Disclaimer: Not my characters; they belong to Suzanne Collins
He watched the two-story house erupt in bright red, orange, and yellow flames. The screams and pleas for help grew in pitch, reaching a peak, then dying away as the foundations finally collapsed. The bricks fell, the roof caved in, the top story crumbled, and eventually the house was in ruins. Gone. And so were the mayor, his wife, and their daughter who so loved the strawberries he sold her.
"She's dead," they told me. "There's no point in going back; you saw the bombs strike her house. She's gone." Then they patted me on the shoulder, as if their touch would somehow ease the constant blows to my mind and chest. The blows that felt like an ironclad fist to my body but actually came from the absence of something, or someone.
Madge Undersee. How could such a tiny, blonde girl tear her way into me so deeply? She was a tree- a deeply rooted tree, worming her way into my heart and soul. And when she was suddenly uprooted, she left holes that can't be filled, no matter how much soil is shoveled in. In times like these, I'd turn to drink, but as 13 doesn't allow for that kind of waste, I'm resorted to just lying on my bed and staring at the wall.
Madge Undersee, the girl who I once hated. The girl who I called names and threw biting insults at behind her back. The girl who Katniss, for some strange reason, defended. But with her gone, every second I am reminded of why this girl was not the rich, arrogant person I thought she was. She was brave. Determined. With a mind-numbingly hatred for the Capitol. She had every right to be stuck-up and prissy, yet she was so quiet, modest, and honest.
I miss her. The way her bright blue eyes would widen at the sight of me, would crinkle at the edges when she smiled or laughed. The way the tips of her wavy hair would dance in the breeze, and the way my fingers always found themselves tangled in it. The way she walked- her head held high and straight and with a dancer's grace, yet her legs bent awkwardly and the way she had of making herself look smaller and more vulnerable than she really was. Her soft and delicate wisp of a voice, yet it could grow strong and reach octaves that were thought beyond her reach. The way her fingers would curl together, the way her teeth tugged at her bottom lip when she was nervous. I miss her.
Katniss keeps trying to convince me to get over it, that one day I'll forget about her. Yet Katniss doesn't know what happened during her Games. She has no idea that I have long since dropped my habit of simply calling her "Undersee." That she's my friend, or more than a friend. That we spent so many nights laying in the meadow and under the stars, quietly spilling our souls into one another. That I..I love her.
I sit her, mulling over Madge Undersee. The tears start to fill my eyes, but I refuse to let even one drop. She's not gone, she's not gone, she's not gone, I tell myself. She's probably hiding somewhere in the woods, like I told her to; we'll find her when we revisit 12.
"Gale! Gale!" she ran into his arms and grabbed him tight. "They're coming…The Capitol." His eyes widened, but held a spark of understanding. "I have to go." She snatched his shirt even tighter. "Gale! No! Get out of the district, you'll die." "I won't. I'll see you later, in the woods. The woods, meet me in the woods. I love you." With a desperate, quick kiss, he left.
Someone knocks. "What?" I groan as I throw myself back on the bed.
Haymitch Abernathy comes in, a somber look on his face. "Hawthorne, there's another interview that you should watch with-"
I reply dismissively, "It's just another viewing of Mellark to rile Katniss."
"Hawthorne, you're not listening. It's not Mellark this time."
He waits for me to ask but I don't, so he answers my unspoken question.
"It's Madge Undersee."
I race to the room with Beetee's special TV, and shove my way to the front of the small crowd standing before the television. My breath catches in my throat at what I see on the screen.
She's alive.
But my joy quickly turns into panic as I look at her. Madge's skin is paler, more sallow, and is hugging her bones. Her cheekbones are prominent, and her eyes have a hollow look to them. Although the Capitol has done its best to remake Madge, you can see her helplessness under the layers of useless makeup smeared onto her face. She's dressed in a pale blue strapless dress that flares at the calves, and her hair is twisted up into a messy yet eloquent knot. She's glorious, but my hands are shaking with fear and anger.
Madge crosses a familiar stage and sits in a familiar seat across from a familiar face. Caesar Flickerman.
"So, Madge, what do you think of this Rebellion spreading through Panem?"
Her voice, although sounding like her, has a mechanical ring in it. "I think it's ridiculous, and quite frankly, terrible. There's no reason for the Districts to rebel against the Capitol, especially when the Capitol has done no wrong."
I blanch. The Capitol has done no wrong. I would have never dreamed those words coming out of Madge Undersee's mouth, yet she's on-screen and chatting with Flickerman about her supposed hatred for the Rebellion. What have they done to her? I squint at the screen, but there's no way of telling with Madge's face blurring at random intervals.
"Can't you fix the connection?" I snap at Beetee, who's staring at me with mild amusement.
"I'm afraid not, Gale. This is the best reception we can get here in 13."
Snarling, I turn back to the screen.
Madge is in the middle of an answer. "-Peeta was just trying to get out of the arena alive, you can see in the footage, but Katniss's behavior is suspicious. Why did she blow up the force field?"
"Why did she, indeed," muses Flickerman. "Thank you, Madge. I'm sure we'll see you again."
She gives him a bland smile. "And you, Caesar."
As the screen goes blank, I wheel around to find Haymitch standing behind me, his arms crossed and face a guarded mask. In one swift movement, I grab the collar of his shirt and yank him close.
"You listen to me, Abernathy," I growl. "Get her out."
"Sorry, Hawthorne, but I can't," he says. "Don't have the authority to."
"THEN GET THE AUTHORITY!" I shout, shaking him. "You have to get her out! She's in the fucking Capitol, you don't know what they're going to do to her!" My voice cracks at the last part of my yell, and I let go. "I'll talk to Coin, then." I mutter.
A/N: So...review?