The End of the Mockingjay

This story picks up at the start of chapter 27 of Mockingjay, immediately after Katniss kills President Coin instead of President Snow. This is an alternative sequence of events that could have occurred, resulting in a very different ending to the story.

A stunned silence fell over the crowd. People stare with mouths gaped, in disbelief and shock at what has just happened. At what I had just done. At what their Mockingjay had just done. Rapidly, I become consumed by the idea that I, the symbol of the rebellion has just murdered its leader in front of a crowd of thousands in the square, and the whole of Panem through the screens. I collapse to my knees, my bow clattering the ground beside me. All the while President Snow watches me, laughing, knowing that with his the final breaths of life he was still able to defeat me, to publicly destroy the Mockingjay.

For what seemed like hours I sat there, unable to move, unable to breath. Eventually, without breaking the never ending silence, a pair of rebel guards lift me by my shoulders. Without any attempt at resisting I let them drag me back into Snow's palace. Behind me I hear a single gunshot, resonating around the square, filling the silent void. I know they have accomplished what I could not, and that now Snow must surely be dead.

However this act is not met with cheers from the crowd, as it would be expected. Instead the crowd still look on in silence, a few cry, others shake their heads in what must surely be deep disappointment, but none dare to make a sound. How I wish for the silence to end, for even the noise of jeers and threats to drown out my own thoughts. But none come. Finally, as I'm dragged inside the palace I finally succumb to the darkness, and collapsed into the guard's hands.

For perhaps the first time in months, maybe even years my dreams are not plagued with nightmares. In fact as far as I could recall I dreamt of nothing, of blackness, and of silence. All I can remember of my dream is the deafening silence of a people that had just witnessed their idol betray them. This single sound, or lack of it, was worse than any nightmare. The silence gave me time to think, time to remember all the people I had killed, all the people I had let down. It was becoming a very, very long list.

It was some time before I woke, and I became immediately aware of surrounding. I was not in a prison or interrogation room as I had anticipated, instead I was back in my old room in the training centre. But unlike when I had last been here, there were no silken sheets lining the bed, no lavish decorations on the walls. Instead it appeared as if the room had not been used for many months, with a thin coating of dust covering every surface, and the bed laying bare.

It was at this point of observing the bed that I became aware of the stickiness of the mattress. My mind was still foggy, however I instantly knew what was causing it. Blood. My blood. And not just the amount coming from a small cut, no, my blood stained the whole bed, even still dripping onto the floor, where it created a small, still wet puddle. It doesn't take my long to find the source. My left leg is crudely bandaged around the calf. As I am unaware of the origin of my injury, I can only assume it was sustained after I passed out at the hands of Coin's guards. I also realise it must have some time ago the injury was sustained, as instead of the sharp pain such a wound should cause, instead I only felt a duller ache. Still painful, but bearable even without morphling.

I lie there in my blood stained bed for what must be hours, trying to figure out my mind. Although the idea that Snow was merely manipulating me to kill Coin for his own final pleasure haunts me, I quickly dismiss the thought. Not only because I happen to believe Snow was telling the truth about Coin, but also because I quickly realise that I could never justify my actions to anyone else, never convince them that Coin was trying to attain power for herself and not secure the freedom of the people of Panem – she was the leader of the rebellion after all. But can I truly stand by my decision? I was only doing what I thought was right for the people. But after seeing the expressions of horror on every single one of the thousands that came to the execution, I can no longer be sure what I did was right.

To save myself from this internal torment, and because the hunger of not eating for what must have now been days has become overwhelming, I decide to get out of bed. At first the pain of putting weight on my injured leg is excruciating. But I remind myself I have survived worst, so grit my teeth, and with a mixture of limping and hopping can slowly move around the room. My Mockingjay clothes are in a pile in one corner, stained with the blood from my injury. I decide to leave them where they lie, preferring nakedness to guilt and confusion that is now associated with those clothes.

I first limp my way over to the door. Locked. Of course it is. I may be imprisoned in a comfy room, but I am a prisoner nonetheless. My next stop is the opening in the wall from which I used to be able to order food. I half-heartedly order a meal of lamb stew, not expecting the machine to work any longer. However thee machine begins to whirr at my commands, filling me with hope. Within seconds food is dispensed; an almost empty bowl of porridge and a slice of stale bread. Whilst not what I ordered, I devour the food, a desperate and unsuccessful attempt to sate my hunger.

Unsatisfied, I leave the machine behind and head towards the bathroom. Whilst the shower no longer functions, water is still available from the sink. Slowly I begin to wash my body, cleansing myself of blood. I also delicately remove the bandages from the leg and, holding back vomit all the while, tenderly clean the wound. I decide a ripped off section of curtain will suffice as a new bandage for now, and return back into the bedroom, feeling marginally better after my small meal and wash.

The next step is to determine what I should do next. It has become clear I am unable to leave this room, the door being locked and the windows being far too high off the ground to even consider jumping. I must also decide how I am going to deal with the rebels when they come for me. They clearly cannot want me dead, or at least not yet, else they would have executed me already. But how I am going to face them pales in comparison to how I am going to be able to face my mother, Haymitch, Peeta…

"Peeta!" I whisper. How could I forget about him? Tears begin to well up once more, as I realise that just as I was beginning to see signs of the old Peeta come back to me, I go and get myself imprisoned. The dread and longing of my time spent in district 13 begins to return to me, and I'm overwhelmed by the idea that after being so very close to having Peeta back, I now may never be able to see him again. The thought is all consuming, and I slump against the foot of my bed, once again unable to move, despair and grief my only company.

It was some time later that a knock on my door woke me from my sorrow. Realising I was still naked, I hastily grabbed a towel from the bathroom, just as the door swung open.

"Haymitch!" I exclaim, and I rush forwards with arms wide, suddenly filled with happiness at seeing a friendly face. But as I near him I realise something is wrong. He is not smiling to see me, or returning my friendly hug. It takes me a moment to read his expression, but then I realise. Disappointment. From the crowds of Panem who have never known me I can understand, maybe even one day be able to overcome. But from Haymitch? He of all people should understand what I did was right, that it can only have been for the benefit of everyone. However suddenly I'm struck by the thought that maybe he still believe I am consumed only by a desire to save myself, that I'm still the scared little girl that wants to run away to woods with Gale, leaving behind everyone I love. It has been many months since I truly trusted Haymitch, not since the Quarter Quell, when he left Peeta behind in the arena for the Capitol, but something inside of me has finally snapped. I drop my arms to my side, and instead of a smile, I return Haymitch's angered stare. Where just moments ago I was filled with despair at the thought of losing Peeta, I am now filled only with anger at Haymitch's betrayal.

"Come" Haymitch says, his voice filled with the same disappointment as his face. Without another word he leaves the room. Still wearing only my towel I follow, though am closely watched by a number of heavily armed rebels, making any attempt of escape impossible.

Finally we arrive at our destination, a grand office near the base of the training centre. Still without speaking Haymitch opens the door, motioning for me to enter. I refuse to look at him as I pass, though can feel his stare, drilling into my skull.

Upon entering I'm confronted by Plutarch, who is sitting behind a grand. The room is bare, and surprisingly no guards are present. Unlike Haymitch, Plutarch appears far more welcoming to me, at least on the outside.

"Katniss!" He exclaims, a broad, seemingly genuine smile spreading across his face. "Please." He motions towards one of the chairs across from him, and still limping from my injury, I gratefully accept the chance to sit. After a moment Haymitch takes the seat beside me, whilst the guards remain outside. I still refuse to look at Haymitch, and instead focus upon Plutarch, wondering why out of everyone in the Capitol I was brought to him.

As if reading my mind, Plutarch says "So Katniss you must be wondering why you are here?" I refuse to acknowledge that I had been, still wary of my situation, but make no attempt to interrupt him. "Well as you can imagine you've cause a lot of trouble over the last few days. The sudden loss of the Mockingjay was a setback to say the least. Not to mention the public outcry and the death of former President Coin."

I cannot help myself. "I only did what I thought was right. Coin was just going to replace Snow, and nothing would have changed. She even came to the victors asking about setting up another Hunger Games!" As I say these words I'm reminded that I in fact voted yes for these games, for Prim. Oh god Prim…she's gone…she's… 'No!' I scream at myself, I must hold it together for now. Prim can be mourned later, for now I must survive.

Plutarch comes to my rescue, ending my eternal struggle and refocusing me by saying "I know."

"What?" I exclaim, suddenly very surprised. How could Plutarch know about the games, only victors were present at the meeting? Maybe someone had told him but…but who?

He continues "I know about the games, I know about why you acted as you did, and I know about Coin's ambitions." I sit there, speechless at this turn of events. I thought I was being punished for my actions, instead it appears as if Plutarch is actually on my side. For a brief moment I'm given a glimmer of hope.

"However what you cannot know is that we had plans in place to deal with Coin. Coin, like you, was simply a face of the rebellion, a pawn as it were. She served her purpose, and was to be removed when time came. This was all planned from the very beginning." I could not believe it. I thought I was alone in my suspicions against Coin, that the rebels would blindly follow her, and that Panem would once again suffer as a result. But here Plutarch is, saying that all along she was never to be given power, never allowed to repeat the mistakes of the past.

I'm almost bursting with joy, about to forgive Haymitch for everything, briefly forgetting all of my troubles when Plutarch sighs and continues "What I had not planned for was you. I underestimated you once again I must admit. I believed that you would be so consumed by the loss of your sister, and so bent on revenge against Snow that you would never even consider Coin a threat."

"But I was wrong. Instead you decided to act against Coin, in the most public way possible. And in the process you not only destroyed her, but yourself as well. For the last few days we've had to work hard to prevent another uprising occurring as a result of your actions, as a result of the betrayal of the Mockingjay"

This news hit me hard. I knew that people would be disappointed with me, angry even. But another uprising? I had never even considered people were so invested in me, in the stupid girl with the berries that was just too in love. It was also beginning to dawn on me how big a blunder I may have made. If plans were in place to deal with Coin, it likely would have been quiet, an accident of sorts. I would have survived and thus the image of the rebellion maintained. By acting as I had, I had not only destroyed the rebel leader, but the symbol of hope for all of Panem.

"And that now leaves me the dilemma of what to do with you now?" Plutarch finishes.

"Why not just kill me?" I ask, my voice surprisingly steady.

"Oh how I wish I could, how I really wish I could". Suddenly I'm reminded of a moment from what feels like a lifetime ago, my meeting with President Snow back in district 12. There too I asked why he shouldn't kill me, and I realise now that the same reasons Snow had to let me live, so too does Plutarch. I may have damaged the image of the Mockingjay, but killing me would destroy it completely, and the anger of the people would become overwhelming. This realisation gives me bargaining power for the first time.

"Then let me go" I begin, my mind racing at how to convince Plutarch of my ideas, only praying my mouth won't fail me. "You can't kill me, but you can't lock me away forever. So let me live, send me back to 12. I'll be out of your way so can't cause any more trouble, but if you ever need the Mockingjay, you'll know where to find me". It seems like a sound plan, and although I can't bear the thought of living alone in district 12 terrifies me, the thought of leaving everyone behind in this world, of leaving Peeta behind in this world is even worse. It is for them I must try and survive.

For the first time since entering the office Haymitch speaks, "It's a good plan sir." Sir!? Since when did Haymitch call anyone sir? And I finally realise why I was brought to Plutarch, and not anyone else.

"So how did you become President?" I snidely ask Plutarch, finally having connected the dots. I knew he would have been high up in command after Coin's death, but being the new president comes as a surprise.

"Moves and counter moves my dear" he replies, smiling wistfully, as if remembering a good dream. "As for your plan, I agree with Haymitch, it is a good idea. You can make a few public appearances, and then live out the remainder of your days in isolation." I breathe a silent sigh of relief. It had worked, I had escaped. And maybe, just maybe I could find a way to bring Peeta with me...

Then as if once again reading my mind, Plutarch continues "However there is still the small matter of the boy, Peeta. I can't afford to make the same mistake as Snow and leave him here in the Capitol for you; that would be far too dangerous. No I think I will have him sent to 12 as well in fact." This was fantastic news! It took all of my willpower to hold back tears of joy. Not only would I be rid of the Capitol, but I would finally, finally be able to be with Peeta once more.

And with that Plutarch had me dismissed, taken back to my room to await departure back to district 12. I was so consumed by joy over how the day had gone that could not hope to fathom the wry smile spread across Plutarch's face as I left, or even begin to understand the hushed conversation of Plutarch and Haymitch that began as I left.

A few hours later I was on the train leaving the Capitol. A few guards were assigned to keep watch over me, but so few that clearly I was no longer considered a threat by Plutarch. As I left the Capitol for what was to be the last time, I couldn't help but think back over everything that city had brought me. All the pain, all the fear, the terror, the torment…the love. I'm repeatedly assured by the guards that Peeta will be waiting for me upon arrival, but can hardly contain my excitement.

Despite this, I cannot help but remember everyone that my journey means leaving behind. My mother, who I was only just beginning to truly reconnect with after so many years. Now not only does she have to deal with Prim's death, but this time I won't be there to pick up the pieces for her. Then there's Gale. Gale, my oldest friend. As I passively stare at the endless fields we pass I cannot help but think of what could have been between me and Gale, if only I hadn't entered the games, if only Prim's name hadn't been called on that fateful day. But now, now I don't know if can ever forgive him, for what he may have done, what he may have been a part of.

Then there's Prim. Sweet, innocent Prim. The thought of her loss almost sends me back into a world of nightmares. How could someone so pure be subject to such evil? I wipe my damp eyes and drive these thoughts away. I cannot afford to give up now, not when I'm so close to home. To home. I had barely even thought about it. The idea that maybe, just maybe I can have a home once more, somewhere I belong.

Filled once more with hope, the sadness of loss temporarily subsiding, I resign myself to sleep for the rest of the journey. It was a long one, and I had not rested since before my meeting with Plutarch.

It was the next morning when we arrived at the remnants of the familiar station in district 12. Exiting the train I am once again filled with hope and excitement at the beginning of my new life. I am so consumed that I almost don't even glace at the rubble that still covers the earth. I don't notice the familiar smell of home, or the sound of mockingjay's singing in the cool morning air. I barely even notice as all the guards' board the train, and it pulls away, leaving me all alone. But I'm not alone, and before I know it I'm running blindly towards the unscathed Victor's Village, towards my best friend in the world, letting my tears run freely.

"Peeta!" I scream, unable to contain myself as I reach my old home. "Peeta!" I run upstairs to the bedroom, and that's where I find him, and my heart stops.

"Peeta" This time I whisper, approaching the bed where he lies. He lies there motionless, barely breathing, clearly barely clinging onto life.

"Katniss" He croaks, his voice weak. I rush to his side, taking his hand. That's when I see it. A rose lies on his chest. At first I think of Snow, and am almost consumed with fear. But then I realise, this is not just any rose. It's a primrose. Plutarch! Of everyone only he would have the audacity, the cruelty needed to pull off a stunt like this. As head gamemaker he knew how to inflict pain upon his victims, and he was certainly a master.

Suddenly the thoughts of the Capitol, of the revolution, even of Plutarch as the new president and the new hunger games seem entirely meaningless now, when compared to Peeta. Even the worries of Peeta's altered memories seem but a distant memory now.

Letting my tears run freely, I kneel beside Peeta, barely able to breathe myself. All the joy of returning home, all the hope of a new, peaceful life now crushed.

In his croaky voice, he begins "Katniss, its Plutarch, he…" But I cut him off, planting a deep, passionate kiss on his lips, tears still streaming down my face.

"I know" I whisper, my voice trembling. I don't know what Plutarch did to him, but it doesn't matter, I can see it in Peeta's eyes, he knows he is dying, and I know there is nothing that I can do to save him. All I am is just a helpless little girl, a pawn for the Capitol's pleasure, and for their torture.

Just as I'm about to lose myself, unable to take any more pain, Peeta whispers "Stay with me" I tremble, my whole body shaking, a fresh wave of tears flooding from my eyes.

"Always" I manage, barely audible. I slide in beside Peeta, burying my face in his chest, as he holds me in his arms. I can hear the sound of Peeta's strong heart beating, of every breath he takes, feel every muscle in his body move.

We lie like that for hours, until eventually I feel his heart slow, his breathing become shallow. I want to scream at the top of lungs, I want to kill Plutarch, and Haymitch, and everyone else in the whole of Panem for letting Peeta die, I want to tell Peeta how much he means to me, and that I can never live without him. But I do nothing. All I can do is lie there, feeling his embrace once last time. Until eventually the sound of his breathing stops, and his strong heart falls still in his chest.

Filled with despair, I bring myself to place one last, final kiss on his now motionless lips, knowing it will be our last, that I will never again hear his voice, see into his deep blue eyes, or feel his strong, comforting arms around me.

It's at this moment that I finally realise. I realise that life without Peeta is not worth living, that without him in the world there is nothing left for me to hold on for.

"I love you" I croak, my voice barely audible. But it's too late, he is gone and now he will never know what he truly meant to me. This was Plutarch's final punishment for me, to not only have to endure this world alone, but to have to live on as Peeta dies.

And so I know what I must do. As I have done ever since Prim's name was called at the reaping 2 long years ago, ever since I pulled out those berries in the first games, I will not play by the Capitol's rules, won't be a piece in their games, and even in death I will stay true to myself. Peeta knew the importance of this. He tried to explain it once, but not until now did I truly know what he meant.

Mustering all of my remaining will power, I lift Peeta from the bed, and carry him outside. It takes many hours, and my arms ache from having to carry him all the way here, but finally we arrive at the lake. I see the old concrete cottage still standing, a reminder of the past, of everything that could have been had I only run away with Gale all that time ago.

I reach the waters of the lake, remembering how for my whole time in the Capitol I wished to be back here, to be able to swim freely once more.

But without any pause for further thought, I continue walking into the lake, still with Peeta in my arms. The cold water reach my knees, then waist and chest, until finally only my head is above the surface. But still I continue into the lakes depths, Peeta in my arms, the water embracing me into darkness.

Eventually my whole body is submerged, and slowly I feel my lungs empty, and my life slowly begin to drain out of me. Finally, after so long I will know peace, I will be free from the dark world of Panem, free from the games.

As darkness clouds my vision, I give one last look down at Peeta, his face still perfect, looking as if he may simply be asleep.

I will stay with you Peeta. Always.

Epilogue

"30 seconds to show time" I hear cried out as a team of people are still fussing over my hair, make-up, making sure very crease of my clothes and every line of my face is a work of 'perfection'. I hate all this preparation before my public appearances.

The sound of cheering coming from the other side of the curtain was beginning to increase, the people knowing their leader was about to appear. Somehow they too knew the importance of this moment for the history of Panem.

"That's enough" I say, pushing the team away, fed up of the attention. I am not here to look 'pretty', I am here to make a speech, to be a leader. Out of the corner of my eye I spot Haymitch, looking as sullen and as drunk as ever.

"Haymitch" I say, nodding in his general direction.

"Plutarch" he responds. Even if there were time before my appearance, we didn't need words to speak. We both knew what this speech meant for the people of Panem, we had prepared for this moment for years, and I knew how he disapproved. But we are old friend snow, and I knew that whatever Haymitch believed, he would do nothing to stop me.

With a short cry of "Go! Go! Go!" from somewhere behind me, the curtain suddenly opened up before me, briefly blinding me as I was thrust into the light of the summer afternoon. The cheers of the crowd became almost deafening, shaking the wooden platform beneath me.

Putting on my most winning smile, and with an over dramatic wave to the gathered crowd of thousands I strode out onto the stage that had been set up in front of the Presidential Palace, making a beeline for the podium in front of me.

After a short pause to allow the cheers to subside I began in a strong voice I had rehearsed over many years that echoed around the square. "People of Panem, I stand before you today to commemorate the 10 year anniversary of the glorious defeat of the Capitol and the hands of the districts, and the end to the tyrannous rule of former President Snow." As if on cue the crowds erupt into another round of cheering, most of them clearly remembering the war as if it were yesterday. Many of these people had either fought in the war, or had lost loved ones that had, making my commemorative speech even more significant.

"We will never forget the loss of our brave soldiers in that war. Whether they be our family, our friends, or the innocent people of the districts who became the martyr's for our cause. We will also never forget the people of district 12, who lost their home, and can only hope that one day the district will be safe to return to once more." I see a few people weeping at these words, clearly moved.

"We will also never forget Ms Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay." Gasps of shock sweep across the crowd, trying to work out why I dare mention the traitor now of all times. "For all her flaws, and all of her confusion, she still helped lead the rebellion to victory over the Capitol, and for that I am forever grateful." Although some people still appear confused, believing her a traitor and no more, I can see many people begin to applaud, clearly convinced by my words. Good. For what's to come they need to be convinced.

"However there are some losses that time cannot heal, and that can never be forgiven." I take a deep breath to brace myself for my next words, knowing that the last 10 years have all been building towards this moment, and that my future career as President relied almost entirely upon them.

"It is because of this that a vote was taken, long ago by the victors of the old Hunger Games. They voted that for all of our suffering, for all of our pain and all of our loss, the games cannot be allowed to end. Thus I propose to you, the good people of Panem, that in memory of all of our loved ones, and to ensure that past atrocities are never to be repeated, we begin the games once more. But unlike the past, I will not take your beloved children away from you, no. Instead the pool will be made up of the Capitol traitors, who for 75 years were prepared to watch children, your children, butcher each other for their entertainment."

It takes a moment for the crowd to register what I had just said, that we should bring back the dreaded Hunger Games. But after a short pause, the crowd once more erupted into cheers. I had done it! The Games were back, and with it my power was secured. I allowed myself a small smile as I revel in my success.

I quickly wrap up the speech, again focusing on the loss of the people, how the new society of Panem is so much grander, and so much greater than before the war. It's all lies of course, but the people soak up every word, not possibly realising what they had just agreed to.

Leaving the stage I am welcomed by the cheers of my prep team. Seeing Haymitch still waiting, I walk over towards him.

"Congratulations, it appears as if you have achieved the impossible" He says, his voice still think with disgust at what I had done.

Ignoring it, I reply "Oh no, this is merely another step in my plan" allowing myself another cheerful smile. At his confusion I sigh and continue, "Moves and counter moves my dear Haymitch, moves and counter moves…"

Turning away from him, I look back out across the crowd through a small gap in the stage curtains. In the distance I can see and oversize statue of a figure with wings, holding a dark black bow. The Mockingjay. It was always a controversial statue, and over the years had become scarred by the disgust of the people, but still the shape of the Mockingjay was clear. But oh if only Miss Everdeen could see me now, that everything she thought she had worked so hard to stop had failed.

Again I smile. Of everything I said in my speech, one thing was most definitely true. The mistakes of the past will not be repeated again. Snow allowed his whole empire to be defeated by a scared little girl with a handful of berries. The fool.

"Goodbye Mockingjay" I say smiling wryly, blowing the statue a kiss, "May we never meet again"