His face was now expressionless, the red trickling down the side of his crystal eyes. Ingrid bent over him, her eyes welling up with what must've been tears, but felt like liquid anger.

She raised her sword at the girl, who was turned towards the sky. Ingrid lowered the blade and watched it sink deep into her neck.

"Ingrid, please wake up!" Ingrid's face was thick with sweat. She sat up quickly, straining her neck. Her father was over her, shaking her, with a worried look on his face.

"Was I talking again in my sleep?" I asked. My father used to call me jabberjay, because I often murmured strange things when I dreamt.

"Get dressed!" he shouted, unnecessarily loud. He threw some sort of hunting jacket at me, and I grimaced at the dirty smell.

"Could you please tell me what is going on?" I demanded, throwing the jacket over my pajamas.

He didn't answer immediately, just continued to shout for my brother, Percy. It worried me.

And then I heard the explosion.

"We have to get out of here!" he cried, grabbing my and my brother's hand.

We raced out of the house towards the wood, which was thick and good for hiding and hadn't been touched yet by the bombs.

The Capital's bombs.

My brother and father were much faster than I was, so Percy scooped me up and began to carry me deeper into the woods.

I screamed when a bomb went off only a few feet from the edge of the wood, but Percy and Dad kept racing. And racing. And racing.

And racing.

Percy's legs eventually gave out, but by then the bombings were over and we were deep enough into the woods if there was going to be another.

"Where are we going?" I cried. My lips were craving water, but I shouldn't complain.

My father seemed to think about it. Then he gave me the most straight foward answer I'd ever heard.

"District 13."

I surely hadn't heard him right.

"But District 13 is...gone."

"Don't you watch the news, Ingrid?" Percy panted. He was still out of breath.

"Umm..." I looked away. I only watched it when I was forced to. The Capital could rot for all I cared, so why should I want to hear about their new tatoo styles and developments in hair color?

"It's alive, and running. Don't you know we're basically at war?"

"Of course," I shot back, feeling stupid.

"Do you know that the side we're on is District 13's?"

I didn't reply.

The compartment was dark, cold, gray, sad. It was a lifeless room. I frowned.

"Why are we here, Dad?" I asked, staring out the window at the gray sky.

He didn't answer me.

A knock, as loud at a bomb- I shuddered- came at the heavy door. A man, about twice the size of myself, stood there.

"I need to speak to Ingrid Hansard." I turned at the sound of my name.

"Can I ask why?" Dad asked, eyeing the large man. Dad was tough, but he was much shorter than this guy.

"Official Mockingjay business," the man said shortly. "Ingrid, please come here."

I stood and followed him out into the equally as gray and dull hallway. "Yeah?"

"Ingrid, President Coin would like to speak to you." My breath stopped, refusing to get in to my lungs. What could I possibly have done in the hour I'd been here?

"Oh, um, ok."

The new Conference Room had slightly more life in it. The only person inside the room was Finnick Odair. I recognized him from being one of the victors for his district. I'd always thought he was the most handsome of all tributes. He saw me and I was about to wave, when I saw the expression on his face. Several other women came in, as well as a few men.

Even Katniss Everdeen came in.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I had to take a deep breath. Katniss was...my idol.

"Let's get to business," said a tall woman in a stern tone.