CHAPTER THREE
GHOSTS OF THE PAST

current day

"You mustn't fret so much," Arella speaks softly, laying a gentle hand on Finch's shoulder as the girl fiddles with her breakfast. "Training is a good thing, it'll help you prepare better,"

Finch looks up at her with those doe like eyes, filled to the brim with the innocence that Arella knows she used to possess herself. She wishes she could go back in time and harness that, return to a time where she hardly knew what was going on outside of District Five. Finch, and Argo alike, are naive to the true horrors — they'll likely lose that naivety very quickly in the arena. It's a shame how fast they'll have to grow up, how they'll have to abandon their childish tendencies because they're being hunted down for sport.

"Just make sure to broaden your horizons, search out things you don't know how to use before going to those you're comfortable with. Perhaps, if you think it's wise, try and make friends with some of the others," Arella instructs, bringing her tea to her lips and taking a few sips.

"How do we trust these people?" Argo questions, laying his chin on his hands and looking at his mentor. Arella knows from experience how hard it is to trust others in there, it had been why she only hung around with her own District partner. "I don't want to get stabbed in my sleep,"

"If you're not comfortable with it and you can't form any sort of relationship with the others, then it would be best to leave them be. At this moment, it is likely the only people you can trust are each other,"

Sometimes, people cannot even trust their own partner. The Career tributes are enough of an example, as soon as the number of tributes is small enough, they'll all turn on each other in a heartbeat. In her case though, Malcolm was the only person she even thought of trusting, outside interference was the last thing they needed.

Arella sees the two of them exchange a glance, almost as if they're trying to decide whether they actually can trust the other. It was a no brainer for Arella in her Games, a twelve year old boy who had fear swimming in his eyes and was just so innocent — she couldn't leave him without feeling immense guilt. To this day, Malcolm still haunts her mind, she couldn't save him.

"The training will be a few days so don't rush through the stations," Arella instructs the duo. "Do you want me to accompany you down?"

Finch nods slightly, that familiar ache hitting Arella's chest again. Argo doesn't offer up much of a reaction as he finishes his up his food. The older girl guides the two to the elevator, stepping in with relief, she's so happy that it's empty at this moment — not just for her but also for Finch and Argo. It's already hard enough to be around those who will want to kill you in a matter of days, being in a confined space is worse. However, their safe haven doesn't last for very long, the elevator stops on the fourth floor.

The doors open up widely and in steps the District Four tributes, Arella flinches at the sight of the boy. His youthful face trembling, his eyes rimmed red from all the crying. Finch looks over at her slyly, trying to figure out what is going on in her mentor's mind in that moment. It's been a few years since Arella was in the Games, Finch herself probably would've only been 12 or 13, she likely doesn't entirely remember it. Arella sees Malcolm in them all, their reactions, their tears. This little boy, the same age that he had been, it's almost as if he's here again and she hates it.

Finch lightly touches Arella's arm to grab her attention, the brush of her fingers enough to do so. Shaking her head, Arella offers up the smallest of smiles to try and relay that she's okay. The doors don't close just yet, the sound of footsteps echoing around the room as somebody else looks to join them. Finnick Odair in all his glory, makes his way into the confined space looking just as confident and unbothered as he normally does.

He gives Arella his dazzling smile, one that she can't return as happily as him but she makes her best effort. She quite likes Finnick, he's definitely one of the more accommodating and kind Victors that she's come across so far. In fact, she's rather fond of him, she'd even consider him a friend.

Thankfully, the elevator doesn't stop again and they go all the way down to the training area. Finnick takes his two tributes away as Arella guides her's over to a corner. The nerves have well and truly set in now, the teenagers looking incredibly antsy.

"I'll see you two in a few hours, okay? We'll have lunch and talk about everything that happens," Arella assures, then allowing them to walk off to join the others.

The girl stands still for a few moments and takes some deep breaths, mind racing as she's forced to think about how close those two kids are to facing the dreaded Arena. Out of the corner of her eye, she can just see the District Four tributes making their way inside too, meaning that the day of training is about to begin. They won't like her hanging around, it can be seen as an unfair advantage even though Finch and Argo will likely relay the events of the day to her anyway.

"Maybe you can actually help them,"

Arella scrunches her eyes closed as the words relay around her ears, the familiar voice sending a shudder down her spine.

"Hopefully this time around your advice is helpful and not life threatening. I mean, that's how I died, isn't it?"

"Go away, go away," Arella mumbles quietly to herself hand running through her hair rather aggressively. "You're not real,"

"Well I can't be, can I? You got me killed,"

He's right, he always is. Arella can practically feel his presence, a haunting figure looming over her as she tries to flee his torment. She never can though, he's always her, always playing tricks on her increasingly fragile mind. Opening her eyes, she comes face to face with him, Malcolm's gaze on her and watching her every move.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" She whispers quietly, turning away and trying to flee. The last thing she needs is for somebody to see her talking with literal air, most people already think the Games stripped away her sanity.

"You're the one who won't let me leave,"

Arella feels a tear slip down the side of her face as she rushes towards the elevator, coming to a halt when she runs into something — well someone. Looking up, Arella freezes in her tracks at the sight of his handsome face. His brunette hair is swept in a way that looks messy yet so purposeful, his curls having grown out since she last saw him.

"Ella," The boy in question breathes her name, disbelief at the fact she's standing in front of him right now. She doesn't need this today, she simply doesn't. Pushing by him without a word, Arella expects him to let her go but his hand gently grasps onto her wrist to stop her in her tracks. "Ella, it's been so long —"

"Perhaps there was a reason for that," Arella replies back quietly, looking back at him with defiance plastered upon her face.

"Ella — have you been crying? What's happened?"

The girl steps backwards when he moves towards her, not wanting to be within even the slightest distance of him. Hurt washes over his face, his striking blue eyes practically staring into her soul.

"I can get one of the Peacekeepers to address the matter if you would like,"

"I don't think they can help me, Henry, and neither can you. Please, j-just leave me be. I don't have the energy to deal with this right now," Arella's voice has a slight touch of pleading, hoping that he'll see that she really must go.

Arella hadn't know Henry that long in retrospect but she knew enough about him, he wouldn't force her to stay if she no longer could. He lets go of her wrist and nods.

"I hope that I see you again before you leave, I've missed you," Henry confesses.

A while ago, that would've sent a warmth through her that she thought was long gone. At one time or another, Arella Sinclair would've followed Henry to the ends of the Earth, flee her life in District Five and adopt the overly extravagant Capitol life that she despised. Now, now she does everything in her power to stay away.

"Bye Henry,"

Arella turns away once again, leaving the Capitol resident to simply watch her go. Again.