Author's notes: Having read the books and really enjoyed them, I wanted to fill in some of the gaps between books one and two. My focus is to portray Katniss trying to cope with life after the games, but refusing to confront PTSD. This will follow a Gale romance, although Katniss will become increasingly open to Peeta's advances. I'm also going to deviate a bit from the original story by adding more politics, social issues, and Katniss earning the Mockingjay title with a lot more than some poisoned berries. Example: at the end of the games, she honors all the fallen tributes by name. Reviews are always appreciated, hope you like this enough to leave feedback.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games nor any of its canon content
Prologue:
Katniss: Day 8 of the 74th Tournament
I genuinely didn't know whether a silly funeral service would matter to anyone. Rue was dead, and I knew nothing would make me feel any better. I didn't even know whether I were being broadcasted, as they rarely displayed footage of fallen tributes. No doubt the Capital didn't want the Districts to be reminded of the real enemy. That was why only one victor could survive, as even District partners eventually had to turn on one another. It was all about driving us apart, making us hate each other for the actions of their tributes. After all if we couldn't hold a lasting alliance in the arena, then what hope did twelve districts have at uniting against the Capital?
As I said my final goodbye to Rue and held my district's farewell gesture high above my head, I couldn't help feeling that I had indeed made a difference for this poor girl and her family. When she was left alone to fend for herself without any support from sponsors, I had given her a glimmer of hope.
As I tried to figure out how best to dispose of the spear which had impaled Rue, I was unintentionally presented with a golden opportunity to win even more sponsors. Upon rolling Marvel's lifeless body into a prone position and placing his weapon under his hands, I couldn't help imagining him like an ancient warrior of times past being prepped for his final departure from this world.
Unlike Rue or Peeta, this man wasn't an unfortunate soul brought into the games against his will. He had trained his entire life for this moment, and volunteered for the chance to become a victor. It was so hard not to have any sympathy for this person, and yet I tried as best I could to give him a proper send off. No doubt his entire district now resented me for having killed him, but that didn't matter to me now. I knew that in his district somewhere were grieving parents, siblings, and friends... all who've just suffered a devastating loss not unlike my own.
It was then that I raised my hand again to give him the same honor as I'd given to Rue, although it felt completely void of any emotion this time. Deep down I felt he didn't deserve this honor, and it tarnished my soul to offer a sociopath a similar sendoff as an innocent girl whom may just as well have been my sister. However I did my best to sound sincere, given that I wasn't likely to survive much longer. If I couldn't escape with my life, then the best I could hope for was to try and be remembered forever. I wanted to defy the Capital before all of Panem by showing them that my humanity would forever remain intact... that even under the worst of circumstances, we can continue to endure without sacrificing everything we valued.
After lowering my left hand, I then raised my bow above my head and spoke the names of all the tributes I've killed. "To Marvel... Glimmer... Marina... Although I may hate you for what you've done, I understand weren't brought here by choice. My heart goes out to the families of all our fallen tributes... I'll remember them for as long as I shall live."
As I spoke those words, I knew I had delivered my lines perfectly. Although I had no skill at lying, I unfortunately had a terrible gift for telling half-truths. While I did genuinely regret the pain I had inflicted upon their loved ones, I truly held nothing but contempt and hate for these tributes. I had witnessed Glimmer brutally murder a helpless girl only then to laugh about it moments later. Likewise I wouldn't have hesitated to kill a dozen Careers like Marvel if I could have saved Rue.
If they had known what was really in my heart, Panem likely would have called me a monster for playing upon their emotions in such a manner. If they had known deep down that I was really no different than those I killed, they probably would have hated me the most. Because behind every word and act over these last two weeks was nothing more than the cold and strategic motive of a tortured soul doing whatever it took to survive. And it made me wonder whether I were really much different than Glimmer, save that I knew how to keep my inner darkness concealed. Thinking of it like that, maybe I was that much worse.
With cameras everywhere I was determined to follow Haymitch's greatest advice by making people like me, and that's exactly what I was determined to do.
The Present
I rarely used to dream. Usually when I went to sleep everything used to simply fade out and I'd wake up refreshed the next morning. Weeks or even months could pass where I wouldn't experience even a single dream. Technically we all dream whenever we entered REM sleep, and that we simply don't remember was how I preferred to sleep, never really understanding why anyone liked dreaming. Living in a pleasant fantasy only seemed to make reality all the more bitter. When it's a nightmare... well it's always just unpleasant.
Through the window the night sky remained aglow, giving my room a very somber outline of pale red and shadow. Even on a clear evening, where there was more than enough light pollution to obscure the stars, a dense overcast made the night's sky seem particularly radiant. It wasn't at all like this back home... everything about the Capital was so alien to me.
As my senses came back to me, I regained my calm as reality took me back. I didn't know the time, but figured it to be closer to dawn than dusk. I didn't hear any wild life around. I was warm and comfortable in a bed more majestic than anything I'd ever known before. And although I wasn't in danger, I knew I wouldn't find peace until I was free of this steel and concrete jungle.
The only good thing about a nightmare was that one could escape back into reality. When I came to, I felt only the greatest relief of having survived a horrible ordeal known as the Hunger Games. My competitors were dead, and I was declared a victor. I was fully awake now and knew for certain that this wasn't a dream.
While truly it was terrible of me to be gladdened over the deaths of 22 other unwilling participants, it wasn't like I had much of a choice to begin with. I remembered the thrill I felt as the cannon started firing after the opening blood bath, each blast slightly more exciting than the last. For each fallen tribute meant one less threat... each death brought me ever closer to the end.
Unfortunately now I had been starting to have a hard time trying to distinguish between nightmares and reality, given that some of my real experiences were far worse than anything I'd ever dreamed of. This time it was Clove... even dead, she still haunts me. Never in my life had I known what it was like to be mind-raped until that moment back in the arena. Hell I'd have never thought to use that term, but what she did to me was a violation. It was the act of a sadistic bitch done for the explicit purpose of tormenting me. But the most damning thing of all... I was alive because of it. Those few moments she spent gloating and tormenting me about Rue...
As Thresh entered into my thoughts, I began blinking back tears. Although we only spoke once in the arena, I felt as though he had said more to me in one moment than some people can in a lifetime. The rage in his eyes as he took Clove by the neck and pinned her against the wall, the outrage over the death of his tribute partner, and the mercy he showed to me...
Clenching the bedspread tightly in my fists, I forced myself to hold it together! It didn't matter whether I were in front of a camera or not, I was committed not show pain ever again! Not to the Capital, not anyone!
