A/N: This covers all three books. If you have not read all of them, then do not proceed.
It is also a bit graphic with some gory details, which is why it's rated T. I just wanted to be safe.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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Even if there's a bag of rotten fruit, the mold spreading from one to the other, until they're all contaminated, there's still that chance of the one lone fruit that wasn't effected by the rest.
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I've always felt different. The people that I have grown up around have never really succeeded in rubbing their ways off onto me. I have always been my own person and have always seen the Capitol for what it truly is.
The very first Hunger Games that I remember watching was when I was five years old. It was the year that a man lost his mind and went carnivorous on all of the other tributes. It was a horrifying scene for a five year old to see, and yet it was all that my kindergarten friends could talk about. I remember turning my face away as a hunk of flesh was torn from one of the tributes body by the mad man's teeth. I looked to my family for comfort but was shocked to see them all intrigued. Everyone was eating their popcorn and enjoying the 'entertainment' before them. I laid back my head, closing my eyes and playing off that I had fallen asleep, refusing to watch anymore of it.
It disgusted me whenever I watched the annual show with my family and they would either laugh or watch with excitement. There was a time at the age of nine that I claimed I needed to use the restroom, when really I spent fifteen minutes in there releasing the contents of my stomach. Staring into the porcelain bowl, all I could think was, What if I was in that position? What horrified me the most about it, is that as that show was running out in my living room, people were fighting for their lives on the television screen, Capitol citizens were watching like hungry animals, I was in the bathroom vomiting, everything was real. Those people at that exact moment were dying. And my family and the rest of the Capitol were enjoying watching it. Ever since that night, I would watch the show with unseeing eyes, my mind wandering to other subjects, refusing to acknowledge what was happening on the screen in front of me.
...
There was a boy. His name was David. I liked that boy. A lot. He was on my mind a lot ever since first grade when we met. We bumped into each other in the hall one day in sixth grade and he apologized, picking up my fallen belongings and offering to walk me to class. I was initially shocked but quickly composed myself and agreed excitedly. I finally managed to work up some courage as we walked and asked him shyly if he wanted to hang out after school. He accepted and after that we began to hang out more during and after school. Until one day that changed it all.
It was a day that the Hunger Games were being featured. It was an especially bad year. Like always though, I shut off my mind and refused to participate in the viewing of it, unlike all of the excited people around me. It was actually in school that it was shown. My teacher decided it to be a 'treat' for the class since we all got A's on our quizzes. She turned on the television and there, live, were the tributes fighting like any other year. Everyone in my class began hooting and hollering. I sunk down in my chair and laid my head down on my arms. I was eventually able to will myself to sleep, however when the bell rang through the class signaling the end of the period, I was the first one up and out of the room. Everyone behind me groaned in irritation that the TV was turned off. I shook my head to myself at their ignorance and naivety. It sickened me.
David ended up catching up to me. I turned to him and smiled. He did not smile back though. He was too wrapped up in something else.
"Did you see that!? It was so awesome! The dude cut the other dudes head right off! It just went flying! And the girl that went mad! That was hilarious!" He rambled on and on and all that I could do was stare at him in disbelief. I couldn't believe it. Of all of the people…
"Have you ever thought…" I began quietly. He stopped and looked at me as we sat down in the soft grass that made up the school field. I picked a blade of grass and twirled it between my fingers. "…that maybe, none of this is right? That maybe those people are really, truly scared? They're human, just like us, after all. They all have families at home. How would we feel if we were pulled from our homes and forced to fight to the death? I would sure go crazy if I saw your head cut off." I stopped and continued to stare at the piece of grass. I had never voiced my thoughts on the Hunger Games to anyone else before. Most of the people I called my 'friends' loved the annual event, so I would keep my opinion to myself. This hit a new nerve in me though.
When I finally looked up to meet eyes with him, he was looking at me like I was some green monster with five eyes and two heads. His eyes narrowed at me, as though I was a traitor of some sort. He then stood up and walked away. I never spoke to him again after that day. I knew I was alone from then on.
Why was I born here? I would often think to myself, feeling completely alone in this massive city containing millions of people. Yet I couldn't relate with any of them. Why was I born in the Capitol? The people here are horrible. I belong in the Districts.
...
Something else that also set me apart from the society that I grew up in was my fashion sense. Or 'lack of'. I honestly did not see why people felt the need to implant cat whiskers into their face or bird beaks to replace their nose. The tutus that the girls loved to wear were definitely not something I would be seen in. When I would be out shopping with some 'friends' to just get out of my house, they would all be raving about the latest trend that had come out. The tutus were a huge thing to them. Or the skirts that always reminded me of a walking carnival tent. How anyone could walk in those skirts was always a mystery to me.
The fact that I was so uninterested with these styles also set me apart from finding any guy that took an interest in me. I often heard people talking about how I was so plain and boring. Some boys would even give me strange looks and sneer at me. I assumed that David had told them what I had confided in him with.
My mother one day tried to do my finger nails like a famous stylist who had 4 inch long nails with jewels on them. It was in at the time and the second that they were glued to my fingers I wanted nothing more than to rip them off. I couldn't even open doors! Much less write! I eventually got so tired of them that I cut them off back down to the normal length of my nails. My mother was aggravated from all of the time she spent on them, but I truthfully didn't care. It just felt nice to be able to function normally again without claws getting in my way all the time.
I still remember her face as she yelled at me when she found out. Her face was in a mask of white, dark pink eyelashes sticking out three inches from her face. Her lips were painted in an identical pink. She had bleach blonde hair flowing down to the middle of her back with pink highlights. She was wearing a large hat that had an assortment of feathers in many different colors attached to it. And the best yet? She had feathers glued to her arms that resembled wings. Birds were also in style at the time.
"Why did you cut them off!? Aag! Why can't you just be like all of the other girls? Look at you! You look like a filthy District rat in your drab and plain clothing!" Was what she screamed at me, her violet eyes glaring at me in annoyance. I glared back.
"Why must you go around looking like a bird? You look rather ridiculous if you ask me." I snapped at her.
"I did not ask you." She hissed angrily.
It was that day forward that I lost any little form of respect that I held for my mother.
...
Then there was the year that changed everything. The year that the people in the Districts began to show a hint of rebellion. The year that Katniss Everdeen volunteered for her younger sister. It amazed everyone the devotion and love that she showed for her sister. I would do the same for my younger brother if I was in that position. I really would. Although I have always been alone with my way of thinking, my brother was the only one who would ever understand, even if just a little bit. He was the one person that gave me any hope. Being nineteen and my brother only nine, we didn't have a really close relationship like Katniss and her sister Primrose probably did.
I started noticing though, small signs from him that I also showed. He did not cheer when someone killed someone else on TV. He would scrunch his eyebrows together in concentration, like he was trying to understand something much deeper behind the blood and gore that was on the television screen. He had always looked up to me as a role model and I love him dearly. I hoped that as he grew older he would also see the Capitol world that we had grown up in as it really was, just as I had.
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Once the boy from Katniss's district declared his love for her, mass pandemonium broke out. All the Capitol citizens wanted the star-crossed lovers to live. This was the first year that I actually watched the Hunger Games. I would shut myself out when something gruesome would happen, but for the most part I watched the show intrigued by this Katniss girl. The courage and will power that she showed was remarkable. I wondered if I would be the same way.
When the little girl Rue was dying and Katniss buried her in flowers, I could feel tears prick at my eyes. The screen quickly flashed to another scene in the games before anyone could really register what was going on, but I had seen enough. I excused myself to the restroom and sobbed. I remember setting my head back against the bathroom wall and felt a strange sense of deja vu. It felt similar to the time that I first came in here to vomit while my family enjoyed the show. But it's not just a show! I wanted to scream at them as I grabbed my hair in frustration, angry and sorrowful tears running down my face. Those are real people! Have a sense of humanity! You're monsters!
Sobs wracked my body for thirty minutes straight. The show was almost over for the night when I was finally able to compose myself enough to rejoin my family. I tried my best to cover up the fact that I had been crying, but my older sister looked at me curiously.
"Why's your face red? Have you been crying?" She asked me. I shrugged it off and forced a smile onto my face as I reached for some of the food set out on our coffee table.
"No. I just needed to empty out my system so that I can eat some more of this amazing food." I lied as I gave my mother an appraising look. She looked positively delighted at this, her ego puffing up like a bird in the winter.
"Oh yeah. Speaking of which." My sister said as she set her own food down and made her way to the bathroom. "Tell me what I miss!"
I watched her walk to the bathroom, shaking my head at her internally. It disgusted me. I had never once forced myself to wretch out the precious food that I was blessed to even have. I couldn't even imagine what the starving children in the districts were going through.
I didn't tell my sister what she missed, since I didn't know what happened either as I blocked the television out for the rest of the night.
...
I could tell that for the most part, something wasn't completely right with the whole star-crossed lovers façade going on between Katniss Everdeen and her district partner Peeta Mellark. But I could also tell that at the same time, she truly cared for him.
I felt bad as jealousy picked at me as I watched them both. I could tell that they felt strongly for one another. Whether it was love or not, they were still there for each other. They were doing everything that they could to keep the other safe. To make it out together. They had each others backs. Something that I had never had the priviledge of having.
It broke my heart, watching the Games that year, because I knew deep down, the Capitol would not just let them both win. That is why I did not gasp like everyone else around me in the living room when the announcer declared that the rule had been re-changed. I did gasp, however, when the two tributes pulled out the berries and were about to die together if they were not aloud to both win. When they were both announced as victors, it was the first time ever that I actually cheered along with my family.
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I was horrified when the president announced that previous victors would be put back into the arena for the Quarter Quell nearly a year later. It was so painfully obvious that he was outraged at the stunt that the tributes from the previous year had pulled with the berries and this was his revenge. I sat stunned in my seat all through the 75th Hunger Games.
Let them live. Let them live. Let them live. Let them live. Was all that ran through my head for Katniss and Peeta through those games.
My heart felt like it was going to burst in surprise and happiness when the arena blew up that year by Katniss's arrow. The government hadn't turned off the TVs across the country in time. Everyone saw what happened. There was no hiding it now.
The Districts had finally begun the rebellion.
...
The Capitol went into chaos. Everyone was petrified by what was happening.
Are they gonna blow us up?
No, the president will keep us safe.
They've taken over the TV network!
Don't worry! The Capitol gained back control!
THE REBELS! THEY'RE HERE!
EVERYONE HURRY TO THE CENTER OF THE CITY!
I was confused that morning as everyone was being ushered out of their homes to the center of the Capitol where the president resided in his mansion. I had been in a deep sleep but as I began to move more quickly and my mind started to wrap around what was happening, I couldn't help but let a smile spread across my face. It was finally happening. The Capitol would be overthrown. It's what I had been waiting for.
As I made my way into the square, I held tightly onto my little brothers hand. Everyone was screaming as guards began pulling children away from their parents and being barricaded into a fenced off area. The guards were saying that it was being used for the rebels to stay back away from the president. I screamed in anger though as they tore my brother away from me and shoved him into the barrack. I punched the guard in the face and was soon pulled back away from them and was smacked over the head for acting out. We need to protect the president. They won't hurt children. Is what they said.
"That doesn't matter though! You're using them as human shields!" I screamed in their faces.
I was still being held back when it happened. A hovercraft appeared above the children that were held in the barricade and boxes began dropping. Of course the first thing that they did was grab for the boxes. They knew what they were, they held gifts that were for them. Their little fingers began prying open the packages eagerly and right before it happened, I saw that my brother was not among the younger kids with the packages. He was staring at me. He also knew. He knew that something wasn't right with those boxes. And that's when it happened. The bombs in the boxes went off.
...
I had been too close. My legs had suffered the damage and I was paralyzed on the ground in my spot. My mind refused to register what was happening until someone began dragging me back. I shook my head and looked up. It was David. He was covered in burns from the bombs. Yet he was using the last of his strength to drag me farther away from the danger. Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over my burnt face, when I remembered what happened. I shook myself free from his arms and sat up, looking towards the barricade. Children and body parts were scattered everywhere. There were rebel paramedics helping usher the remaining children out. I looked away and squeezed my eyes shut. I knew that he was gone. I saw it happen. He was next to a child that was holding a box that went off.
"We need to get away from here." David croaked out. I was turning around to look at him when I saw her. Katniss Everdeen was running in my direction. She was screaming something. But what was it? I couldn't hear her. P…peh?...per?...pr…PRIM. I snapped my head back around to see where she was running to and I saw her. Prim. Her sister. Her sister that she volunteered for. She was helping the paramedics with the children. I knew what was going to happen next. I had just seen it happen to the only person in the world that I loved. My own little sibling. I closed my eyes as a sob broke through my lips. Tears streamed down my face as I heard the rest of the bombs go off.
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I opened my eyes slowly. The world was black. No…grey. A very dark grey. Smoke, I finally registered in my brain. My entire body hurt. What happened? As I lifted my head up, I cried out as excrutiating pain ripped through my body, almost causing me to black out again. My head was throbbing and as I looked down I couldn't believe what I saw. My legs that had already suffered damage were gone. I was bleeding freely and I knew that I didn't have much longer.
I looked to my side and saw that David was also gone. He was covered in ash and parts of him were missing. I looked away, not wanting David's destroyed appearance to be the last thing I saw before I died. And then I remembered. He was trying to save me. Had he finally realized what I tried to tell him so many years ago? Tears pricked my eyes as I leaned over and wiped the soot off of his face and kissed his lips softly. They were still warm. But I could tell he was beginning to turn cold. A single tear dripped onto his face as I turned away and saw the world around me. It was a surreal scene. Smoke clouding the air, dead civilians littering the streets.
I couldn't lift myself far, so as I looked ahead of myself and saw her there, alive, I was overwhelmed with happiness. I saw her eyelids flutter open. She was in Peeta's arms, who I assumed had pulled her farther away from the bombs and against the wall to protect her. He was still out cold but she was beginning to come slowly to life. I watched as she began to register everything around her. I could tell that she was still half disoriented.
I kept willing her to look my way, and when she finally did, I locked eyes with her and held our stare. I could tell that she recognized me as a Capitol citizen, but that's not what I wanted to die being known as. I wanted to die being known as a girl who did not believe in the terrible ways that her people lived. A girl that turned away when those horrible games were played on television. A Capitol girl that rooted for the District rebels the entire time. So as we held our stare and I could feel myself beginning to fade away from the loss of blood, I used the last of my strength to lift up my left arm, holding up three fingers, pressed them to my lips, and held them out to her. Shock crossed her face as she realized what I was doing. I hoped she then realized how much I wished for her to live, to change the world and that I had never been apart of the place I called home. As my last words, I mouthed Good Luck to her. I could see emotion flood through her eyes as she made what looked like a small nod to me. We both then slipped back into unconsciousness. Me, forever.
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A/N: Hello fellow fanfiction readers! I hope you enjoyed that little piece there. I decided to represent myself to this writing world when this idea recently struck me and I felt the need to write it down. It's pretty much supposed to be someone from the Capitol, one of the rare people, that most likely saw the Capitol for what it really was and how it effected them. I know it's chopped up into different points of the books, but that's because it's mainly supposed to be the snippets of someone else, not their entire life story. To see how they viewed what was going on. I am actually quite pleased with how it turned out.
Now I know that Katniss never exactly had an encounter with anyone like this as she slipped in and out of conciousness, but she must have been pretty out of it for a while so let's just say that it happened and she doesn't remember. But it's something that effected her in a positive way. Something that she knows in the back of her brain in her subconcious. Yeah? Yeah.
Reviews are greatly appreciated! I love to hear constructive criticism, just no flames please.