearing the blood on her hand across her face when she runs, just for how the audience will be disgusted by that.
Thirteen might come and save poor little Katniss or it might not, but it’s sure been a fun grim ride.
***
“Johanna!” Finnick’s voice sounds muffled through the heavy door to the Training Center’s Seven Quarters, but that doesn’t make it any less concerned. “Johanna, let me in! Let’s talk about this again!”
“Fuck off, Odair! Get the fuck off my floor!” she shouts back and angrily, viciously throws the whore costume she just got out of into a corner of the room.
It was as good as any disguise to visit the super-secret meeting in the super-secret basement and discuss how she’s supposed to sacrifice her life for the cute little girl with the cute little gold pin on her chest that’s got Panem in tears.
Johanna grabs onto a window frame hard, harshly breathing in and out.
Even now that they’ve got a Girl on Fire come to save them all, they made a point of telling her how she isn’t ever gonna save her.
***
There’s this asshole going by the name of Pontius who buys her every fucking year.
Johanna’s got a fantasy of biting off his dick, every time he pushes her down. She can almost taste the blood on her tongue, the way it would give.
Something small to keep her warm on lonely nights.
***
She wakes up one morning in the hospital, staring at the bare white ceiling of Thirteen’s caves and knowing, without a doubt, that they’ve flushed the morphling out of her veins for good. She isn’t trembling this time; it’s gone.
(it’ll never be gone but, what’s new)
When she turns her head, Finnick appears in her line of sight, arms propped on the railing of her bed - the one they used to tie her to before - unshaven, looking like he hasn’t slept in weeks.
“They said you were too crazy to visit,” she mutters with a scratchy throat, too spent to clear her voice.
Finnick shrugs. “Took a break.”
Haymitch is leaning against the wall at the far end of the room, throwing her a mock wave when her eyes fall upon him. He looks sickly and sober, and like he hates everything about it.
Johanna closes her eyes again.
She’d like to steal some more morphling; that would be nice.
Then, she falls back asleep.
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(sorry, never replied to this)
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