Splintered

A warm summer wind licked along the bare skin of Hazel's forearms and face as laughter bubbled around her, coating her confused and sensitive nerves. A piercing shriek jolted her, and she sprung to her feet. Her head spun in dizzying circles that encouraged a wave of nausea to flow through her. Her balance was off, and her footing was unstable. She swayed and wobbled severely, reaching out her arms to find balance.

Cool liquid sloshed onto her hand from seemingly nowhere. As she peered down, a wine glass rested in her left palm, sparkling with a vivid blue beverage. The color was wholly artificial yet eye-catching. She frowned at the outlandish concoction. She didn't drink and definitely didn't drink anything that blue.

Her gaze then moved from the wine glass to her hand. The skin was soft and peachy, unmarred. Even more strange was the luxurious jewelry. White gold rings with a variety of colorful gems littered every finger. Even her pinky was wrapped in a delicate ring with a deep cobalt bloom that curled gracefully over the digit. A larger one ensnared her ring finger. In the center was a flawless, twinkling clear diamond encircled with snow-white roses crafted from minuscule gems. Blue and white jewels branched out from the center, molding themselves around her skin. What?

A full-body shiver shook her, making the material of her clothing slide over her skin as it loosely flowed against her legs in waves. Her gaze moved from her hands to the rest of her as she inspected herself. It was like looking at a stranger. She was clad in an indigo dress that sparkled and caressed her skin. Something about it echoed with familiarity. It was so similar to the deep navy rose that was currently wilting at the bottom of her bedroom trash can. Where am I?

Another scream sent a blinding chill through her, and she whirled round, spilling more of the wine, if that was even what it was, onto her crystal white heels. The air filled with a sickly sweet scent.

The murmuring of a crowd filtered into her consciousness. She was in a swarm of luxurious-looking people. They were all eating, drinking, and laughing at some kind of outdoor party. Long red cloth-covered banquet tables of food and drinks were set up with a spiderweb of glittering lights strung up above them, more numerous than the stars in the sky. Avoxes skittered between rows of chairs, pouring more neon-colored drinks and passing around trays of various foods in all kinds of shapes and colors. Foreign yet mouthwatering smells assaulted her nostrils.

"Easy." A deep voice was at her ear, warm breath flowing over the skin of her neck. She jerked again, sending wine sloshing. A spike of recognition surged through her bloodstream.

Her attention locked onto the source of the voice. Blue eyes. Just a few shades lighter than her dress. Slicked back white-blond hair, not a strand out of place. A charming, brilliant smile stretched over his lips.

"Senator?"

Coriolanus Snow's eyes crinkled as he stepped closer, resting an elegant finger against the teetering glass, stabilizing it. "A bit formal, isn't it?" His eyes glittered in the garden lights as he contemplated her. His sharp features were both relaxed and yet questioning. "I thought I told you to call me Coriolanus."

"When did you tell me that?" Hazel scowled at him. She had never referred to him as anything but Senator or Snow, even in her thoughts.

Snow tilted his head at the azure wine, "Have you eaten anything with that?"

"Where are we? What are you doing here?" She spun around, looking at the unfamiliar, decorated faces, "What am I doing here?"

Snow softly chuckled, "You've definitely had enough."

A roaring cheer burst from the people around her, and Hazel lurched backward again. The spectators raised their hands and pumped their fists, all consumed by the spectacle on the screen. Cool fingers suddenly slid over hers. She nearly dropped the glass as Snow eased it from her grasp. "I knew you were a lightweight, but truly, I underestimated how much of one."

"I don't drink."

"I see why." He smirked. Was he teasing her?

Another deep guttural cry stretched over the night sky; it was so harsh compared to the party-like atmosphere. Hazel's attention snapped back to the screen. A young boy was lying on the ground, unmoving, as blood pooled over his chest. Familiar horror churned in Hazel's gut, and she tore her eyes away, pressing her palm to her forehead.

"The show has just begun; come sit back down. And let's get you something to eat." Snow urged, gesturing to a luxurious, padded seat she had just abruptly vacated. Snow's seat was clearly to her right, but an additional figure sat to her left. He laughed along with the others, sipping heavily of the blue drink. Clothed in a refined maroon suit with obsidian buttons and detailing, he appeared grown-up, elegant, and so much older.

"Rowan?" Hazel swayed on her heels.

Rowan turned his golden-speckled eyes to her, "You all right, Haze?"

Hazel blanched, "Am I all right?"

"Listen to Coriolanus; relax." Rowan frowned at her while he took a long sip, "Have another drink, sis." He raised his glass to her before an unnerving smile stretched across his face. Was he truly enjoying this nightmare of a party?

"Ro..." Hazel stepped back, terror surging within her as the crowd swelled with a wave of excited humms. Hazel couldn't help but look out at them but kept her attention purposefully away from the terror on the screen.

Her eyes were drawn to the building that overlooked the outdoor gathering. Elevated above the colorful crowd, sitting up on a balcony, were two figures watching. Like birds of prey, looming above in their nest, ready to pounce. Dr. Gaul and Augustus Trask. Both were dressed in deep red suits, faces like stone. But their attention was not on the screen; instead, they both seemed to be watching her. The urge to escape overwhelmed her senses, and her muscles tensed in preparation to run.

Additional waves of ahhs and oohs made whatever was in her stomach boil up her esophagus. Hazel took a step back when a hand curled around her arm, "What is wrong, Hazel?" Snow's question was genuine as if it was her behavior that was peculiar. She turned back to him as she pulled her arm out of his grasp. Did he just call me Hazel? Something is completely wrong.

She stared up at him, doing her best to stop swaying. "Everything..."

A gurgling sound pulled her eyes back to the night's entertainment. The prone boy was still alive but dying. His fingers bore the faintest dusting of charcoal and paint. Hazel unwillingly focused on his face. Delicate yet hardened features, close-cropped hair with a slight curl at the edges. Life was seeping rapidly from his caramel irises. He was not just any boy.

Hazel sputtered, "Linden?"

His face stilled into a rigid mask. Hazel ripped her eyes away and raked a trembling hand through her hair. No, no, no. She was a victor; this couldn't be happening. Not again. She had already lost Silus. Her attention then shot to Rowan. He seemed to lean back in his chair, taking in another luxurious sip without any reaction. Tears brimmed at the corners of Hazel's eyelids.

A tap on her shoulder made her jump. A young avox girl was holding out a tissue to her along with a cup of water and a peculiar-looking sandwich. When Hazel looked up to the avox's face, her blood chilled to solid ice. The usually bright cinnamon eyes were dull. Hazel pitched forward, placing her palm against the girl's cheek, "Lily, what are you doing here?"

Lily stared back at her in curiosity and fear as she stepped back, holding the items in front of her like a shield.

"Hazel, you're scaring the staff. Come back and join us," Snow called. The cheering and murmuring had faded. Most of the citizens had turned their attention to her. Many watched with furrowed expressions as she continued to back away. Their colorful outfits did little to mask the horror of their festivities.

"Hazel," Snow's call sent a chill surging through her. His voice grew closer as if she hadn't really moved far away at all. With that, she broke into a full run.

She pushed and pulled herself through the colorful crowd. Some murmured her name, and others said Snow's. Several in the crowd ran their hands over the skin of her arms or the swishing material of her gown as she continued to push through. No one moved or attempted to make a path for her. Hazel struggled against the people harder; at one point, her shoulder collided with a woman who had her back turned.

"Sorry," Hazel mumbled.

As the mystery woman faced her, Hazel's head became even lighter, and her world tilted on its axis. Fern wore a bright, pink summer dress, her hair was curled and rose-colored feathers were woven between the waves. Across from her, Oren looked concerned; he wore a dark suit with a slick black tie. Sage, in a matching outfit, held his hand as all three stared on.

"What?" Hazel croaked.

"You look unwell, dear. I know it's not my home cooking, but maybe get a snack or something. The tarts are really quite good." Fern smiled at her while Sage readily agreed about the quality of the food.

Hazel shook her head, backing away. She covered her eyes with her hands, pressing hard as if the pressure alone could force her consciousness to engage. Wake up, wake up.

"Haze?" Silus's voice echoed from behind her as a hand pressed against her shoulder.

Her trembling palms dropped from her face. "Silus?" She twirled around to see him standing with a confused expression. She gripped his hands in hers as his warm eyes shone with recognition. "You know me?"

He scrunched his brows, "Of course I do. You are acting weird, what's wrong?"

"I'm acting weird?!" Hazel screeched, "You..." He was dressed in a suit, just as he had been the night of the auction in the Pantheon. The only difference was the crimson streams that dripped from under the sleeves. Blood coated both of his palms, beading off his fingers as if he had just washed his hands in viscous red wine. The same blood that now stained hers. She released her hold on him. "Aren't real..." None of this is real. It's not real.

"Wake up, Wake up." Hazel pressed her fingers harder to her temples as she flung herself away from him. She continued to push backward until two solid hands wrapped around her arms. Hazel tensed and jerked hard.

"Relax, it's me." Snow's words washed over her. While they did little actually to calm her, they did stop her urgent movements. She looked over her shoulder; He was staring down at her with an almost believable unease. Despite his words, his presence was less than relaxing. Hazel twisted around to face him, searching for an escape from the hell she had found herself in.

"Stop, please." Snow was watching her with a knowing look as she continued to hunt for a way to remove herself.

"I need to get out of here. It's not real. I need to wake up."

One of his hands slid to her chin, his cool fingers stilling her for a moment, "I can help you. We can help each other." He gently held her face, willing her to focus on him.

"I haven't had that much to drink, Senator." She emphasized the word senator. I don't think I drank anything, actually.

"I'm not your enemy." His voice grew deeper, "But that doesn't mean they don't surround you."

Hazel paused her desperate search as she considered his words.

Snow's face grew earnest. "If you let me, I can protect you. Protect your family. But you need to stop fighting me." His voice grew softer as he watched her frantically shake her head. "I can be your way out of this."

Hazel pushed away any truth that may have lurked within his words. No, this is just another game. "You? My way out?" She pointed at his chest with a bloody finger, "You are the reason I am here in the first place." She pulled away from him, and he let her go without protest.

"You can't run forever." His voice was calm, haunting as it faded behind her.

Just as she made it out of the crowd into the open field, the ground churned beneath her shoes, her ankle twisting as the high heel came loose. She fell forward, and the earth gave way to a churning pond. Instantly, she was plunged into a murky pool of navy water.

It covered her in its strong embrace. She flailed and kicked but only sunk deeper. The material of her dress instantly absorbed the water into its folds like a sponge, growing as heavy as bricks.

A slithering sensation slid past her bare knee. She trembled and stroked her arms as hard as she could to drag herself upward, but her efforts were in vain. The lights continued to grow further away. Above her, a large hand broke the surface of the dark waters, reaching down toward her. Did it belong to Snow? Or someone else?

Just as she was about to reach for it, the glint of an eel's indigo eyes met hers. It converged on her, jaws wide. Its teeth were brilliant white, so much like Gauls's. She let out a waterlogged, gurgling underwater scream as her consciousness came surging back to her.

Hazel sat up from her bed with a harsh inhale, sweat soaking her forehead. Her chest heaved, and her breathing was ragged.

"Marlowe?" A deep voice called from the doorway.

Embarrassment washed over her as she willed her hands to stop shaking, "I'm all right." Hardly.

Leo silently pushed into the room, his gray eyes searching hers for a moment, "More nightmares?"

"Yeah." She threw her legs over the opposite edge of the bed, her back to him.

"They are getting worse," He murmured, his voice drawing closer.

She shrugged him off, "Nothing new. They usually do certain times of the year. Typically around the reaping."

"But that's not for like seven months."

Hazel stood and walked to the windows. Glittering frost coated the surface of her porch. She had slept slightly longer as the morning sun was making its tangerine presence known.

Leo was silent for a second as his eyes dropped to the floor. "Oh, right."

"Speaking of, I need to go to town to get some things," Hazel strode to her closet and pulled out a set of pants, a flannel shirt, and a jacket. She knew exactly why her nightmares were worse today. It was a special day indeed.

She closed her eyes, willing the terror, the haunting images of her dreams, and the sounds of her own gurgling screams out of her system. "It's not every day you turn twelve."