Disclaimer: I'm not Suzanne Collins and I do not own the Hunger Games.
This story is set after Katniss and Peeta return to District 12 after their Winners' Journey. And because I lived in HK, I am reading the translated version of the HG trilogy, so I'm not sure about the proper nouns appeared in the novel (for example, the 'Winners' Journey' is a word which I translate directly from the Chinese word). Sorry for that! I have been finding the correct terms of these nouns by flipping the original books in English, but still I need your help. If you find some wrong terms in this fic, feel free to leave a comment to let me know. Thanks a lot, and enjoy!
Chapter One Katniss
I dreamt of President Snow. At first I didn't know where I was, nor did I know what was going on. I couldn't see anything-except fire. Red hot flames were burning the plains and forests, as if they were starving beasts. It grew into the face of a man whom I hate the most. President Snow and me, only one could survive.
The fire growled-or was it laughing? Was he laughing? 'There you are, the Girl on Fire. Do you think you can escape from me? Look at you, a weak, terrified 16-year-old, trying to fight against me. Do you think you can succeed? What about your beloved District 12? Can it survived, too?' the flames started crawling up my legs, waist, collarbone, and I couldn't help but screamed in pain. 'That's it, Katniss Everdeen. Think about the consequences before you act.' his words sent a chill down my spine. My internal heart was cold, but my skin suffered from heat. My body was shouting for coolness, but my mind was freezing.
Think about the consequences before you act.
What would be left after the rebellion? Yes, that was the question that lingered in my head: what would be left?
I gasped, struggling to breathe. I woke up. I was sweating, panting and coughing, as if I had just come out from the fire. 'It's only a dream,' I comforted myself. But even I doubted my words. Was it really a nightmare? Or was it the worst thing that would happen in my life? The sunlight was streaming down, going through the curtain and resting on me. But it wasn't bright enough to cast away the darkness, nor was it warm enough to make me feel safe.
Then I realized, I would never be safe.
I soaked in my own thoughts until a miserable cry broke out from my mother's room, pulling me back into the reality. I frowned, walking to my mother's room.
Apparently, I was not the only one who had bad dreams.
Prim was lying beside mother, her body curved like a ball. Her eyes were still closed, but her expressions were painful. She covered her ears with her hands.
I went to her and gently shook her shoulders. Slowly, she opened her eyes. When she saw me, the fear in her eyes faded. She gave me a weak smile. 'Hey, Katniss.' she slipped down the bed quietly, not wanting to disturb mom. The two of us went to my bedroom. 'Having bad dreams?' I said, while making some tea for both of us. Prim usually went to sleep with mother whenever she had nightmares. She nodded, said, 'so do you?' I nodded. We sighed. These days, I dreamt of some dreadful things almost every night. Last time it was Gale's sad face, and this time, President Snow, warning me about the consequences. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. 'What about you, Prim? What bad dreams do you have?' once more, her gleaming eyes dimmed. 'I dream, that I am picked again.' she started to sob, and I embraced her tightly. Nothing could hurt my sister. Without saying the word 'tribute', I already knew the meaning of 'picked'.
'Hey, Prim. Look at me. You don't have to worry, right? Last time they had picked you already, but I volunteered to be the female tribute. I really don't remember which two years they had picked the same person, so most probably it won't happen. You don't have to worry.' I smoothed her hair. But then I thought about it. Was it really impossible for the Capitol to pick her again? I could never, ever predict what they would do. Who knew if they had some wicked plans to increase the rate of Prim being picked as the tribute? But I blamed myself. I was getting too nervous and suspicious. To my surprise, I found that I was singing the song, the song which I sang to Rue when she was about to pass away. Thinking about it, my voice trembled and died in my throat. Prim must have felt that, because she looked at me and tried to smile. 'I think you are right, Katniss. I shouldn't be worried.' then she hugged me again, whispered, 'Rue's death was not your fault. Don't blame yourself.' she stood up and stretched her arms. The way her arms stretched like a bird, ready to fly, reminded me of the dead girl of District 11 again. In fact, whenever I saw Prim, I saw Rue also. This scene was so familiar to me: I remembered clearly what happened in the morning of the day of Reaping of the 74th Hunger Games, that Prim had the dream of being picked as the tribute, as same as the one she had just told me; also, the song which I sang to Rue as the final salutation I gave to her, as same as the song which I sang to Prim to comfort her. The memories rushed into my mind, so real, so unberable. I knew I could never get rid of them, especially Rue's death, because she was like a duplicate of my sister. Prim was Rue. Rue was Prim. Everytime I looked at little Prim, I suffered. But everytime I did not cry. This was because I knew, that my family needed me. I had to be the strong one, and who knew what would happen if I had a total meltdown.
Rue. Cato. Fox Face. All the other dead tributes. The Tracker Jackers. The thirst. The tears. The blood.
The hunger.
These were what the Capitol left to us after the Games. Those who had once participated in the competition would never be able to make these horrible memories disappear. We lived with it every day, every minute, every second. We felt pain. We felt weak. We felt hopeless. Most probably, this was what the Capitol wanted us to be.
Yet we allowed the existence of it. We tolerated it every second, yet no one dared to speak up.
My fists clenched when I thought about it. 'Katniss? Are you alright?' Prim asked, her face showed anxiety and concern. I quickly masked my emotions. Although Prim had grown a lot since the world messed up in front of her, I was not sure whether she could handle these things at this stage. I wouldn't tell her, at least not now. 'I'm fine,' I replied calmly. 'Do you think we can have some breakfast? I'm starving.' I shifted the subject, trying desperately to not to think about the Games.
Prim gave me a genuine smile. 'Of course. I'll go and get some goat milk.' 'And I'll go and visit Peeta for some bread. What do you want? Nuts, raisins or yoghurt?' Prim laughed at the last one. 'Yoghurt flavour. Your favourite.' she said. I grinned, patting Prim's shoulders. With that, she was gone.
I changed my clothes and grab some money. Peeta and I would have a lot to talk.
...
Before I reached the bakery, I could already smell it from a distance. Rich scent of yeast, butter and jam poured out of the shop and spread widely in the air, making my stomach grumbling like crazy. I hadn't realize how hungry I was until I reached the store. I opened the front door of Peeta's bakery, and instantly I was surrounded by the warm atmosphere of the shop since there was an oven. Placing on the table, was a selection of mouth-watering pastries and meringues, beside them, dollops of cream were added on top of a big pound cake. But I couldn't see my little round-shape bread with yoghurt spreading on top. Nevertheless, I quickly snatched a mini cranberry muffin with dried pomegrante, which was freshly-baked, to curb my hunger cravings.
'You know that gobbling muffins is not good to your belly, right, Katniss?' a familiar voice rose, stopping me from grabbing a few more muffins. I smiled to myself while turning around.
Peeta's face was cheerful and warm, droplets of sweat rolling down his cheek. He was wearing an apron and a pair of safety gloves. His scent had a subtle hint of cinnamon, cumin and some other condiments which I couldn't call their names. But my focus was on his hands, holding a full plate of the yoghurt bread which I loved the most. My stomach made a loud protest, loud enough for Peeta to hear. He chuckled and handed me one piece of that bread. 'Come on, Katniss. Your face look like a starving tiger which discovered a prey after a serious famine.' When I was about to snatch the piece of bread from him, something struck me suddenly, inside my mind. What did Peeta say?Like a starving tiger which discovered a prey after a serious famine. At first I thought it was just a joke, but there was something...strangely familiar with this statement.
Like a starving tiger which discovered a prey after a serious famine.
Like a starving tiger.
Starving.
My eyes blinked. 'No, Peeta. I am not starved. They starved. In District 12.' I murmured softly. Peeta's smile froze. He knew what I meant by 'they'.
Yes, this was what I saw in District 12 everyday. Those skinny children, they had to deal with hunger, illness and poverty every second. Their face glowed like a million stars whenever they saw food, because food was never enough in District 12. Right now, when Peeta and I were gabbing, there were countless people starving outside the bakery door. Their face really looked like a starving tiger which discovered a prey after a serious famine when they found only a piece of unwanted, stale cake or a small pack of candies on the ground. They had not seen or eaten anything more than that quantity or better than that quality, so even a piece of stale cake excited them so much. There were always poor kids standing outside the bakery, waiting eagerly for the bakers to throw out the charred bread. This was already a nice meal, and if Peeta secretly gave them pastries stuffed with chocolate, they would jump up and down and scream like people winning a lottery game. This was the thing that happaned in District 12 almost everyday. Again, we allowed the existence of it. Watching people starved, some even starved to death. Just like Peeta and I, and many other participants of the Hunger Games, we allowed the Capitol to do this to us without saying a word.
Outside the shop, leaning against the window, were three kids staring at us through the glass. No, they were not staring at us, but the plate of yoghurt bread Peeta was holding. When I laid eyes on them, they quickly strolled away. But one kid with short crimson hair, turned to look at us once more. I could see only the pair of sad eyes before he jogged away with the other two children. Suddenly I remembered him. On the day of Reaping of the 74th Hunger Games, when they announced I was the volunteered female tribute, he was the first one who put his three fingers on his lips, and then raised them to my direction. My heart ached when I thought of him. He, too, was starving, as well as many other people in District 12.
It sounded like the most ridiculous thing in the world, to say that I was starving when there was a full plate of bread just beside me. After seeing those kids standing outside the bakery, their hungry eyes fixed on the yoghurt bread, I had lost my appetite instantly. 'Listen, Peeta, I know it isn't the right time to talk, but I have to ask a few things before I go. Firstly, how's Haymitch?' I thought I had stayed in the shop too long and Prim must start to worry about me.
Peeta shook his head. 'I visited him two days ago. Without alchohol, he literally can't survive, but I gave him some bread and tea before I left.' I nodded, planning a visit to Haymitch's place to...talk. 'And have you read the newspaper from the Capitol? The report says they are satisfied with us.' the question behind my words was 'what do you think the Capitol will do next so as to convince the citizens we are deeply in love?' but of course I didn't say it. Not here, not now. Peeta gave me a meaningful look. 'Yeah, I guess so. Hey, Katniss, what about I come to your place at dusk? We can even invite Haymitch for dinner together.' I got it. We'll talk about this later.
I purchased some cranberry muffins and my yoghurt-flavoured bread, and left the bakery silently. The last thing I saw before heading home, was the three kids, still wandering around, waiting for stale cakes and charred bread.
...
End of Chapter One
So, what do you think about the length of this chapter? Is it too long, too short or just appropriate? Please review and comment. By the way, may I ask what is the proper terms for the Winners' Journey? And the song which Katniss sang to Rue? And the black market in District 12? Thank you ~
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